Two Ghosts (H.S)
"Sweetheart, let me tell you something no one ever believes, but I swear to you is the absolute truth. You fall in love more than once. It'll happen again. And it will be just as amazing and extraordinary as the first time."
He pushed her up against the wall, his body pressed against hers as her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his own hands traveling down to the button of her jeans.
She tugged at his lower lip with her teeth and a raspy moan slipped out of his throat as he leaned forward to kiss her again; her lips moving perfectly with his as her hands explored his naked chest.
But it felt wrong.
She tasted like mint and she smelled like cinnamon, and at any other moment in his life he would have been in love with that smell and turned on with that taste, but right now as he pushed his hand down her pants, and he closed his eyes as she nipped at his neck, his body was desperate for the scent of violets and foxgloves and the taste of honey from another pair of lips that he would probably never have again.
And Harry guessed that the best way to get over another broken heart was finding another lonely soul to spend the night.