Draco stood from where he had been sitting on the plush sofa and walked carefully to Ginny. For weeks, he had sat in the Room of Requirement each night, hoping that she would come. He had wished - no, needed - a place where only Ginny could find him, and he had hoped that, at some point, she would stumble upon that enigmatic door that was located in the seventh-floor corridor. He had considered giving up because he realized, finally, that for her to find that door, she would have to need him, too.
When he heard the door swing open, and heard the sound of footsteps, he knew it had to be her. He didn't even need to look up before he spoke to her, and the sound of her pained voice chilled him to the bone. It wasn't so much that she sounded angry or hurt, but more that she sounded confused.
"I've been waiting for you," he whispered, stepping closer and closer to her. He could see the unsteady rise and fall of her chest as he neared, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was making her nervous. He hoped so.
She closed her eyes briefly, taking in his scent. He was mere inches from her now, and she could tell that he had been waiting by the fire for quite some time. She could smell the smoke from the fire on the fabric of his shirt, and it was a bit intoxicating. When she opened her eyes, she was intimidated by their proximity. "I'm sorry that I've kept you waiting," she whispered. "I didn't know."
He smirked. "I didn't tell you to meet me, but that was because I wanted you to need me."
Her breath hitched. "Malfoy, what is it that you were waiting for, exactly?"
"I wanted to know why you've been avoiding me. I wondered if I had done something wrong."
She shook her head. "No, it isn't you. I haven't been really talking to anyone much lately."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I was upset."
"About?"
"About something that someone said."
"Thanks for clearing up that vagueness."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't particularly want to talk about that," she said, turning away from Draco. "If I wanted to talk about it, I wouldn't have had to avoid everyone."
He stepped closer, his chest very nearly pressing into her back, brushing himself against her ever-so-lightly. "Then tell me. What was it you needed me for?"
"I want to know why," she said, regaining the confidence in her voice and turning back to face him. They had less than an inch of distance between them, and she could feel his breath against her cheek. She arched her neck, looking up at his six-foot frame, and trying desperately to appear taller and more assured than she felt. "Why did you leave me all alone that night? Why did I wake up that way?"
To her surprise, he chuckled. “Weasley, what's this really about?"
"I just told you."
"No," he snapped. "That might be a question that you've got, but that's not why you're here. It doesn’t explain why you would go for weeks acting as though I had never even been a thought in your mind, and it certainly doesn’t explain why you need me now. You want answers? Well, guess what, Weasley. So do I."
She searched her mind for answers. Nothing. She couldn't explain why she had avoided him for the past weeks beyond the weak excuse she had already given, and she didn't know why she was seeking him now. Truthfully, she didn't realize how badly she wanted to see him until he was standing before her, close enough to be touched.
"Well?" he asked, snapping her rudely from her thoughts.
"I don't know."
"I do."
"Enlighten me, then, Malfoy. If you've got so damn much insight into my life, into what I feel, then please share because I'm hanging on by a thread here!"
He blinked rapidly at her outburst. "You're scared, Weaselette," he said, moving closer to her. They were so close now that almost every inch of his body could be felt by her. "You think that after Harry didn't come crawling back to you, and after I left you to wake up alone, that no one wants you."
"Well?" she asked, mimicking the rude tone of his voice from when he asked the very same question only moments ago. "Have you got answers for me?"
Draco looked at her, and for the briefest of moments, caught a glimpse of something strange in her milk chocolate eyes. Need. Pure, unadulterated, frustrated desire was coursing through the veins of Ginny Weasley, and he made a choice. He made the decision to finally go for her, and he gave in to the question she was asking and the one her eyes were failing to hide. Do you want me?
In a split second, the miniscule gap between their bodies, the one thing that separated them, was closed. His lips pressed into hers firmly, and her body gave in as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to her with all of the strength her body could muster. His arms went to her slender waist, and he pulled her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his middle. He moaned into her mouth as she began to thread her fingers through his silky hair. In return, he tugged her fiery red locks, freeing them from the messy knot that bound them.
She moved her hips into him, and he began to feel his desire for her increase. He was unsure how to react, knowing that she was so pure and chaste, but his own desire and pent up frustration began to boil over and pushed him to his limit. He stumbled, pulling them to one of the sofas and laying her down on the plush surface.
He pulled away, looking deep into her eyes. They looked so much darker now. "I don't want to go too far, Gin," he whispered.
"I want you to take me, Draco," she cried. "Please. I need this."
Her eyes were filled with desperation, which was something that he’d never seen in her before. Unsure of what to do, he stood up. His respect for her outranked her desperate plea. "I won't do that. I won't let myself turn into your biggest regret."
A wave of realization breezed through her features. He had rejected her. She stood beside him, straightening her clothes and retying her hair into the loose knot it had previously been in. She felt embarrassed and ashamed, and could not make herself look at him directly. "I guess you answered my question," she said softly. "Now I need to figure out why I was asking."
