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[brainiest]

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[depicted]

His expression becomes innocent. "Would you like me to show you?"

[brainiest]

"Dorian!"

Her hands drop, cheeks pink, her expression shocked and embarrassed.

"You - I really don't think that's entirely necessary, at all. You don't have to kiss me just to make a point."

[depicted]

"It wouldn't be to make a point." For everything that he has become, for all that he is—there is a purity in this. A candour of meaning, an earnest expression. A strange variation on the boy she once knew.

"It is pleasurable, kissing. Fun. I want you to have fun. If you won't look outside your friends, I would hardly be put-upon to give you that pleasure myself."

What's a little making out between friends?

[brainiest]

Her eyes flicker over his face, careful and unsure, her hands reaching for his before she hesitates. He makes it sound so easy, like kissing is just what people do - so different from the man that had taken a few months to be comfortable calling her by name.

"It - um. I have kissed people before. It might have been a few years ago but that doesn't mean I don't remember. I know that it's nice to kiss people, but... I mean, I, um. I don't think that's what you want from me, really. Is it?"

She's unsure. Dorian is her friend and she does love him, but kissing? That's another matter entirely.

[depicted]

Dorian huffs out a breath of air, exasperated. It's like she hasn't been listening. "I don't want it from you, Hermione. I want it for you. You can't deny yourself the world forever, Hermione."

[brainiest]

"I'm not denying the world! Just..." She hesitates. Hermione doesn't really know what she's doing; she just thinks it would be easier to be alone, to focus on work and protecting people rather than... Everything else. Her fingers flex a little as she breathes out, her eyes closing. "I don't know."

[depicted]

"I'll always be here," he tells her, and pats her once on the cheek before pulling back. "But I still think you should get out more."

[brainiest]

Hermione can't help but laugh at that.

"And your version of me getting out more is offering to kiss me?"

[depicted]

"It isn't like there aren't already rumours," he says, shrugging. "We can head out to a nice bench out in Parrais, make a real art show of it. The Lioness of the Citadel devours another!"

[brainiest]

... He does have a point. The freedom with which she allows him into her room - well, it had sparked a few talks, here and there. She ignores the rather apt use of the term 'devour' and shakes her head, lifting her hand to touch his cheek.

"Look at me a moment?"

[depicted]

He obeys, blinking at her with a wide-eyed innocence that seems to suit who he once was. "Yes?"

[brainiest]

Hermione pauses, her eyes flickering, before she leans in. It's quick, a very chaste peck against his lips, but then she is leaning back and grinning, as if she's won somehow.

"There."

[depicted]

A pause.

"That wasn't a kiss!"

[brainiest]

"Yes it was! Our lips touched and I'm fairly certain that is the definition of a kiss, Dorian Gray."

Honestly.

[depicted]

"No, this is a kiss," he tells her, and with an arm around her waist he pulls her mouth to his.

But Dorian Gray's definition of a kiss involves more than just lips touching.

[brainiest]

She makes a soft noise, a barely there protest, because it is a bit of a shock, but even she can admit that it's... Nice. It's a little awkward, considering, but her hand moves and touches his cheek, careful, as she tilts and leans into the kiss, letting herself have this one moment. If she's only going to have a few sparse flickers of romance here in this world (which seems likely, given her track record) she may as well make the most of it.

When she does lean back she rests her forehead against his, not wanting him to see just how pink and embarrassed she suddenly is.

[depicted]

"See?" And as if it were just as before, he tilts his head up so he can press a kiss to her forehead, chaste as anything. "Wasn't that fun? You need more intimacy in your life."

[brainiest]

Hermione hits his shoulder.

"You are terrible, I hope you know that, going around sticking your tongue down people's throats." For all that she's pink-cheeked and teasing, though, she is smiling. "I'm not just going to kiss anyone, you know. I would like to love them - or at least like them."

[depicted]

He laughs, even as he pulls back to dodge the hit. "If those were my qualifications, I would virtually only ever kiss my friends. And I don't have enough of those to make that feasible in the slightest. I don't even like half of the people I've slept with."

[brainiest]

"Then maybe you should start trying. I've heard it makes it better when you love them." Which makes her think of the hundred years, of course, and how many people he might have loved and lost - and her mind skips over that, forces her to think of the now. "You've shown me that kisses can be very lovely. Are you happy?"

[depicted]

"Trust me: it doesn't." He reaches back over for his teacup. Innocently: "Well, mine are. I'm afraid that after this, all other kisses will be a bit of a let down."

[brainiest]

"Everyone in the Drabwurld will have to try and compare to Dorian Gray's executive kissing technique." It makes her laugh, the sound escaping her even as she leans up to wrap her arms around his neck to hug him. "How will I possibly survive the unfortunate comparisons? My poor future husband."

[depicted]

"Or wife!" He returns the embrace, letting his hand find her hair. "Unless that is definitely not an option for you?"

Not like he's trying to narrow down who she should look through or anything.

[brainiest]

"Not really? I've never really been interested in girls that way. They're beautiful, of course, but when I ever thought about relationships..." Well, it had been boys. Viktor and then Ron and then Luke, here, in this world, but she's biting her tongue on that matter. "Boys, I think."

[depicted]

"I'll keep that in mind," he says, nodding to himself. Already a list of eligible men was forming in his head.