Crack the Shutters, a harry potter fanfic

"Crack the Shutters"

A/N. Just a little blurb! Tell me what you think! ps i know i disappeared. life happened. fast. but i had a few minutes and this song is so beautiful you should defianately check it out. its by snow patrol. OH and this is all stream of conscious. think of it as their thoughts as they are looking at their lover. thats the best way to read/write anything i think. as the mind goes it jumps and jumps.

Disclaimer. I own nothing. No profit, no copyright infringement intended. Also I used song lyrics in my writing. Kudos to you if you spot them and tell me the artist and song(no im not referring to the snow patrol lyrics) ps I know there are a lot of fragments. Call me crazy but that's how I like to write.

Warnings – femslash, don't like, don't read.

You cool your bed-warm hands down on the broken radiator,
And when you lay them freezing on me, I mumble "can you wake me later?"
But I don't really want you to stop and you know it so it doesn't stop you
And run your hands from my neck to my chest

Fleur's POV

I hate waking up. Well, I love it, but I hate it at the same time because that means the day is starting and I have to get out of bed from laying with you. I have always loved the feeling of your body next to me. I remember the first night we slept together. You know what I mean by slept together, I mean slept next to each other. Of course I do remember that other night we slept together. That was just as unforgettable and amazing, but something about laying innocently next to you, our hands grazing as if we weren't together, a soft kiss on the shoulder, a brush of the hand on my thigh, innocent. I remember it all and I take it in every morning. I always wake before you. Too many times were you the first one awake during the war. Now you sleep peacefully, knowing I am next to you. Knowing that I love you. I do love you. I always have. I love every bit of you. I love the feeling of you next to me more than I could ever describe. It is like this security knowing you are there that I cannot put into words. Even when you are not there, I can feel you. I can feel the heat radiating from your body to my back. I can feel your arm draped lightly over my waist, your fingers grazing my stomach. I can feel my neck resting on your other arm. I can feel your heartbeat beating into my back like a drum, like a constant clock of our love ticking away the seconds and timing each moment as if it was a stop watch timing how long it takes for me to fall asleep. Tick, thump, tock, thump. I go to sleep every night with you at my back, with you at my side, with you in my soul, in my heart. That's why I hate waking up. I can't feel your heartbeat on my back, I only hear it in my head. I love you, Hermione Jane Granger.

Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day
And just watch you as the rays tangle up around your face and body
I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute
Cuz' the daylight seems to want you just as much as I want you

Sunlight has always done you wonders. The way the sun hits creates this beautiful auburn glow. When the sun hits your eyes they become this new color. A color that doesn't have a name. I could really sit for hours staring at you. I constantly create different scenarios in my head of ways we meet each other and romantically embrace. I know you do too. I imagine us trying to go opposite ways through a doorway and getting stuck facing each other, your smell intoxicating, your touch electrifying. I imagine you walking through the door of my work and me jumping over the counter hugging you fiercly. Everything is so dramatic but the way the sun hits you is too. There is nothing wrong with me being dramatic. I am veela afterall. I just want to feel you, look at you, touch you. Your skin is softer than a baby. When you sing to me, your voice is sweet as candy, your lips are rosy red, sweet as cherry wine. I love the way you sing in the morning. You awake and move towards the dresser. You always wear loose pajama pants that hang dangerously low on your hips. Your underwear peaks slightly about it and your shirt is up too high and I get a glimpse of your beautiful stomach and so does the sun. But sometimes you are naked. And that is when I become jealous of the sun. It touches you as I do. I feel like I have to compete with the sun. I like to wrap you in my arms. I like to let you know how much I care for you. You're the most important person in the world to me. I love you, Hermione Jane Granger. Will you marry me?

It's been minutes, it's been days, it's been all I will remember
Happy lost in your hair and the cold side of the pillow
Your hills and valleys are mapped by my intrepid fingers
And in a naked slumber, I dream all this again

Hermione's POV

I hate getting up in the morning. I love it, but I hate it at the same time. I don't want to leave your side. Every night when I go to bed with you and I press my chest against your back I feel as if I am responsible for the most important thing in the world. I feel like I am the beholder of the world's greatest treasure. I'm afraid to break you so I gently drape my arm across your waist and carefully brush my fingers against your stomach. I protect your sweet neck with my arm. I want you to be safe and comfortable. You are so important to me. I love to feel you. I love to explore you. Every time we lay together at night it is a new adventure for me. A new book to read and learn. I have memorized almost every piece of you and you simply get more elegant a beautiful with each time I gently place butterfly kisses on your stomach, your breasts, your neck, your mouth. Your mouth, the sweetest thing in the world. You taste of vanilla and something I cannot put my finger on. Its strong and intoxicating. Its like an alcohol. The taste of your skin is subtle. You get nervous when I remove your clothing. I don't know what you're trying to hide. Maybe you don't want the moon to see you the way I do. I don't want the moon to touch you. I want to touch you. The moonlight always has a way of moving across your body just as the sun does. They exemplify your beauty. You're so beautiful, Fleur, I cannot describe it. You are heavenly. Your beautiful skin is free of flaws and delicate. I love to run my ink-stained hands across each inch you. When you get goose bumps in the middle of the night, I laugh silently to myself. You become so fragile yet you are so strong at the exact same time. You're so beautiful. I almost wish you could see what I see, but then I'd be missing out. Call me selfish. You're so important to me. I constantly want more. I constantly want you. I want to get caught with you in the rain, lay in the sun for hours, get lost with you. I want you. I love you Fleur Delacour.

I love when you wrap your arms around me in the mornings when I open the shades. It feels like you're protecting me from the sun, as if you are jealous that it is touching me. When the sun hits you, though, it's like watching the sun rise on a magnificent wheat field. Each and every strand of your hair is illuminated and shines almost as brightly as the sun. I wonder what it is like to have blonde hair. I would look terrible with blonde hair. I could admire you all day. You really are the most beautiful person in the world, you know. When the sun hits you, it moves slowly, admiring each part of you. I want to follow the sun with my hands. I want to move with the sun slowly up and down you. I want to whisper in your ear like the wind whispers through the trees. Your hair smells of flowers in early spring. Natural and magnificent. Alive. Your eyes are that of the full moon hitting the ocean on the calmest of nights. Your eyes sparkle with this majesty that is impossible to formulate into words. The feeling that your eyes emit is almost tangible. Almost capable of being held within the palm of my hand. Do you know the power you have over me? You don't need to ask me. All I ever would ask of you was to look at me the way you do each morning when the sun hits my naked body. Your look is enough to show me that you love me. You love this bookworm, this lover of details, this plain, inspired woman. The feeling I get in my stomach, this turning, butterfly feeling, everytime I think of you, lets me know I love you. The beautiful, powerful veela. The inspiring, confidant, generous, amazing person that I have come to love and appreciate more than anything in the world. I love you Fleur Delacour. Will you marry me?