Draco/Hermione (too many beds)
Her bag dropped heavily to the carpet and her back hit the mattress a second later. The duvet fluffed around her like a cloud, reminiscent of where she’d just been, 35,000 feet up.
Another day, another airport, another city, another bed.
She’d lost count of how many beds she’d slept in this month alone, but that was the price she’d chosen to pay in order to expand her case study to a global scale. But God…the price felt heavier every day.
So many people, none of them him.
So many beds, none of them theirs.
She fumbled for her mobile, doing the time change conversion as she unlocked it and tapped his name, putting it on speakerphone. It was seven in the morning for him; almost midnight for her.
It only rang once before she heard his voice, still sleep-drenched.
“Hi baby,” he murmured.
Her heart constricted in her chest. “Hi love. Did I wake you?”
“Mmhmm.” She could hear the rustle of sheets. Speakerphone suddenly felt too far away. She switched it off and brought her mobile to her ear.
“I miss you,” she whispered.
He made a soft sound of agreement. “Me too. You’ve no idea.”
She sighed wistfully, body slowly relaxing down into the bed as the familiar cadence of his speech calmed her system. “I wish you were here.”
“Wish I was, too. Hopefully the next circuit doesn’t conflict with a trial and I can come along. Hold your binders and get you teas and such.”
She smiled. “A proper secretary.”
“That’s right.” The warmth in his tone was a hug. She was almost nine thousand kilometers away from him, but for a moment it felt like she was in his arms. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
Her shoes thumped softly to the foot of the bed as she toed them off. “Are you sure? I won’t be in until late.”
“I know. Eleven forty, yeah?”
“Yes.” Her eyes drifted closed, his voice a lullaby. “Thank you. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I love you. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She felt mostly asleep already. “Hope you have a good day today,” she mumbled. “Love you.”
Touching down in London the following evening felt like an inhale. Rolling her suitcase to the curb and seeing their car waiting for her was a full-body exhale. He got out when he saw her, swinging around the bonnet to pull her into a hug.
He sighed gustily, squeezing her to his chest. “Hi baby.”
She clung to him, burying her nose into his shirt and breathing in the familiar scent of their laundry detergent and his spicy deodorant and all the combination of things that made him him. Hers.
“Let’s go home,” he said after a moment, dropping a kiss to her hair.
“Okay,” she agreed, but didn’t let go.
She already was.