Touchstone

Disclaimer:
Hermione: \"We\'re still not typical.\"
Snape/Hermione/Gin: *continue to stare solemnly*


The rest of the afternoon, Hermione spent looking back over the notes Severus had sent to her earlier. Mrs. Weasley had decided to come for Ginny, and said she hadn’t seen Harry in a couple of days anyways. Ginny spent it looking over Hermione’s shoulder, and when she noticed Hermione kept making frustrated noises because she wasn’t getting anywhere, she had slumped over, depressingly, on the couch, and stared off into space. The guys had all gone outside to do some yard work for their mother.

When two o’clock finally rolled around, Hermione had been so immersed in her reading that she missed the sound of the knock at the door and Ginny answering it. It wasn’t until a shadow fell across the parchments that she even registered that Severus was even there.

“I thought I told you to take it easy,” he drawled. She smiled and stood up, holding on to her parchments. She wanted to hug him, but opted for standing closely to him.

“Hello,” she said quietly.

“Hello.” They stood staring at each other for a moment until Percy came in from the garden.

“Professor Snape?” he asked surprised. Severus turned and looked into the face of for former student and Hogwarts Head Boy. He stretched out his hand to Percy in greeting.

“Mr. Weasley. I trust you are doing well.” Percy shook his hand and nodded.

“Better sir, thank you.” He looked around, confused as to why his former Potions professor was in his home, when his mother came in clutching a large bag. He noticed his sister casually leaning against the doorway.

“Severus, welcome back,” Molly exclaimed. Snape turned and briefly smiled at the woman and shook her hand as well.

“Thank you for having me, Molly,” he said politely.

“Not at all. We’re happy to have you with us.” She looked around and noticed her son’s bewildered expression. “Professor Snape is coming with us to St. Mungo’s, Percy.” Percy nodded slowly and looked curiously at his old professor, then noticed Hermione staring at the older man.

“Ah. Well, have a safe trip then,” and he headed towards the kitchen.

Shortly afterwards, Snape, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley went out the front door and Apparated to St. Mungo’s. They arrived in a dark alley just to the side of the entrance to the old warehouse that was St. Mungo’s. Ginny stared at it in sadness, while Mrs. Weasley put her arm around her shoulders and led her through the entrance. Hermione paused, staring up at the decrepit old building. She had only been here a time or two. The last time she had was to sign off on the medical examiners report, verifying her parent’s mangled bodies. She sharply inhaled at the memory, and presently felt Snape’s firm hand on the small of her back. Strong, yet reassuring. She bit back the tears, and looked up at him gratefully; he nodded and gave her a slight smile, and gestured them on. As they walked, Snape’s hand stayed on her back.

They arrived at the front desk, Ginny signing in for them, and a short witch in lime-green medical robes led them through the double doors of the reception room and up a steep stairway, made a right, and then took them down a long corridor on the Fourth floor. Hermione saw through various doors’ windows some of the patients in this ward. Some of them were completely neurotic in behaviour; Hermione felt a sharp stab of pain. Harry was among these people. She shook her head and wiped at a tear. Snape gently rubbed a small circle on her back, and he noticed as they walked, she had leaned closer into him. Halfway down the corridor, the medi-witch turned right, and brought out a large ring of old-fashioned keys. She said a small incantation and whispered something to Ginny. Ginny nodded and stepped through the open door, followed by Molly. Snape looked down to Hermione, ready whenever she was, but not pushing. However, after a few moments, Hermione still had not moved.

***
\"Harry Potter! You come to finally meet your death...\" The high-pitched raspy voice rang out in the room.
\"Crucio!\" The curse was directed at Hermione and she screamed and convulsed under it while Voldemort laughed. Harry fought against the chains that held him to the wall.
\"Leave her alone you bastard!\"….

***

The memory faded, and Hermione twitched under Snape’s hand. He stopped his hand’s movement, and removed it from her back. He took a breath and stepped in front of Hermione’s line of vision to Harry’s hospital room door.

Severus looked down patiently at her, with an encouraging expression, “It’s just a visit.” She blinked as if just noticing he was there. He added quietly taking her hands and rubbing her knuckles with his thumb, “You can’t hide from him forever, Hermione. Come.” She let him lead her forward, and his hand resumed its place on the small of her back and they stepped in through the doorway.