She left before he could respond, but he at least knew that he had done the right thing.
When he heard the door swing open, and heard the sound of footsteps, he knew it had to be her. He didn't even need to look up before he spoke to her, and the sound of her pained voice chilled him to the bone. It wasn't so much that she sounded angry or hurt, but more that she sounded confused.
"I've been waiting for you," he whispered, stepping closer and closer to her. He could see the unsteady rise and fall of her chest as he neared, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was making her nervous. He hoped so.
She closed her eyes briefly, taking in his scent. He was mere inches from her now, and she could tell that he had been waiting by the fire for quite some time. She could smell the smoke from the fire on the fabric of his shirt, and it was a bit intoxicating. When she opened her eyes, she was intimidated by their proximity. "I'm sorry that I've kept you waiting," she whispered. "I didn't know."
He smirked. "I didn't tell you to meet me, but that was because I wanted you to need me."
Her breath hitched. "Malfoy, what is it that you were waiting for, exactly?"
"I wanted to know why you've been avoiding me. I wondered if I had done something wrong."
She shook her head. "No, it isn't you. I haven't been really talking to anyone much lately."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I was upset."
"About?"
"About something that someone said."
"Thanks for clearing up that vagueness."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't particularly want to talk about that," she said, turning away from Draco. "If I wanted to talk about it, I wouldn't have had to avoid everyone."
He stepped closer, his chest very nearly pressing into her back, brushing himself against her ever-so-lightly. "Then tell me. What was it you needed me for?"
"I want to know why," she said, regaining the confidence in her voice and turning back to face him. They had less than an inch of distance between them, and she could feel his breath against her cheek. She arched her neck, looking up at his six-foot frame, and trying desperately to appear taller and more assured than she felt. "Why did you leave me all alone that night? Why did I wake up that way?"
To her surprise, he chuckled. “Weasley, what's this really about?"
"I just told you."
"No," he snapped. "That might be a question that you've got, but that's not why you're here. It doesn’t explain why you would go for weeks acting as though I had never even been a thought in your mind, and it certainly doesn’t explain why you need me now. You want answers? Well, guess what, Weasley. So do I."
She searched her mind for answers. Nothing. She couldn't explain why she had avoided him for the past weeks beyond the weak excuse she had already given, and she didn't know why she was seeking him now. Truthfully, she didn't realize how badly she wanted to see him until he was standing before her, close enough to be touched.
"Well?" he asked, snapping her rudely from her thoughts.
"I don't know."
"I do."
"Enlighten me, then, Malfoy. If you've got so damn much insight into my life, into what I feel, then please share because I'm hanging on by a thread here!"
He blinked rapidly at her outburst. "You're scared, Weaselette," he said, moving closer to her. They were so close now that almost every inch of his body could be felt by her. "You think that after Harry didn't come crawling back to you, and after I left you to wake up alone, that no one wants you."
"Well?" she asked, mimicking the rude tone of his voice from when he asked the very same question only moments ago. "Have you got answers for me?"
Draco looked at her, and for the briefest of moments, caught a glimpse of something strange in her milk chocolate eyes. Need. Pure, unadulterated, frustrated desire was coursing through the veins of Ginny Weasley, and he made a choice. He made the decision to finally go for her, and he gave in to the question she was asking and the one her eyes were failing to hide. Do you want me?
In a split second, the miniscule gap between their bodies, the one thing that separated them, was closed. His lips pressed into hers firmly, and her body gave in as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to her with all of the strength her body could muster. His arms went to her slender waist, and he pulled her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his middle. He moaned into her mouth as she began to thread her fingers through his silky hair. In return, he tugged her fiery red locks, freeing them from the messy knot that bound them.
She moved her hips into him, and he began to feel his desire for her increase. He was unsure how to react, knowing that she was so pure and chaste, but his own desire and pent up frustration began to boil over and pushed him to his limit. He stumbled, pulling them to one of the sofas and laying her down on the plush surface.
He pulled away, looking deep into her eyes. They looked so much darker now. "I don't want to go too far, Gin," he whispered.
"I want you to take me, Draco," she cried. "Please. I need this."
Her eyes were filled with desperation, which was something that he’d never seen in her before. Unsure of what to do, he stood up. His respect for her outranked her desperate plea. "I won't do that. I won't let myself turn into your biggest regret."
A wave of realization breezed through her features. He had rejected her. She stood beside him, straightening her clothes and retying her hair into the loose knot it had previously been in. She felt embarrassed and ashamed, and could not make herself look at him directly. "I guess you answered my question," she said softly. "Now I need to figure out why I was asking."
She left before he could respond, but he at least knew that he had done the right thing.
Author notes: This chapter is unforgivably short, and I apologize! However, this is kind of a set-up chapter and we are only a few chapters from the end! :)
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