You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com
View Online | Printer Friendly Version of Entire Story
Chapter 8: Incongruity
Ch 8 Incongruity
“Hello,” Alisha shouted.
She was so agitated. How was it that the day she needed peace her house was like Grand Central station? She had heard the instrumental to No One Mourns the Wicked at least four times from her cell phone. Two of the calls were from friends and the other two from her father, the most unwelcome calls of all.
“Hello,” a voice said cheerily.
“Danielle!” Alisha cried in disbelief. “What do you want?”
“Whoa there killer! What’s got your panties all in a twist?”
“You’re disrupting the process.”
Danielle was completely familiar with "the process". It was how they -Alisha, Melanie, and Danielle- referred to the complicated compilation of the perfect outfit, scent, and appearance for a first date.
“Oh, you’re going out. With who?”
“Danielle, I don’t have time for this. What did you call for?”
“Okay, if you’re gonna be like that, I’ll just hang up.”
“WHAT DID YOU CALL FOR?”
“Relax!” Danielle was laughing. “I was going to invite you to the movies, but since you’re going out with that guy… What’s his name again?”
“Nice try, Danielle.”
“Ah, it was worth a shot.”
“Goodbye!” She threw the phone on her bed and pulled another shirt out of her closet.
This was ridiculous! All she had to do was pick a color, red or green. How could this be so difficult?
* * *
So it had taken him two weeks but he had figured it out. He was driving. Never thought the day would come when Draco Malfoy would be driving a Sedan. A green Sedan at that. He was lucky Dan’s car was green or else he’d be beyond nervous about tonight. At least the Slytherin color gave him confidence.
So he glided into the driveway-well actually he kind of stuttered into it- and she opened the door as he parked. He was awestruck by her appearance as she descended the porch stairs. She was always pretty, but he finally understood why she didn’t dress up for school. Had she looked this perfect at school no one would ever get any learning done. She was put together in a way that made him sort of breathless.
There was something about her today that gave him confidence. He rushed out of the car to open the door before she got there.
“Thank you,” her voice was as smooth as silk and as saccharine as honey.
She placed her hand on the door as she sat. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down, grazing her hand, and stroked her ear lightly with his lips, whispering huskily.
“You’re wearing my color,” He waited for a reaction. He was disappointed.
She faced forward with her head held high. Not even a smile blessed her jaw line. He kept his confidence however, and sauntered back to his seat, trying desperately to mimic her unreceptive behavior. He was finding it difficult to be passive in spite of the fact that her new conduct was usually his normal behavior. She had some incredible power over him. Her beauty was gaining control over his hormones and his mind. Who would have thought a muggle could be so captivatingly superior? Then again, muggle or no, she was still a bloody cracker.
They were on their way, driving smoothly down the country roads. He lost his feebly cold manner once they reached the freeway. Unable to ignore her anymore, he discretely turned his head to stare at her sculpted thighs, which were exposed in the denim pencil skirt she was wearing. Her crushed velvet halter was tempting him, to say the least. A low cut halter, though not low enough to be worthy of Parkinson. His hungry eyes roamed higher, starting at her thin collarbone, moving to her prominent chin, and finally to her shimmering red lips.
“What did I tell you about staring?” She was still looking ahead. He smirked.
“Why are you acting like you don’t love the attention?” He got her to look this time. He kept his eyes on the road. “That’s what I thought.” She rolled her eyes.
“So where are you taking me?”
“Where do you want me to take you?”
“Why are you answering questions with questions?”
“Why are you asking so many questions?”
She gave him an adorably condescending stare with her eyebrows arching so high they almost reached her side part. She was giving him the classic “oh, so you think you’re cool” look. He didn’t need Leglimens to figure that out.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Not if you’re going to tease me,” was her stubborn response.
“Okay. I won’t tell you then.”
