Loser, Whatever!
Unexpected
Oliver apparated with me back to my house in Kent.
"Do you want to come in?" I asked gingerly.
"Sure." He answered and he held the door open for me before he followed me inside and shut the door. I turned on a few lights and headed for a couch. I was tired! Oliver dropped down beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
I smiled and looked up into his face. He bent down and kissed me. It was slow at first, but I could feel his hunger as he deepened it. I twisted in the couch so I could kiss him better and he placed his hands at the nape of my neck. I placed mine on his shoulders as he pulled my face still closer to his.
"I love you." I breathed. I could feel his smile through the kiss as he dropped his hands to my waist and they slowly made their way up my shirt. I loved the touch of his skin against mine, and this was something we usually did, so I made no move to stop him.
He made his way up farther than I usually allowed and slipped his hands underneath my bra.
"Oliver..." I moaned. He took it the wrong way and lay himself down on the couch, pulling me on top of him. He moved his hands to my back and started undoing my bra.
"Oliver..." I said a little louder.
"What is it, love?" He asked as he slowly broke the kiss. I moved his hands away from my chest.
"I can't do this." I whispered.
"What's stopping you?" He sounded hurt and I felt bad, but not bad enough to reply.
"My parents." I answered softly.
"They aren't here right now." Oliver reasoned and pulled my face closer to his as he continued our kiss where we left off. He had misunderstood. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed myself off of him. He took it the wrong way and took my hands in his as he placed them under his own shirt.
"Oliver, please?" There were tears in my eyes now. I had no idea how they got there, and Oliver definitely heard them on my voice. He broke the kiss and sat up.
"What is it? Did I make you cry? I'm so sorry." He breathed and pulled me into his arms. I sobbed full-out into his shirt as he rubbed my back somewhat longingly, but I pretended not to notice.
"It's not that I don't want you in that way, I do! Don't get me wrong!" I clarified before I continued. "It's just that this was the reason my parents broke us up in the first place."
"I understand." He whispered into my ear.
"We can wait until there's nothing they can do about it, right?"
"Of course. It's only two more months." Oliver smiled. I let go of him so I could look at his face.
"It's late. I should be in bed." I said as I gazed at the clock in the corner.
"Do you mind if I sleepover?" He asked. "I just want to hold you close to me as you sleep."
I smiled. "You have no idea how many nights I've dreamed that I could sleep with your arms around me."
We headed upstairs where Oliver stripped to his boxers and I headed to the bathroom to change into my most modest pyjamas. He was already in bed when I entered. I climbed in next to him and he pulled his arms around me as promised.
It was tempting and I had to practice some real self-control, but we made it and it was one of the most amazing nights of my life.
I woke up cold the next morning. I turned to face Oliver, but he wasn't there. I sat up. Maybe it was just a dream. A wonderful, amazing dream!
I heard fottsteps downstairs and I got out of bed to investigate.
"What are you doing back in the kitchen, Oliver?" I asked as I spotted him at the oven. He had a shirt on as well as the boxer shorts he wore last night.
"Making breakfast." Taking note of the look on my face he added, "Don't worry, not eggs this time, just toast, anyone can make toast."
"Oh, well I guess that's acceptable." I approved as I sat down at the kitchen table.
"By the way, happy birthday!" He called as he pulled two black squares from the toaster.
"No way, I totally forgot about my birthday!" I exclaimed as he came over and placed a charred piece of toast on my plate.
"Luckily, I didn't. Or you would have been eighteen at our wedding. Nineteen's a much better age to get married at, don't you agree?" He said. I chuckled.
"Oliver, what setting did you put these in to cook for?" I asked.
"Six, why?" He asked. Well, maybe he was pretty much doomed in the kitchen.
"No reason. Just let me deal with meals from now on." I replied.
"Fair enough." He said and took a bite out of the black bread and made a face. "Is this the way it's supposed to taste?"
"Have you never had toast before, Oliver?"
"Of course, but I always thought Muggles had them this way." He explained.
"Not exactly. Next time you feel the impulse to make toast, try it at two or three." I suggested as I got up to adjust the dial on the toaster and put fresh slices of bread in. I threw the ones Oliver made in the trash.