Hermione’s whole body was tense, as she hesitantly looked around the room. The walls were covered with padding, as was the floor. There were no windows, and she speculated why this was. The colour of the room was a light, dull grey. Finally, she turned her gaze towards the centre of the room to the bed by the wall. There were some kind of magical monitoring devices spinning and glowing beside the bed, and a catheter tube poked out under the covers. Ginny was seated in a chair by the bedside, holding Harry’s hands; Mrs. Weasley standing behind her, dabbing at her eyes. Hermione let her eyes fall on Harry. She gasped and leaned back into Severus. He stilled, supporting her, his free hand grasping her elbow.

“This isn’t Harry…” she mouthed quietly, her voice filled with heart clenching sorrow. Snape swallowed as he looked at the young man who was barely recognizable, and shook his head sadly. He had avoided seeing the outcome of the Death-Eater’s “play things” as much as he could in his life. It made him sick to his stomach.

Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat. “His eyes….” She took a small step forward, shaking her head, unbelieving. His skin was pale, whereas it had been tan. His hair was longer, and uncut, Ginny had to brush it to the side to keep it out of his face. His cheeks weolloollowed, collarbones poking out through his fless hes he sat propped up on a pillow, his mouth slack-jawed. And his eyes….his once bright, lively eyes….were glazed, and un-seeing. A pale grey line marked one side of his face- where Voldemort had touched him.

Hermione’s eyes felt hot with tears, and her throat tightened as she took another step towards her best friend. She continued shaking her head, her sight blurred with salty tears.

“Harry.” His glazed eyes continued staring at nothing. “Harry,” she said more desperate. Ginny looked away, while Molly was trying to decide whether to go to Hermione, or stay holding her daughter. “Harry, no,” she cried incredibly. She had fully expected him to pull through; to show some semblance of hope. He always did. He survived. He had his whole life, so why should it be different now? The very real fact that he didn’t show that faint glimmer of hope rocked her entire being. Hermione’s knees felt weak, and Snape noticed her sway and quickly pulled up a chair for her to slump into. She did and leaned over Harry, grabbing a hold of his right hand. Her eyes ran over Harry’s pathetic face, and her tears dripped onto his cheeks. She bowed her head, laying her cheek on Harry’s cold hand and squeezed her eyes shut.

“If…I only… would… have thought-“she forced out but couldn’t speak anymore as a sob began pushing its way out of her very being. She kept his hand pressed to her face as she let the tears come and the painful sounds of heartache ripped through her throat. And she cried. It was at that moment, looking at Harry, her best friend, her first lover, partner-in-crime, Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived, that she felt the full force of all the pain, all the suffering, all the loss she had undergone throughout the past few months. Her parents, their rape and deaths. Her own rape and the death of her innocence. She cried for Ron, and Fred. And how she couldn’t save Ron, or prevent the tragedy that had befallen Harry. She cried for the lives of the many other friends and teachers that had been lost. She cried for the Weasley’s, and the sons that had been taken from them, and the pain they were forced to endure for the rest heirheir lives. She would never see Ron again. Never hear George and Fred speak the same words at the same time ever again. The pain in her heart was tangible, Hermione couldn’t take it. Why couldn’t she find a cure for Harry? What was she missing! “Why…” she moaned loudly.

Ginny grasped Hermione’s hand and silently sobbed on the other side of the bed watching her. Hermione’s chest continued to shake with fury, and right as Molly couldn’t stand to leave Hermione alone another second, Severus moved in and bent down on his knees to hold her as she cried. Had it not been such a heart-rending moment, Molly might have been surprised. Instead she gripped her only daughter’s shoulders tighter and closed her eyes. Her heart was breaking for everyone in the room.

Snape held Hermione for an interminable amount of time until she wore herself out. And even still she cried, though there were no more tears. There was only empty, hollow, pain. Keeping hold of Harry’s hand, she leaned into the warm embrace Sev off offered to her. She barely even registered what it had taken for him to do this for her. She sat, rubbing Harry’s hand, praying to every deity, to God, to help her. To help Harry.

Snape smoothed the hair that had clung to her tear-streaked face, out of the way, and pressed her cheek into his chest. She gratefully accepted the comfort; even if she was half-numb from shock. He had never seen anyone suffer so much heartache in his entire life. His whole being shook to the core when her muffled sobs echoed in his chest. Her hurt for her. He didn’t want her to suffer. He didn’t know what it was inside of him that automatically kicked in, and made him go to her, and to have this incredible urge to not want her to hurt anymore. So he held her, until she stopped all movement in his arms. He didn’t even notice Molly Weasley come up behind him and bend down to his ear, and he jumped at her soft words.