She rolled her eyes and went to hit his shoulder. Again he was too quick. He grabbed her wrist and caressed her delicate fingertips with his lips as he guided the car into the lot. He was getting very good at this driving thing.
“I’ll show you,” he elaborated.
She turned and looked out of the window. Her sharp intake of breath gave Draco his swagger back.
* * *
She was astonished for the first time in her life. The fall colors took her breath away. Despite all her years in Pennsylvania, seeing the autumn changes, she never thought the leaves could be this handsome. The colorful trees surrounded the lake. The dying sun peaked through the newly formed gaps in the tree branches causing sporadic spots of light to fall on the ground. The light made the lake water golden.
“How did you find this place?”
She was breathless. His answer was frighteningly close. She turned to look at him only to find the driver’s seat empty. She looked back out of her window and saw him standing with his arm outstretched chivalrously toward her. His blonde locks caught the sun making a pseudo halo form around him.
“I have my sources.”
She was starting to wonder if he was always so vague. She reached for his hand and tried to be as elegant as possible in her three-inch heels. He still towered over her with at least six inches.
“I think you have even better sources than me.”
They walked together to the edge of the lake and finally Alisha noticed the restaurant shrinking slowly behind them.
“I’ll be back,” he told her gently.
Her hands were held opera style and she stood as tall as she could. She nodded and watched him walk to the front door. The restaurant was more like a cottage, probably a bed and breakfast. The three story building was painted canary yellow and wrapped with a quaint white porch and terrace. She was in love. She might be in love with more than the building...
He came back with a wicker picnic basket hanging from his arm. A blanket, and not the typical red-checkered one, no, this blanket was solid eggshell blue and was draped over his shoulder. It was odd. He sauntered towards her with his peculiar blue blanket and wicker basket.
How could anyone saunter so naturally?
“Dinner is served.”
He shook the blanket out onto the soft grass. He put down the basket and pulled out two bowls. The bowls were overflowing with chicken Caesar salad and luscious strawberries. With pride and ceremony, he placed plastic forks on top of folded napkins that were set next to paper plates. Last, he centered a loaf of bread between them.
“You’re spoiling me,” she said truly bashful.
It was an emotion that few could bring out in her.
“You’re encouraging it,” he said serving her salad.
He served himself and took the first bite. She followed suit, taking a forkful of crisp lettuce and warm chicken. She realized she was ravenous. She hadn’t eaten all day so that she would be able to finish any dinner he had planned on. She was almost disappointed in the simplicity of the date he had planned. No doubt it was beautiful in its simplicity, but the truth was, his reputation for seduction had made her assume Drake would have designed something more elaborate and scintillating.
She looked up hoping to gauge any future plans. She saw his plate and realized he wasn’t eating at all. He was just staring.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked ashamedly, seeing as she had already devoured most of her plate.
“Looking at you is filling enough.” She tried not to smile foolishly and the only thing that could prevent it was a snide remark.
She reached over for a strawberry. He cocked an eyebrow.
“You’re line, it’s was utterly predictable. Honestly, it destroyed all my respect for British charm.” She placed the tip of a strawberry on her lower lip and bit down slowly, closing her eyes. "Mmmm, these are good," she moaned.
“It’s hard to be charming when I’m letching after you, darling.” She nearly choked on the next strawberry she ate.
“I- I’m sorry-”
“You heard me. Letching after. I think the term is lusting here in the states.” He smirked, “How’s that for predictability.”
“Better.” She placed her hands on the blanket and leaned forward. “But you still can’t beat me.”
“Oh, really, is that so?”
“Really.” She was looking into his eyes confidently, despite the blatant lie she was telling; she knew how to be unpredictable and unbridled, but it required a certain level of impropriety she had never had to resort to. "I'm the queen of incongruity."
“Prove it.” He hissed.