"Two or three, got it." He repeated. I smiled and kissed him.
"Do you want to come in?" I asked gingerly.
"Sure." He answered and he held the door open for me before he followed me inside and shut the door. I turned on a few lights and headed for a couch. I was tired! Oliver dropped down beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
I smiled and looked up into his face. He bent down and kissed me. It was slow at first, but I could feel his hunger as he deepened it. I twisted in the couch so I could kiss him better and he placed his hands at the nape of my neck. I placed mine on his shoulders as he pulled my face still closer to his.
"I love you." I breathed. I could feel his smile through the kiss as he dropped his hands to my waist and they slowly made their way up my shirt. I loved the touch of his skin against mine, and this was something we usually did, so I made no move to stop him.
He made his way up farther than I usually allowed and slipped his hands underneath my bra.
"Oliver..." I moaned. He took it the wrong way and lay himself down on the couch, pulling me on top of him. He moved his hands to my back and started undoing my bra.
"Oliver..." I said a little louder.
"What is it, love?" He asked as he slowly broke the kiss. I moved his hands away from my chest.
"I can't do this." I whispered.
"What's stopping you?" He sounded hurt and I felt bad, but not bad enough to reply.
"My parents." I answered softly.
"They aren't here right now." Oliver reasoned and pulled my face closer to his as he continued our kiss where we left off. He had misunderstood. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed myself off of him. He took it the wrong way and took my hands in his as he placed them under his own shirt.
"Oliver, please?" There were tears in my eyes now. I had no idea how they got there, and Oliver definitely heard them on my voice. He broke the kiss and sat up.
"What is it? Did I make you cry? I'm so sorry." He breathed and pulled me into his arms. I sobbed full-out into his shirt as he rubbed my back somewhat longingly, but I pretended not to notice.
"It's not that I don't want you in that way, I do! Don't get me wrong!" I clarified before I continued. "It's just that this was the reason my parents broke us up in the first place."
"I understand." He whispered into my ear.
"We can wait until there's nothing they can do about it, right?"
"Of course. It's only two more months." Oliver smiled. I let go of him so I could look at his face.
"It's late. I should be in bed." I said as I gazed at the clock in the corner.
"Do you mind if I sleepover?" He asked. "I just want to hold you close to me as you sleep."
I smiled. "You have no idea how many nights I've dreamed that I could sleep with your arms around me."
We headed upstairs where Oliver stripped to his boxers and I headed to the bathroom to change into my most modest pyjamas. He was already in bed when I entered. I climbed in next to him and he pulled his arms around me as promised.
It was tempting and I had to practice some real self-control, but we made it and it was one of the most amazing nights of my life.
I woke up cold the next morning. I turned to face Oliver, but he wasn't there. I sat up. Maybe it was just a dream. A wonderful, amazing dream!
I heard fottsteps downstairs and I got out of bed to investigate.
"What are you doing back in the kitchen, Oliver?" I asked as I spotted him at the oven. He had a shirt on as well as the boxer shorts he wore last night.
"Making breakfast." Taking note of the look on my face he added, "Don't worry, not eggs this time, just toast, anyone can make toast."
"Oh, well I guess that's acceptable." I approved as I sat down at the kitchen table.
"By the way, happy birthday!" He called as he pulled two black squares from the toaster.
"No way, I totally forgot about my birthday!" I exclaimed as he came over and placed a charred piece of toast on my plate.
"Luckily, I didn't. Or you would have been eighteen at our wedding. Nineteen's a much better age to get married at, don't you agree?" He said. I chuckled.
"Oliver, what setting did you put these in to cook for?" I asked.
"Six, why?" He asked. Well, maybe he was pretty much doomed in the kitchen.
"No reason. Just let me deal with meals from now on." I replied.
"Fair enough." He said and took a bite out of the black bread and made a face. "Is this the way it's supposed to taste?"
"Have you never had toast before, Oliver?"
"Of course, but I always thought Muggles had them this way." He explained.
"Not exactly. Next time you feel the impulse to make toast, try it at two or three." I suggested as I got up to adjust the dial on the toaster and put fresh slices of bread in. I threw the ones Oliver made in the trash.
"Two or three, got it." He repeated. I smiled and kissed him.