“Take her home, Severus.” He nodded, not needing another word to gather her up in his arms and take her away. He looked despondently back to Ginny who nodded and went to stare back at Harry. He turned and quickly strode out the door with Hermione still in his arms. When he reached the end of the corridor, he stepped onto the revolving staircase to get back to the main floor, and out the front doors. She was still quietly shaking and had wrapped her arms around his neck, her face buried just under his chin.

Once outside, he whispered into her hair, “Please hold on…” and he closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against hers, and slipped a hand, carefully, into the folds of his robes to latch onto a portkey each of the staff had for emergencies, and hel whi while they were taken back to their home.

~*~*~*

When they had reached the gates of Hogwarts he immediately went through them, not bothering to see if Hermione could walk. Snape was worried about her. Her movements in his arms were becoming less and less, and her breathing seemed shallow. As soon as they got in the castle he was going to take her to Madam Pomfrey.

The sun was just starting to settle in the West, and the castle threw large shadows over the grounds. When they approached the front steps, he shifted her in his arms a bit, and then continued on up to the great oak front doors. No one was in the entry hall. He carried her up the main staircase and down the hall to the Hospital Wing, burstinrougrough the doors. He just hoped Poppy would have something to ease her mind, lest she start to go back into the coma she had used before.

“Poppy!” he called as he lay her gently down on the nearest bed. Hermione clutched at his robes, not wanting him to leave her. He continued softly, “I’m just going to get Poppy. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t leave me…” she said weakly, still holding onto the front of his robes. He was leaning over her at an awkward angle while he looked around the room, then back to her.

“Very well.” He placed a hand on one side of her body, his other stroking her cheek; she snuggled up to his arm, another tear slipping out of her lashes. “Poppy?!” he called again. ‘Why isn’t she answering?’ he thought angrily. He tried to think about where she could be….and then realized the women had said something that morning about going into Hogsmeade.

“Damnit,” he whispered fiercely. Hermione winced and continued to shake. Snape reached down to feel her pulse; weak but steady. “You will not go back there, Hermione,” he stated rather harshly.

He went to the fireplace at one end of the room, grabbed a pinch of floo powder from the nondescript box on the mantle, and threw it in. He quietly announced his room, then went back to scoop Hermione back up into his arms. She whimpered and placed her face back into theok ook of his neck. He tucked them into the fireplace and was immediately taken into his private quarters.

Through the haze, Hermione was vaguely aware as to where she was. She felt slick, cool sheets under her suddenly instead of Severus’ warm, strong arms. She shivered and huddled into her self. She just wanted to give in again.

“Too much…” she whispered. Harry’s ruined appearance floated back to her. She twisted her face side to side, “no no nonononono…” A hand stopped her head from thrashing about and she looked up.

“I want you to drink this. But you have to promise me, you will not use this to hurt yourself.” Snape had a small vial of a weaker version of the Fulcio potion to give her some strength. Hermione looked at him blankly, but drank the potion anyways. He set the empty vial aside, and watched as some colour came back into her face. He sat on the edge of his bed, where he had laid Hermione and took hold of her hands.

“How do you feel?” he asked. She looked miserable; he wanted to take that away from her. His thumbs automatically started soothing her hands in large circles. She didn’t respond for a bit.

“I wish I didn’t. I don’t.” she said quietly. Then she sp anp and scooted away from him to the other side of the bed. “I can’t take this!! Did you see him? Harry!” She wiped angrily at her tears, starting to feel the warmth from the potion beginning kick in. Snape sat where he was, watching her quietly.

“I did.” He answered, and she shook her head. “Hermione…I don’t know what you’re thinking…but whatever you do think…you have to realize it’s not you fault. Harry knew what he was doing. There was nothing you could do for him.”

She hung her head and whispered softly, “Why does everyone I love die?” Tears fell from her lashes again and she didn’t stop them. Her chest was tightening, and she inhaled. “Why did I lose everything? Why!” She got up with a pained scream and stalked to the fireplace. He start het her sadly.

“I hate this! All of this! I want out!” This time Severus got up, frightened by her words, and went to her.

“So you would rather just quit? Give up? Not very Gryffindor of you is it?” He sneered.

“Who cares?! Why do you care? Just one more defeat for me. Not living up to my expectations. Well damn! Maybe I can banish any shred of hope anyone has left in me, and be properly miserable!”

