Sickness;
Sickness.
Pansy/Hermione
PG
~340 words
the only capital letters used are for the names ('cause i really didn't feel like writing it right - can you tell?), so if you dislike that... annnd it's not betaed, so excuse me for any mistakes.
summary: Pansy's sick, and is being taken care of.
“what do you think you’re doing out of bed?” Hermione asked, getting up from her chair in the kitchen and walking in her girlfriend’s direction, “i told you, you need to stay in bed.”
“Hermione…” the dark haired woman started.
“don’t ‘Hermione’ me, who’s the mediwitch in this room?” Hermione said while helping Pansy by putting an arm around her waist, “let’s go back right now.”
“Hermione, it’s boring.” Pansy tried her best to look irritated, but not even that look would stick - she felt weak, and her face was so pale that she doubted any embarrassment would show.
“boring? but i’ve left your magazines there,” the brunette started, all the while making her girlfriend walk back to the bedroom, “and your books, and there’s the telly. i know you don’t like being sick, love, but what else do you need?”
“you.” the sick one replied in a small voice, her face turned slightly to the other side.
“what? i can’t hear you if you speak the other way, Pans,” she helped the woman on the bed, making sure she was comfortable.
“YOU, Hermione.” she replied the louder she could - and apparently embarrassment did show, which made she turn her head again, “i know that you’re the doctor, and that you wanted me to rest, but i’d feel much better if i had you here with me.”
“i… i’m sorry.” Hermione held Pansy’s face, her fingers brushing the pinkish blush on the sick woman’s face with care, “i just thought it would be better if you were left alone.”
“why ever would i feel better without you, Hermione?” Pansy looked her in the eyes, a small sneer on her features, “aren’t you supposed to be the brightest witch our age or something?”
“Pansy…”
“don’t ‘Pansy’ me, who’s the sick one in this room?” her smile was weak, but Hermione could still see it, “now come cuddle with me, I distinctly remember the doctor saying cuddle would help.”
“oh, indeed?”
“yes. unless you’re afraid I’ll puke on you.”
“shut up.” Hermione replied, lifting the covers.
Pansy/Hermione
PG
~340 words
the only capital letters used are for the names ('cause i really didn't feel like writing it right - can you tell?), so if you dislike that... annnd it's not betaed, so excuse me for any mistakes.
summary: Pansy's sick, and is being taken care of.
“what do you think you’re doing out of bed?” Hermione asked, getting up from her chair in the kitchen and walking in her girlfriend’s direction, “i told you, you need to stay in bed.”
“Hermione…” the dark haired woman started.
“don’t ‘Hermione’ me, who’s the mediwitch in this room?” Hermione said while helping Pansy by putting an arm around her waist, “let’s go back right now.”
“Hermione, it’s boring.” Pansy tried her best to look irritated, but not even that look would stick - she felt weak, and her face was so pale that she doubted any embarrassment would show.
“boring? but i’ve left your magazines there,” the brunette started, all the while making her girlfriend walk back to the bedroom, “and your books, and there’s the telly. i know you don’t like being sick, love, but what else do you need?”
“you.” the sick one replied in a small voice, her face turned slightly to the other side.
“what? i can’t hear you if you speak the other way, Pans,” she helped the woman on the bed, making sure she was comfortable.
“YOU, Hermione.” she replied the louder she could - and apparently embarrassment did show, which made she turn her head again, “i know that you’re the doctor, and that you wanted me to rest, but i’d feel much better if i had you here with me.”
“i… i’m sorry.” Hermione held Pansy’s face, her fingers brushing the pinkish blush on the sick woman’s face with care, “i just thought it would be better if you were left alone.”
“why ever would i feel better without you, Hermione?” Pansy looked her in the eyes, a small sneer on her features, “aren’t you supposed to be the brightest witch our age or something?”
“Pansy…”
“don’t ‘Pansy’ me, who’s the sick one in this room?” her smile was weak, but Hermione could still see it, “now come cuddle with me, I distinctly remember the doctor saying cuddle would help.”
“oh, indeed?”
“yes. unless you’re afraid I’ll puke on you.”
“shut up.” Hermione replied, lifting the covers.