requirement | dramione

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Draco kissed Hermione's bare shoulder, holding his lips there for as long as he could before she began to dress. This was a common misconception about Draco Malfoy: he did like to be affectionate, if the moment was right, if the girl was right, which was very infrequent. He was not a being of affection, not in the slightest, but that didn't mean he was always opposed to it. 

"Your jumper." Draco's voice was still low and luxurious, even as they redressed. He was standing now, holding her gray and white sweater out to her. Hermione blinked, returning from an apparent daze.

"Oh, right. Thank you." She responded, quiet and still lost in thought. She took the jumper, letting in rest in her lap before putting in on. Her eyes were glued to him now. His shirt was undone, open so that his chest and abdomen were exposed. Hermione admired the paleness of his skin and the soft crease of muscles against his stomach. She couldn't help herself from analyzing his thinness , despite the obvious muscle, and the darkness under his eyes.

She was sure she looked like a lost little girl, sitting there on the knitted gray blanket, half undressed and staring. That would not do. She rose to her feet, draping her sweater over her forearm as she did. She stepped towards the blonde, taking the sides of his shirt in each hand. She let her eyes rest on his chest as she fastened each button, starting from the bottom.

Her fingers worked slowly, buttoning each as he inhaled. She reached the button just below his collar, stealing a glance at his face before returning her gaze to her fingertips. His eyes had not left her, inspecting, as if he was searching or waiting for something. 

"What is it?" She asked. She finished his final button, releasing the edges of his black dress shirt.

His eyes narrowed at the tone of her voice. He put his hand, palm up, between them. Hermione stared at his fingers, the small callouses against his palm. Her eyes flickered between his open hand and face, finally resting on his face and raising one eyebrow, unsure of what that hand meant.

"Your jumper." He said again, as if he had expected her to understand long ago.

"Oh...." She mumbled, still confused but offering him her sweater. He took the worn material of her favorite gray top, then pressed his hand into her shoulder to turn her in the other direction. She now faced the many piles of chairs, old bed frames, textbooks, and hundreds of things she had yet to learn the names of. Draco's cool fingers slid down her right arm, guiding her right hand into the sleeve of her jumper. His breath tickled the hair above her ear as he leaned down, pulling the sweater up to her shoulder. 

He spun her round once more so that he could zip her jumper up to her chest. Then, rather reluctantly, his hands drifted away from her and fell at his sides. His eyebrows were furrowed in confused anger for a moment. Then his face changed. His silver eyes softened as he pulled the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth, ever so slightly. Hermione recognized this look from the beginning of the school year and, she was sure, it was apologetic. 

"Draco..." She broke the silence. She need to get the worry out of her head. "I don't suppose... I mean..." She fumbled to find the proper way to ask. Draco seemed to understand the question at play and, folding his arms over his chest, found the words before she could. 

"I won't tell anyone. I couldn't."

She bit down on her cheek. He'd known exactly what she was going to ask of him. Only, how exactly did he mean that? She tried not to feel hurt, but knew that there was blush going to her face. 

"Good." She nodded, trying to cover her embarrassment. She let her eyes fall back on him taking in the sight of his arms folded against his chest, his perfect blonde hair ruffled from her hands, and his black shirt untucked from his dress pants. It was a rarity, to see Draco this way: imperfect and yet, handsomely disheveled and winsome.