fic: it is you i have loved
it is you i have loved.
harry potter. harry/hermione. when she smiles at him he is fifteen again. the way that they work; the way that they don't. pg. post hallows. one-shot.
The Leaky Cauldron is the same and when she smiles at him he is fifteen again. A hug he has missed for so long and they sit in a corner talking about the good old days. She hasn’t changed at all; he has changed too much.
She remembers him. Messy hair, green eyes, ridiculous specs. He has longer hair now. It falls into those eyes of his. The purple beneath them is new; the glasses however are the same. He smokes now. In. Out. And she can’t look away.
Two in the morning and red wine. Her feet in his lap and the touch of his hand tracing circles on her leg. Silence after a fit of giggles. Silence that does not overwhelm. It’s easy with him somehow; empty words need not fill the gaps. A kiss goodnight and she catches her breath.
He doesn’t sleep and she can’t. Only a matter of time before there is a knock on her door. She’s had men before. Never like this. Gentle. Fingers trace her lips. Drowning in the green of his eyes, the wait is agony. Fuck me.
Dawn brings him peace. He sleeps while she keeps watch, just like before. Coffee to clear her head and still the guilt doesn’t come. She doesn’t like surprises. Her head on his chest, she is reassured by the sound of his heart’s steady beat.
The day is magical in its simplicity. The park and swings; they kiss every time she swings forth. A brush of his lips on hers and a moment’s wait. She smells of fresh parchment and lilies. He can’t get enough. No spells, just her.
An inn. Two old friends get reacquainted. What is to be their fate? She has obligations, she has expectations. He is broken; he has been for sometime now. She can fix him but who will fix her? A night together shouldn’t mean so much. He wants to hold her hand forever, but he can’t expect her to stay.
She loves him, he knows that but she loves Ron too. They both do. He doesn’t ask her to choose, it isn’t fair. She reads to him at night and he kisses her neck and holds her tight. He doesn’t reproach himself for not knowing sooner. He is glad she doesn’t either.
A house and kids; that is not her dream. She has a family, all of them and she doesn’t need a new one, not yet. He is the only one who understands. She wants to, want to leave. He has been away for so long; she doesn’t want to miss him again. His touch on her cheek, his hand in hers. His scent on her skin.
Perfect happiness. There is such a thing. He knows it in her arms. One more day and he will let her go. One more day and she’ll have the will to leave.
One day.
harry potter. harry/hermione. when she smiles at him he is fifteen again. the way that they work; the way that they don't. pg. post hallows. one-shot.
The Leaky Cauldron is the same and when she smiles at him he is fifteen again. A hug he has missed for so long and they sit in a corner talking about the good old days. She hasn’t changed at all; he has changed too much.
She remembers him. Messy hair, green eyes, ridiculous specs. He has longer hair now. It falls into those eyes of his. The purple beneath them is new; the glasses however are the same. He smokes now. In. Out. And she can’t look away.
Two in the morning and red wine. Her feet in his lap and the touch of his hand tracing circles on her leg. Silence after a fit of giggles. Silence that does not overwhelm. It’s easy with him somehow; empty words need not fill the gaps. A kiss goodnight and she catches her breath.
He doesn’t sleep and she can’t. Only a matter of time before there is a knock on her door. She’s had men before. Never like this. Gentle. Fingers trace her lips. Drowning in the green of his eyes, the wait is agony. Fuck me.
Dawn brings him peace. He sleeps while she keeps watch, just like before. Coffee to clear her head and still the guilt doesn’t come. She doesn’t like surprises. Her head on his chest, she is reassured by the sound of his heart’s steady beat.
The day is magical in its simplicity. The park and swings; they kiss every time she swings forth. A brush of his lips on hers and a moment’s wait. She smells of fresh parchment and lilies. He can’t get enough. No spells, just her.
An inn. Two old friends get reacquainted. What is to be their fate? She has obligations, she has expectations. He is broken; he has been for sometime now. She can fix him but who will fix her? A night together shouldn’t mean so much. He wants to hold her hand forever, but he can’t expect her to stay.
She loves him, he knows that but she loves Ron too. They both do. He doesn’t ask her to choose, it isn’t fair. She reads to him at night and he kisses her neck and holds her tight. He doesn’t reproach himself for not knowing sooner. He is glad she doesn’t either.
A house and kids; that is not her dream. She has a family, all of them and she doesn’t need a new one, not yet. He is the only one who understands. She wants to, want to leave. He has been away for so long; she doesn’t want to miss him again. His touch on her cheek, his hand in hers. His scent on her skin.
Perfect happiness. There is such a thing. He knows it in her arms. One more day and he will let her go. One more day and she’ll have the will to leave.
One day.