She unhooks her bra and, because at the end of the day they are still Granger and Malfoy, he can't resist getting another quip in: "I do know how to do that, you know." He's bemused, craning his head back to peer up at her, teasing.
But, also, the mental image of him being distracted enough that he fumbles for the clasp in front of her specifically and gets caught on it like some clumsy teenaged boy, well, it would be an actual personal nightmare, and so he's grateful for Hermione expediting.
He tugs the skirt the rest of the way off, hand splayed against the curve of her calf as she steps neatly out of her shoes and the puddle of fabric. You'd think he'd be immediately drawn to tits and ass — predictable — but there's something about the arch of her foot, the turn of an ankle, which Draco suddenly finds both mundane and hypnotising. He's never been close enough to consider Hermione Granger's knees before, and he is now considering them quite a bit. They've never usually been this physically close to each other before, their guards and walls dropped.
And yet the skirt's off and so is her bra and so, keenly aware of priorities, Draco moves back up again — he hesitates over the scar on her abdomen, his thumb tracing it briefly, but he doesn't linger yet. Doesn't ask questions. Instead it's a short distance to her now-bare chest, thumb now brushing against a nipple before his mouth closes over the other one, all wet heat and tongue.
no subject
But, also, the mental image of him being distracted enough that he fumbles for the clasp in front of her specifically and gets caught on it like some clumsy teenaged boy, well, it would be an actual personal nightmare, and so he's grateful for Hermione expediting.
He tugs the skirt the rest of the way off, hand splayed against the curve of her calf as she steps neatly out of her shoes and the puddle of fabric. You'd think he'd be immediately drawn to tits and ass — predictable — but there's something about the arch of her foot, the turn of an ankle, which Draco suddenly finds both mundane and hypnotising. He's never been close enough to consider Hermione Granger's knees before, and he is now considering them quite a bit. They've never usually been this physically close to each other before, their guards and walls dropped.
And yet the skirt's off and so is her bra and so, keenly aware of priorities, Draco moves back up again — he hesitates over the scar on her abdomen, his thumb tracing it briefly, but he doesn't linger yet. Doesn't ask questions. Instead it's a short distance to her now-bare chest, thumb now brushing against a nipple before his mouth closes over the other one, all wet heat and tongue.