[ Questioning how she feels about Gilgamesh isn't easy. She has to face the things he has done, the hurt he has caused, but also the understanding that they'd done so much together. She feels stronger because of him, as if she can hold her head up higher and show herself to be something more than the somewhat nervous witch she had been when she had first entered the Drabwurld, to be a Marchioness through their lessons and the time they spent together. It's hard to ignore that part of him simply because he had tried to use a part of her - but he had been desperate.
It's not forgiveness that Harry or Ron would get but it's something, an understanding that he knows her cracks and can slip his fingers under them, to break her apart with just the right words. He's shown that he can do it before - in the training room, with his patronus - and she's sure he could do it again if he wanted to. Gilgamesh knows Hermione because she had let him, because she was free with her friendship and her affection until proved wrong.
He stands and she hesitates, wondering if she should move, until his hand grips at her and holds her in place. It's startling to remember that he's a little taller than she is, since she had been leant over him to hold him just moments before, but what startles her more is the kiss. The simple intimacy is easier now, thanks to her friendship with Dorian, but this is nothing like those - it's chaste and gentle, a quick thing that she might have missed if she'd blinked. Even so, when he moves away, her hand lifts to touch her lips, wondering as her head turns to follow him.
Just Hermione. Her hand curls and she lets it drop slowly. ]
And I like you. You don't need to be a king or anything more than yourself for that.
[ It wasn't him ranting and bring arrogant that had made her snap, after all; it was the accusation that she'd hurt him, somehow, and she knew just how to make him as upset as she had been. ]
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It's not forgiveness that Harry or Ron would get but it's something, an understanding that he knows her cracks and can slip his fingers under them, to break her apart with just the right words. He's shown that he can do it before - in the training room, with his patronus - and she's sure he could do it again if he wanted to. Gilgamesh knows Hermione because she had let him, because she was free with her friendship and her affection until proved wrong.
He stands and she hesitates, wondering if she should move, until his hand grips at her and holds her in place. It's startling to remember that he's a little taller than she is, since she had been leant over him to hold him just moments before, but what startles her more is the kiss. The simple intimacy is easier now, thanks to her friendship with Dorian, but this is nothing like those - it's chaste and gentle, a quick thing that she might have missed if she'd blinked. Even so, when he moves away, her hand lifts to touch her lips, wondering as her head turns to follow him.
Just Hermione. Her hand curls and she lets it drop slowly. ]
And I like you. You don't need to be a king or anything more than yourself for that.
[ It wasn't him ranting and bring arrogant that had made her snap, after all; it was the accusation that she'd hurt him, somehow, and she knew just how to make him as upset as she had been. ]