They think we're in love
The incident started with whispers.
Whispers of curiosity, whispers of jealousy, whispers of hope.
“Do you think they’re together?”
“There’s no way they aren’t shagging.”
“Hate is just the flip side of love.”
Hermione slid her eyes towards her coworker, barely stifling the upward curl of her lips as the stares and murmurs continued. He flicked an amused glance back, the soft weight of his palm coming to a rest at the small of her back, ushering her forward in line.
“How much longer do you want to keep this up?”
She could barely hear his question over the noise in the atrium where they waited to order their afternoon pick-me-up. The heat of his touch permeated the back of her sweater in pleasurable waves.
“I don’t mind having fun for just a bit longer.” She didn’t want their charade to stop.
“I’m pretty sure they think we’re in love.”
‘They’ in this instance didn’t refer to the gossip surrounding them, but to their would-be partners, family members, and friends.
“Then we make sure they know it and give up on us.” The words had barely left her mouth before she twisted around to face him, winding one hand into his platinum locks, the other pressed firmly against his chest, fingers twisting at the buttons.
Draco’s eyes widened at her proximity even as his face naturally lowered towards hers. They hadn’t kissed in all their weeks of pretending, sticking to suggestive touches and joint appearances. The dark spice of her perfume grabbed at him now, usually only a hint at an appropriate distance.
She hesitated a hair’s breadth away, eyes seeking permission.
He gave it to her, closing the sliver of space between them and drinking her in for the first time. This kiss, or this pretend kiss, whatever it was, had none of the awkwardness of so many other kisses, first or otherwise. Heads tilted just so, lips parted, tastes were taken in languid ease, every part as real as the arms winding around her back or the nails scraping the back of his head.
Draco was drowning in a sea of Hermione, inhaling deeply in need of air but finding only more silken heat and pressure he now desperately craved. The ambrosia surrounded and filled him, buoying him to heights from which he never wanted to fall.
“Sir? Miss?”
The timid call of attention dragged them out of the vortex, and they turned as a unit to stare at the barista twisting nervously at the towel tucked into his apron. Draco turned back to the lips he wished he had never left, expecting her face to be flush with embarrassment. Instead, her swollen lips had turned up into a glittering smile that did not meet her eyes.
“Taylor?”
“Yes, miss?”
“If you plan to continue working here for the foreseeable future, it would be in your best interest to know when and when not to interrupt your customers. Seeing us preoccupied, you could have called forward the customer behind us. Instead, you chose to pull me out of the best snog of my life and I am half tempted to vanish your entire cart and go find my beverage from someone with even a smidgen more awareness.”
Draco agreed with her, but also took pity on the trembling man. “Love, you know Taylor makes your drinks exactly the way you crave. We shouldn’t have gotten in line if we were going to hold everyone up the way we are.”
Salazar, even the way her brow furrowed and eyes sparked was adorable. She’d light him on fire for such thoughts. He tightened his hold on her when she tried to pull away, never removing his eyes from hers as he continued speaking, “We’ll have our usual along with our apologies. You can charge them both to my account.”
Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. And I am sorry, Miss Granger. One small flat white and one large dirty chai coming right up.”
“Malfoy—”
Draco cut her off with a swift tug to the side to allow the next person in line to move forward. He kept his voice low in her ear, continuing to hug her close. “This isn’t really the place for it, but I’m honestly tired of playing.”
She blanched at the confession. Hermione had thought their kiss was the sign of something more, something worth pursuing. She sure as hell knew she’d never felt that way before and instinct told her such discoveries were rare. His confession meant her feelings were one-sided, and the realization was unbearable.
“I…I…” For all she had ripped poor Taylor apart, now her words failed her like they almost never did.
“I want the real thing.”
It was as if they were under water again, the five simple words echoing through her mind distorted and in slow motion. I want the real thing. The real thing. Real.
“What do you want?” He asked.
Hermione shuddered at the heat of his breath ghosting her neck. She repeated his question to herself. What did she want?
“I..want…”
What happened next was both unsurprising given earlier threats and completely shocking.
“Malfoy! Granger!” Taylor called out their names sharply as he slid their drinks onto the takeout counter.
Seeing the look on her face, Draco tried to stop the impossible. “Wait, Granger, the drinks—” His arms dropped and he reached for the cups in vain.
One moment, the cart was there. The next, it was gone, leaving only a bewildered barista and an atrium of caffeine-deprived Ministry employees. Hermione breathed heavily with her wand brandished in a stance that would picture beautifully in the report to follow. Her curls waved uncontrollably around her shoulders in clear agitation. The image also perfectly captured Draco at her side, frozen mid-reach towards emptiness.
Nobody doubted their love anymore, even if their impulsive kiss was overshadowed by what became known as the Granger Coffee Incident. Future drinks from the atrium were purchased solely by Draco, who earned himself back into Taylor’s good graces with a complete upgrade of the previous cart, complete with updated tables and seating. The older man, however, did not lift the two-year order ban placed on Hermione Granger.