A thousand different scathing words to say, ticked on his tongue, but he wouldn’t say any of them. She was letting go again. Something, deep in his chest registered that fact; and it actually scared him. It stirred up his insides; because he knew this time they wouldn’t be able to get her back. And he felt a profound loss, deep inside and had to act. Every fibre of him wanted to reach out to her, make her feel something other than pain. Hell, he wanted to feel that. He said the only words that seemed fitting now.

“I care,” and he was shocked when he realized those words were true. He cared enough to not want her to leave. Whether it be him, or this world. A light went off in his mind. He wanted her here. With him preferably. He really wanted her there! He wanted to give in and feel, really feel. Feel love, feel joy! And his heart screamed out that she could be the one to give him that. And here she was, wanting to throw everything away. That couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let it happen. He quickly closed the space between them, and grabbed her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. Her mouth was slightly open, staring back at him.

“I care, Hermione,” he repeated. She closed her lips and glared at him.

“Really! One would never tell, Severus! I certainly couldn’t, what with how you ignore me! See a damaged figure, eh?” She yelled at him. She closed her eyes to escape those piercing orbs of his and said softly. “I do.”

His hands slid down, to firmly grasp her upper arms and he moved his face closely to in front of hers, “You are not damaged. Look at me.” Reluctantly she did. “You can have so much…you can have more.” She shook her head, and turned to move; afraid the feel of him would keep her there. She just wanted out. However, his grip tightened on her arms again.

“Don’t leave,” he almost pleaded. Hermione stopped; something in his voice touched her.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, “Why Severus? Why? You’ll just leave me too. Everyone does.” Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes; his heart wrenched again. “They always do,” she sniffed and opened her eyes again shaking her head. Her curls had escaped their confinement and softly fell about her face. “Then what will I have? There is nothing….you would be taken from me too. There is nothing in me anymore.” She wriggled an arm free and turned to leave him, but he kept her other hand and pulled back.

‘Now or never, Severus…’

“No,” he said darkly, and then jerked her back to him. She gasped and was flung into his chest, her back moulding into his stomach. The hand that held hers pressed into her torso, holding her there, while his other hand came up and rested on her belly. Hermione inhaled when he pressed into her soft flesh. He leaned his face next to ear, tilting her head. Hermione’s heart rate quickened, what was going on….

“You don’t understand.” He breathed her scent in deeply and nuzzled her hair. Her own breath caught. “You can’t leave. You don’t get it, Hermione.” His v rum rumbled in her chest, and his right hand that held hers captive began moving up to her wrist, then back down to capture her fingers in his, blazing fire on her skin.

Hermione’s mouth worked silently, her brain having thoroughly been confused. He smiled against her bewilderment, and nuzzled just behind her ear. “You belong here, Hermione. With me,” his tongue darted out to lick the outer curve of her ear. She gasped; her legs starting to melt right there, but she was still frozen in place. He chuckled, darkly. “You see?” His mouth barely skimmed down the side of her throat until it got to the hollow. His lips brushed her neck as he spoke, “You know it. That’s why you’re still here. Isn’t it, my dear?” and he softly kissed her throat. Hermione swore his lips were made of flame.

She made a soft, inarticulate sound, which made him chuckle again. “What was that?” he said against her neck, still kissing.

Hermionied ied to clear her throat, and began again. “I don’t know…” but Severus continued as though he hadn’t heard her. The hand that was pressed into her belly, made its way down to hip,hip, pressing her bottom into his groin, Hermione inhaled again.

He went on. “But, what I don’t understand….is why you keep trying to run away. It’s most confusing, Hermione. You pursue me,” at this she tried to make a sound of protest, “then you hide…and then you try to get to me again…and now you’re trying to run away.” He kissed just behind her ear, and she whimpered. He smiled. She was doing exactly what he wanted her to. “You’re such a confusing girl. Perhaps, I can figure you out, hm?” The hand at her hip moved lower still, running over the top of her thigh, and she twitched under it. He brought it slowly, roughly, back up to her stomach and pressed her back into him. Hermione could definitely feel his passion pressing into her from behind; it made her head spin. This wasn’t at all what she had imagined would happen. She had fully intended to end her life, that night; and then he had to go and do something like this. His tongue again darted out to taste her flesh once more.

She blinked, “No…” and Hermione tried, weakly, to push away. Severrowlrowled and pressed her roughly back into him. His hands capturing hers, holding her and he roughly whispered into her ear.

