(no subject)
Title: Cosy and Cold
Author: spadul
Rating: G
Word Count: 328
Notes/Warning: Written for Prompt #4; Gloves.
The warm air of the library soothes the iciness atop her cheeks as she enters through the main doors. Inhaling deep the scent of old bindings and spilled ink, she smiles in acknowledgement to the librarian and rubs her hands together to create static friction. She steers herself in the direction of her favorite reading spot; the small hovel of space crammed with a glossy wooden table and a deep-seated armchair.
Turning around a corner she’s jostled by the shoulder of another, her tattered copy of Hogwarts: A History slipping out of her grasp. It lands by her feet, still covered in miniscule bits of snow, and by the feet of another. She sees the shoes and she instantly knows who it is, for she’s spent many a stray lesson watching those very shoes dance to the rhythm and tango of a boredom-inspired dance.
She’s busy looking at his feet when a bowed head along with an outstretched arm are added to the equation. She follows his hands as they delicately cradle her book, extending it out to her.
“Granger,” he drawls dully.
She accepts the book with a curt, “Malfoy,” and disappears past him and settles into the still-warm armchair and stares at his back as it retreats around the corner.
She’s lost in her own dreamy reprise with her books unopened in her lap when his voice breaks through her trance.
“Granger, have you spotted my gloves?”
She nonchalantly gazes about her surroundings, but her face betrays her. “Can’t say that I have, Malfoy,” she lies as color spills across the apple of her cheeks.
He raises an eyebrow at her. “You’re positive?”
“Quite sure, really,” she assures. He sighs noisily and narrows his eyes.
He’s out of sight when she pulls the two leather gloves out from underneath her tomes. She holds the impossibly soft garments to her nose and relishes in the sweet aroma of spice and toffee that solely belongs to Draco Malfoy.
Author: spadul
Rating: G
Word Count: 328
Notes/Warning: Written for Prompt #4; Gloves.
The warm air of the library soothes the iciness atop her cheeks as she enters through the main doors. Inhaling deep the scent of old bindings and spilled ink, she smiles in acknowledgement to the librarian and rubs her hands together to create static friction. She steers herself in the direction of her favorite reading spot; the small hovel of space crammed with a glossy wooden table and a deep-seated armchair.
Turning around a corner she’s jostled by the shoulder of another, her tattered copy of Hogwarts: A History slipping out of her grasp. It lands by her feet, still covered in miniscule bits of snow, and by the feet of another. She sees the shoes and she instantly knows who it is, for she’s spent many a stray lesson watching those very shoes dance to the rhythm and tango of a boredom-inspired dance.
She’s busy looking at his feet when a bowed head along with an outstretched arm are added to the equation. She follows his hands as they delicately cradle her book, extending it out to her.
“Granger,” he drawls dully.
She accepts the book with a curt, “Malfoy,” and disappears past him and settles into the still-warm armchair and stares at his back as it retreats around the corner.
She’s lost in her own dreamy reprise with her books unopened in her lap when his voice breaks through her trance.
“Granger, have you spotted my gloves?”
She nonchalantly gazes about her surroundings, but her face betrays her. “Can’t say that I have, Malfoy,” she lies as color spills across the apple of her cheeks.
He raises an eyebrow at her. “You’re positive?”
“Quite sure, really,” she assures. He sighs noisily and narrows his eyes.
He’s out of sight when she pulls the two leather gloves out from underneath her tomes. She holds the impossibly soft garments to her nose and relishes in the sweet aroma of spice and toffee that solely belongs to Draco Malfoy.