RP: Foggy Day in London Town
Date: June 17, 2005
Character(s): Roger Davies, Hermione Granger
Location: London
Status: Private
Summary: Roger and Hermione spend Sunday out of town.
Completion: Complete
It was cloudy, but so far, it hadn't rained. Roger turned away from the kitchen window and moved to the refrigerator to retrieve a carton of milk. Chugging it, he shut the refrigerator door and walked into the sitting room where he'd left his favorite well-worn pale blue button-up before breakfast. He set the carton of milk on the table in front of the sofa and pulled the shirt on, buttoning it up and rolling up the sleeves before he sat and listened for Hermione.
He knew where she was, of course. She was in his loo, getting dressed not 20 feet away. But it had become something of a habit for him to listen for her movements when he knew she was in the other room. He supposed that just knowing she was here, somewhere, was a comfort to him so he liked to listen for the sounds she made. The water in the sink ran for a few moments before it shut off and he smiled as he heard a rustling sound.
She'd been here for most of this week too, and while he wondered whether if things were better at home she might stay there more often, he was enjoying this while it lasted. He slept better with her, and Hermione had told him it was the same for her. Of course, a better night's sleep wasn't the only reason he loved having her here. Before her, he'd been content to be alone, if not totally happy. So the fact that he was sharing so much space and time with Hermione -- and that he wanted to share even more -- was a pretty big deal.
He slid down in his seat and rested his hands on his stomach as he looked around the room. There were traces of her everywhere, already. The books on the coffee table were more hers than his, and stacked neatly by size. A note next to the stack, with a neat list written out in Hermione's script. The blanket they'd snuggled under the night before last was folded tidily over the arm of the sofa. His big scuffed work boots were no longer lying on their sides where he'd toed out of them, but lined up by the door on a rug. He'd done that part, he remembered with a small smile, after catching Hermione's wince the last time she'd seen him leave them there.
God, he loved her so much.
Sitting up now, he leaned forward and scrubbed his hands over his face before he rested his elbows in his knees. He didn't think about it consciously very often because at some point, when he'd not been looking, the love had sort of crept in and taken hold, settled in his chest and just ... it was always there now. So that he didn't even have to think about it. It had grown to affect everything he did anymore so he didn't need to.
It was only times like this, when he did think about it, that it scared him. Mainly because he'd told himself, he'd known that he'd never be here again. Would never let himself feel this fiercely for anyone else, not after the way it had turned out before. Which had been pretty stupid as he'd not been able to stop it back then any more than he could now, even if he wanted to. With Hermione though, it meant even more, now that he knew the risk he was taking with his heart. And it was worth it, more than he could have anticipated.
He wondered how she'd react if he told her. More often than not it was on the tip of his tongue to say it. They'd not talked about anything like this though, hadn't even discussed the fact that they were almost living together now. They just never needed to talk, and that suited them in most things. At some point, they would need to get it out there; while there wasn't much he did with her that didn't show it, he didn't like the thought of Hermione being at all uncertain of what he felt for her.
She must be nearly ready now, he thought with a glance back at the loo. Hermione never took forever to get ready like a lot of birds he'd known, which was another plus as far as he was concerned. He was taking her to London today, which was a little too far on his bike so they didn't have to worry much if it rained, at least not on the way. The last time he'd planned on taking her there, they'd not exactly made it out of the house, so perhaps she'd enjoy this.
He was reasonably sure they'd not get distracted again. Smiling slightly, he remembered last night. And this morning, when he'd woken her with his finger trailing up her inner thigh and his lips at her neck. Perhaps, for the moment, it was out of their system -- at least long enough for them to get out of the house and Apparate to London, where it would be a bit more difficult to get sidetracked.
With a small laugh, he leaned back again, brushing a piece of lint off of his denims as he waited for Hermione.
Character(s): Roger Davies, Hermione Granger
Location: London
Status: Private
Summary: Roger and Hermione spend Sunday out of town.
Completion: Complete
It was cloudy, but so far, it hadn't rained. Roger turned away from the kitchen window and moved to the refrigerator to retrieve a carton of milk. Chugging it, he shut the refrigerator door and walked into the sitting room where he'd left his favorite well-worn pale blue button-up before breakfast. He set the carton of milk on the table in front of the sofa and pulled the shirt on, buttoning it up and rolling up the sleeves before he sat and listened for Hermione.
He knew where she was, of course. She was in his loo, getting dressed not 20 feet away. But it had become something of a habit for him to listen for her movements when he knew she was in the other room. He supposed that just knowing she was here, somewhere, was a comfort to him so he liked to listen for the sounds she made. The water in the sink ran for a few moments before it shut off and he smiled as he heard a rustling sound.
She'd been here for most of this week too, and while he wondered whether if things were better at home she might stay there more often, he was enjoying this while it lasted. He slept better with her, and Hermione had told him it was the same for her. Of course, a better night's sleep wasn't the only reason he loved having her here. Before her, he'd been content to be alone, if not totally happy. So the fact that he was sharing so much space and time with Hermione -- and that he wanted to share even more -- was a pretty big deal.
He slid down in his seat and rested his hands on his stomach as he looked around the room. There were traces of her everywhere, already. The books on the coffee table were more hers than his, and stacked neatly by size. A note next to the stack, with a neat list written out in Hermione's script. The blanket they'd snuggled under the night before last was folded tidily over the arm of the sofa. His big scuffed work boots were no longer lying on their sides where he'd toed out of them, but lined up by the door on a rug. He'd done that part, he remembered with a small smile, after catching Hermione's wince the last time she'd seen him leave them there.
God, he loved her so much.
Sitting up now, he leaned forward and scrubbed his hands over his face before he rested his elbows in his knees. He didn't think about it consciously very often because at some point, when he'd not been looking, the love had sort of crept in and taken hold, settled in his chest and just ... it was always there now. So that he didn't even have to think about it. It had grown to affect everything he did anymore so he didn't need to.
It was only times like this, when he did think about it, that it scared him. Mainly because he'd told himself, he'd known that he'd never be here again. Would never let himself feel this fiercely for anyone else, not after the way it had turned out before. Which had been pretty stupid as he'd not been able to stop it back then any more than he could now, even if he wanted to. With Hermione though, it meant even more, now that he knew the risk he was taking with his heart. And it was worth it, more than he could have anticipated.
He wondered how she'd react if he told her. More often than not it was on the tip of his tongue to say it. They'd not talked about anything like this though, hadn't even discussed the fact that they were almost living together now. They just never needed to talk, and that suited them in most things. At some point, they would need to get it out there; while there wasn't much he did with her that didn't show it, he didn't like the thought of Hermione being at all uncertain of what he felt for her.
She must be nearly ready now, he thought with a glance back at the loo. Hermione never took forever to get ready like a lot of birds he'd known, which was another plus as far as he was concerned. He was taking her to London today, which was a little too far on his bike so they didn't have to worry much if it rained, at least not on the way. The last time he'd planned on taking her there, they'd not exactly made it out of the house, so perhaps she'd enjoy this.
He was reasonably sure they'd not get distracted again. Smiling slightly, he remembered last night. And this morning, when he'd woken her with his finger trailing up her inner thigh and his lips at her neck. Perhaps, for the moment, it was out of their system -- at least long enough for them to get out of the house and Apparate to London, where it would be a bit more difficult to get sidetracked.
With a small laugh, he leaned back again, brushing a piece of lint off of his denims as he waited for Hermione.