“Don’t you feel it!” he said, his breath hot on her skin.

She was whimpering again, “..what…”

“Life...life, Hermione!” he bit down on the soft lobe of her ear and she cried out. He soothed the hurt with his tongue, and continued softly. “Don’t you feel alive? Here? Now?” His hands had brought hers up above her head, and he grazed the gentle curve of her breasts.
She was feeling something all right… “…yes…” she said faintly. He ran his hands back down her arms and trailed them down over her breasts, feeling the hardened nipples under his palms. She squirmed beneath them.

“Again,” he said harshly. Hermione arched her back into those glorious hands.

“Yes…” she said louder, quickly losing her self-control.

His palms then closed around her breasts, softly kneading them. Her backside began rubbing rhythmically into his throbbing groin…he didn’t know how much more he could take.

“Again,” he panted, giving her another squeeze.

“YES!” she cried out and turned to him. He bent his head and roughly seized her lips with his. Her hands came up quickly to wrap around his neck and she immediately opened up to him, wanting his tongue in her mouth. He hungrily obliged and began exploring her lips, her tongue and teeth. She tasted unbelievable and he deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around her back tightly. Hermione moaned against him and pressed harder into him, snaking one leg around his, furthering their closeness. He growled deeply and continued the kiss. They were furiously battling, each trying to gain the upper hand, which excited He He had never felt this kind of passion for another woman in his entire life. She was burning him up from the inside out.

His hands slid up her back, roaming everywhere. He couldn’t feel her fast enough. And her little pink dress, while very appealing, was soon becoming a burden to him. Hermione’s own hands had slithered their way up into his soft hair and was grasping. He loved the feel of her hands in his hair all of a sudden. Their mouths continued their desperate explorations, when her hands came down to the front of his robes, fumbling with the buttons. In her mind she couldn’t help but complain, ‘Of course today he would wear his black robes…ugh!’ She groaned in frustration, and he smiled against her lips. He softly whispered something Hermione had never heard before…and suddenly his bare skin was connecting with her hands. She gasped, and removed her lips from his in shock and looked down. His shirt and robes were completely gone. Her eyes widened curiously and she blinked. He smiled coyly and began pushing against her.

The rough feel of the material of the dress against his skin drove him near insane, and he softly moaned. His hands slid down her sides, and he bent down a bit to the hem of her dress, and began slowly sliding it upwards. He felt her leave his mouth to begin sucking the side of his throat and he paused, arching his neck to give her better area. She was exquisite! Soon, his hands continued t way way up over her thighs, gliding over her hips, stopping to toy with the band her very thin string bikini. Then, those same elegant hands slid around to grasp her buttocks, making her sigh with pleasure and arch into him. That hardened him even more, knowing he could make her moan.

Hermione’s hands raked down the front of his chest, outlining his lean muscle, and scraping lightly across his nipples. She was desperate to be with him. He hissed and seized the side of her throat with his lips this time and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist. She reached down to pull the bunched up fabric out of his hands, and slid it quickly over her head. Their flesh met, and sent goose bumps over both their skin. He backed her up to the bed, and when the back of her knees hit the edge, she gripped his shoulders and flung them both onto the mattress in a heavy tumble. The satin really felt cool against her skin now.

He was lying on top of her, his hands roaming over all the planes and curves of her body. She was becoming frantic and she clutched his hair again. Her desire was building, needneeded this so bad. He bent his head down and brought one fabric covered nipple into his mouth, teasing it through her bra. She arched up into his mouth and grabbed at his hair tighter. With one hand he gave attention to her other nipple, hardening the already tight little peaks even more. His free hand came up to gently slip off the straps of the bra, and he reached around and deftly undid the fasten. He pulled his arm back around her front to rid her of the garment entirely, after reluctantly removing his mouth, and stared at her. They were the prettiest, most perfectly rounded pair of breasts he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. Hermione felt a blush creep up under his gaze and she squirmed. He gently grabbed the side of her face and leaned in closely.

“You’re perfect.” Her throat tightened at the sincerity of his words, and he kissed her deeply again. She leaned into him, loving the finally bare touch of their skin against each other. Her hand trailed down to rub at the bulging fabric of his pants and he groaned into her mouth. She stroked as best she could through them, and he whispered another incantation, thus removing the confining cloth. She smiled into his mouth, and took him in her hand. He inhaled, and leaned his face into her neck, sighing. She ran her hand along his shaft, getting the feel of him, listening to what made him gasp and whimper. She wrapped her fingers around him, and gently pulled up, circling her thumb around his tip. He instinctively thrust into her hand, and she smiled, glad to have some kind of control, let alone such a wonderful kind.

