Nothing Else
Title: Nothing Else
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: G
Word Count: 508
Warnings: Fluff, PWP
Summary: There was never enough time to kiss Ginny.
Note: It seems I hardly ever write anymore and I feel as though I get worse with the years (but maybe because I'm out of practice). I do hope you like it. A little post-Hogwarts drabble to keep my spirits up.
There was never enough time in the world to kiss Ginny.
I thought that, after the war, there would be plenty of time. After all the exclusive interviews with Rita Skeeter, after all the checkups at the infirmary, after all the funerals and weddings, I thought there would be enough time. But I found myself stalling, letting conversations dwindle into unstimulated silence, hoping she would move closer to me. Everyone told me I had been very brave but my palms got all sweaty around Ginny and I loved it.
As time went on, I learned to be content with the time I had to kiss her. Every morning before I went to the Ministry, every night before bed, every trip to Kings Cross, every romantic dinner, every Sunday brunch at the Burrow, every time before she Flooed to her next Quidditch stadium-it never felt like enough time but there was some time, at least. Even if it was a little bit. After Lily went to Hogwarts, we found ourselves alone in our home quite often. No meals to throw together, no clutter to pick up that wasn’t ours, no children to scold into getting to sleep on time. There was an awful lot of time to be tired.
There was also an awful lot of time to feel in love again.
I found myself running my fingers through her ginger hair more often, hoping the delicate strands would become part of my fingerprint. She kissed my cheek every now and again. She straightened my glasses on my face whenever she saw them slip down the bridge of my nose, something she hadn’t had time to do since the kids came ‘round. We fell asleep with her cheek nuzzled into the crook of my shoulder, her hand around my torso. Sometimes I think intimacy is more about connection than physical closeness. I never felt connected to anyone the way I felt connected to Ginny.
Even without all the hustle and bustle of the children about the house, I felt frantic for time to kiss her. I found myself daydreaming at work about coming home to her, sharing a home with her-I felt twenty years of age again, young and married and blissfully, blissfully in love.
One night she had rolled over to sleep and I reached for her, gently resting my palm on her cheek, my fingers touching wherever they could reach. She smiled at me, her eyes barely opened. But when I kissed her something ignited and she reached back.
I never thought I would feel sixteen again but I did. I felt as though Ginny and I were back at Hogwarts, stealing kisses in the corridors between classes, being late to Potions because I couldn’t get enough of her. Her fingers tangled in my hair and she kissed me, she kissed me, she kissed me. She kissed me and the whole world rolled itself up into a ball and tossed itself away because there was nothing else except Ginny.
There is nothing else except Ginny.
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: G
Word Count: 508
Warnings: Fluff, PWP
Summary: There was never enough time to kiss Ginny.
Note: It seems I hardly ever write anymore and I feel as though I get worse with the years (but maybe because I'm out of practice). I do hope you like it. A little post-Hogwarts drabble to keep my spirits up.
There was never enough time in the world to kiss Ginny.
I thought that, after the war, there would be plenty of time. After all the exclusive interviews with Rita Skeeter, after all the checkups at the infirmary, after all the funerals and weddings, I thought there would be enough time. But I found myself stalling, letting conversations dwindle into unstimulated silence, hoping she would move closer to me. Everyone told me I had been very brave but my palms got all sweaty around Ginny and I loved it.
As time went on, I learned to be content with the time I had to kiss her. Every morning before I went to the Ministry, every night before bed, every trip to Kings Cross, every romantic dinner, every Sunday brunch at the Burrow, every time before she Flooed to her next Quidditch stadium-it never felt like enough time but there was some time, at least. Even if it was a little bit. After Lily went to Hogwarts, we found ourselves alone in our home quite often. No meals to throw together, no clutter to pick up that wasn’t ours, no children to scold into getting to sleep on time. There was an awful lot of time to be tired.
There was also an awful lot of time to feel in love again.
I found myself running my fingers through her ginger hair more often, hoping the delicate strands would become part of my fingerprint. She kissed my cheek every now and again. She straightened my glasses on my face whenever she saw them slip down the bridge of my nose, something she hadn’t had time to do since the kids came ‘round. We fell asleep with her cheek nuzzled into the crook of my shoulder, her hand around my torso. Sometimes I think intimacy is more about connection than physical closeness. I never felt connected to anyone the way I felt connected to Ginny.
Even without all the hustle and bustle of the children about the house, I felt frantic for time to kiss her. I found myself daydreaming at work about coming home to her, sharing a home with her-I felt twenty years of age again, young and married and blissfully, blissfully in love.
One night she had rolled over to sleep and I reached for her, gently resting my palm on her cheek, my fingers touching wherever they could reach. She smiled at me, her eyes barely opened. But when I kissed her something ignited and she reached back.
I never thought I would feel sixteen again but I did. I felt as though Ginny and I were back at Hogwarts, stealing kisses in the corridors between classes, being late to Potions because I couldn’t get enough of her. Her fingers tangled in my hair and she kissed me, she kissed me, she kissed me. She kissed me and the whole world rolled itself up into a ball and tossed itself away because there was nothing else except Ginny.
There is nothing else except Ginny.