Draco leaned forward and laced his fingers into her hair along her temple. His expression was still curious. She shivered and her breath caught as she felt him slide his fingers through it down to her waist.
“It's softer than I expected,” he said. His eyes were fascinated. She'd never had anyone take interest in her hair. The entire interaction has moved beyond her comfort zone, and she had no idea what she was supposed to say or do.
She stared at him and realised his eyes had become somewhat dazed looking. He was really, really drunk.
Suddenly his face was even closer. Just centimeters from hers. His hand slid up her neck and tangled into the curls at the base of her skull. It was so—
Vulnerable.
Intimate.
Sensual.
He wasn't looking at her hair anymore. His eyes were on her face. On her mouth.
They were so close.
“If you don't want me to kiss you, you should say so now,” he said.
She felt the breath from every word against her lips.
Everything felt surreal. Like a dream. Blurred and full of sensations.
She could feel the weight of her life bearing down on her; crushing her until she could barely breathe from it. Until she could barely breathe from the loneliness.
But she could also feel Draco's hand in her hair. He was gentler than she had thought he could be. Warm to touch. Beautiful. So close she could feel him breathing.
He was looking at her like he saw her.
He was asking.
If she hadn't spoken to Harry that evening. If she hadn't been so drunk. If she weren't so lonely. If the evening's revelation hadn't been that Draco Malfoy was actually nice when drunk, she might have done something different.
But she didn't.
She kissed him.
A real kiss.
The taste of firewhisky was on each of their lips.
As soon as her mouth touched his, Draco took control. As though she'd sprung something loose in him. His hand in her hair tightened, and he drew her toward him, pulling her onto his lap.
She rested her hands on top of his shoulders as he deepened the kiss. He used his hold on her hair to arch her neck back and slid his other hand down her throat. He slipped his fingers over her skin; along her clavicles and shoulders and the dip of her throat as though he were taking a measurement of her.
She ran a hand along his jaw and into his hair. As her palm grazed along his cheekbone he pressed his face against it for a moment.
He was so starved for touch.
He traced along her body, and she leaned into the contact like a cat. She hadn't realised how much she longed to be touched.
That she was starved for it too.
He slid a hand along the hem of her shirt, grazing the skin of her abdomen before slowly slipping under her clothing and splaying his hand across the small of her back. Holding her against his stomach so that she had to arch her back to keep kissing him.
The kisses were unhurried. Curious. He used his hold on her hair to control the pace as he kissed her slowly. Lightly brushing his mouth against hers so that she shivered before he nipped her softly. Then the tip of his tongue flicked out against her lower lip. She gasped, and when her mouth opened, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue against hers.
He tasted like ice and firewhisky and sin.
She ran her hands over his shoulders, feeling him. Hard and pale as marble, but warm. He was so warm to touch. She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged at it softly, arching against him as he caressed her waist and she shivered. A tension was beginning to pool inside of her.
She had never—
A voice in the back of her mind cruelly reminded her she wasn't supposed to mean any of it. She jerked slightly as if the thought had physically struck her.
Draco used his hold on her hair to draw her head back and expose her neck. Leaving her lips and kissing along her jaw and the column of her throat until she whimpered and clung to him.
She meant it.
She didn't know how to not mean it.
She cradled his face in her hands, and drew his mouth back to hers. Crushing her lips against his fiercely, she wrapped her arms around him. Trying to feel all of him.
Their chests were pressed against each other, and she wasn't sure if she was feeling her heartbeat or his. Perhaps they had the same tempo.
She was so tired of being alone.
She was so tired being reduced to her functions. Healer. Dark Arts Researcher. Potion Mistress. Liaison. Tool. Whore.
As though she'd become any of those things because she had wanted to.
She wanted to cry but couldn't. She just kissed Draco more fiercely, and he met it with equal fire.
His hands roamed further up her shirt, palming her breasts through her bra. He ran his thumb lightly over the tops of them so that she shuddered and arched.
She could hear him breathing as he drew away from her lips and started peppering kisses along her jaw, scraping his teeth lightly against the curving bone.