He raised his mouth back to hers, fiercely, and ran his own hands down her body, pausing to toy with her rosy nipples again, and circle around her naval. Her stomach twitched under his feather-light ministrations. Then, when he reached the line of her string-bikini, he traced it, circling his finger lower and lower. She writhed under his touch and tried to lift herself closer to his hands.

“Patience my dear…patience,” he whispered lowered down and kissed her belly. Her mind cleared, blessedly, and she focused only on his lips and hands. She needed this right now, she thought. Her legs parted, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted, so he slipped his thumbs under the fabric, and very quickly stripped them away. She kicked them off her ankles and onto the floor. Hermione was very aware of how open and vulnerable she was and when he didn’t immediately touch her, she worried, and raised up on her elbows to look at him. He was staring at her, with the kindest, most gentle face she had ever seen on him before. The fact that she was letting him do this for her, to her, after such a long time out of practice, was amazing. It had been by his choice; he could have had meaningless sex whenever he wanted, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to feel the emotions as well as the physical bliss. He had wanted to help her, as well as himself, but he was feeling so much. So he stared down at her, drinking in the site of her charity, before she had risen up to look at him.

“You are perfect.” He said confidently, then lowered himself to her lips and began kissing her once more, this time slowly, and deeply. His hands snaked down to her very moist lips, and parted them, dipping two fingers in to massage the slick flesh. She moaned against his mouth, and opened wider for him. His tested different techniques as well, seeing what she liked…and what she loved, until he found the perfect combination. His tongue started stroking hers, matching the movements of his fingers, while Hermione clutched his back, and most likely breaking the skin, very quickly starting to feel the beginnings of release. She was spiralling higher and higher, and he picked up the pace. She felt an aching emptiness inside her though, and broke the kiss.

“Now…please Severus…” He bent his lips to suck on her neck.

“Now? Now what?” he asked innocently. Her nails bit into his shoulder blades, once more, leaving marks.

“Now, now!” she cried desperately.

“Tell me, Hermione,” he said thickly against his own desire. He wanted to hear her say it, wanted Hermione to hear herself say it. Their orgasms were gaining fever pitch, and neither of them had ever felt anything like it, and she opened her eyes to look at him.

“I want you…oh God, Severus…I need you!” she cried unable to hold back. He could have come right there, hearing those words, but instead he reached down to guide himself into her opening, and plunged deep within her. She cried out, and bit his neck in ecstasy. He pulled out and then buried himself to the hilt, repeatedly; Hermione’s legs wrapped around his waist, giving him more access. They continued moving with each other, the sweet friction building up stronger and stronger, until Hermione thought she would go insane. Nothing else mattered then. Not her past, not any kind of future, just what she was feeling, and with who she was feeling it with. Finally, he reached down to rub her clit, and she exploded. Her muscles tightened around him rhythmicalbrinbringing him with her. They held each other tightly, crying out each other’s names, riding out the waves together, until he had spilled himself into her completely and collapsed on top of her, exhausted.

Neither of them had ever felt something that deliciously hard before; it had been absolutely mind-blowing. He rolled over a bit, so she wouldn’t have to bear his full weight. She lay panting beside him, and he gathered her in his arms, basking in the afterglow. His hands rubbed lazy patterns on her arms, and she nuzzled her face just under his chin; they both noticed how perfectly she fit against him, but neither said anything. She curled up into him, her hand lightly resting on his chest, and gave in to sleep, before she could think about anything else. He reached down and pulled a black satin sheet, up over them, and listened to the steady sound of her breathing. If he could have died, he would have actually have died a happy man at that moment. Her brown curls spilled out on the pillow behind her, and his lids drooped eventually after watching her sleep. He snuggled into her one last time, before himself giving in to his exhaustion, and slept with her in his arms that night.
~*~*~*~*

A/N: See disclaimer. Take it to heart.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed me! I know it’s been awhile...okay, a few months. I suck. (She does not) What can I say? (Chapter 12 is really good) = / Accept my apology (Or Lenea will eat you), and again…listen to the disclaimer.

Thanks to Lenea for the beta! (And encouragement! :P)