Drabbletag - Ink
Title: Indelible
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Ink
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ginny/Hermione
Rating: G
Word count: 210
Hermione’s fingers are stained with ink. It’s pressed into the whorls of her fingerprints, into her cuticle beds, all those hours spent pouring over books worn right there on her hands.
Ginny’s hands are cleaner, but they’re rougher, all that time spent flying over the Quidditch pitch leaving her skin dry and brittle.
She likes to hold Hermione’s hands in her own, turning them over, stroking fingers across Hermione’s knuckles, watching the shift of delicate bones beneath the skin.
Their differences are most obvious like this, as are their similarities. They both have untidy fingernails, for instance. Ginny’s are from sports, from chipping her nails on the Quaffle. Hermione’s are from her teeth, from chewing distractedly on her nails as she reads.
But no matter how similar or different their hands may be, they always feel right when they’re intertwined. As if Ginny’s hands are empty and useless until she’s pressed palm-to-palm with Hermione, until she can feel Hermione’s skin against her own.
The ink on Hermione’s fingers is dry, so it never smudges on to Ginny’s. But Hermione leaves her mark in different way, invisible ways, and Ginny wears those marks with silent pride, licking her lips and savouring the taste of Hermione’s mouth in the hours they’re apart.
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Ink
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ginny/Hermione
Rating: G
Word count: 210
Hermione’s fingers are stained with ink. It’s pressed into the whorls of her fingerprints, into her cuticle beds, all those hours spent pouring over books worn right there on her hands.
Ginny’s hands are cleaner, but they’re rougher, all that time spent flying over the Quidditch pitch leaving her skin dry and brittle.
She likes to hold Hermione’s hands in her own, turning them over, stroking fingers across Hermione’s knuckles, watching the shift of delicate bones beneath the skin.
Their differences are most obvious like this, as are their similarities. They both have untidy fingernails, for instance. Ginny’s are from sports, from chipping her nails on the Quaffle. Hermione’s are from her teeth, from chewing distractedly on her nails as she reads.
But no matter how similar or different their hands may be, they always feel right when they’re intertwined. As if Ginny’s hands are empty and useless until she’s pressed palm-to-palm with Hermione, until she can feel Hermione’s skin against her own.
The ink on Hermione’s fingers is dry, so it never smudges on to Ginny’s. But Hermione leaves her mark in different way, invisible ways, and Ginny wears those marks with silent pride, licking her lips and savouring the taste of Hermione’s mouth in the hours they’re apart.