* * *
As much as he liked Alisha, he liked winning more and he knew there was no way she could beat his lewd comment. He quickly realized that the green top she was wearing was giving him way too much confidence. He deflated when she threw it off onto his head, exposing a flat stomach and black bra covering swelling breasts. Then, she wriggled out of her denim skirt to reveal the thick sculpted thighs he had been staring at and her black knickers.
“How about a swim?” She suggested/
His mouth was hanging open. Bits of stuff didn't even begin to cover it.
“Enough proof for you!” she screamed before she dipped into the lake water.
He didn’t care about beating her anymore; joining her had a much more satisfying appeal. He pulled off his black trousers and red oxford shirt, so he would be clad in only his red boxers. He tried not to run to the small line off beach surrounding the water.
He dived into the icy water. Alisha, apparently, was unaffected because she splashed water into his face immediately after he surfaced from his dive.
“Hey,” she mocked and taunted. “Can’t take the cold?”
“No, I don’t particularly care for the cold” he said plainly while he swam toward her, “but at least I can take the heat.”
“What’s that supposed to-?”
His lips captured hers, his arms encircled her waist, and Alisha grasped what heat he was talking about. She still felt the need to scold him.
“I’m half naked in a freezing lake and you’re trying to make out with me.”
“Hey, being half naked was your choice so don’t blame me for the circumstances.”
“Still, it wasn’t an invitation for you to try and devour my face.” She started squirming against his hold. He tensed making her still again.
“Alisha,” he said as gently as possible, “What happened to incongruity?" He ran his fingers through her curling hair and let his other hand linger on the small of her back.
"More like panic."
"Panic about what?"
"Realizing you want this as much as I do. Realizing you can have it."
He made his next move soft and pure; his kiss only grazed her lips.
“Don’t,” she said and in contrast to her protest she pushed her body closer to his, as if to test his intentions.
He kissed one corner of her mouth and crossed her face to kiss the other corner, using her nose as a bridge to send over his kisses.
“Don’t do anything you’re going to regret.”
“What's there to regret?”
His eyes won her over and showed his intention of getting what he wanted. She gave in, meeting him with her lips. He lifted her weightless body on to his hips so he could caress her back with his fingers. She kissed his forehead and combed his wet hair with her gentle touch. His mouth traveled from her lips onto her shoulders. She moved her hands to his shoulders and when he began to suck her collarbone, her nails scratched and dug into his taut flesh. His mouth glided lower onto the skin of her breast and her nails dug deeper. A moan escaped her lips and he looked up.
His hands were roaming every part of her body; she was too enraptured with his caresses to move. She needed control again. She placed her lips on his and ignored his beg for entrance into her mouth. Instead, she nipped at his bottom lip seductively, getting Draco to release a deep moan.
He needed her. He changed the pace again, joining their lips, ending her tease. Their lips smacked together and their tongues danced. He was skilled and fierce in his kisses. She was willing to lose control at last. He snapped the clasp on her bra and pulled her closer. Their bare chests were touching each other. He could feel her heaving breast and she could feel his beating heart. The feelings were so blissful they hadn't realized they had made their way back to the beach. Draco’s knees buckled underneath him and they fell back onto the sand, clutching each other desperately. Her lips never left his, his arms hugged her tightly.
Somehow, the air on the beach was warm, even humid, despite the autumn air. Alisha was panting, Draco was staring. Her glistening body was begging him to take her right there on the beach. He wanted her so badly. The yearning was desperate and unparalleled by anything he had ever experienced.
He rolled over, putting her beneath him and into the sand. He peered into her eyes, her deep brown eyes melting with passion. Her eyes wandered from his firm chest and her hands followed her eyes to explore his abs. He traced his index finger on the side of her ribcage down to the start of her lingerie, the only thing preventing him from having her. She shivered first, and then her hand snapped from his abs to the traveling hand on her waist.
“Don’t,” she panted.
“Don’t what?” he said defiantly. “Do anything you’ll regret.” He raised his eyebrows at her.
“Please,” she whispered apologetically.
She turned her face into the sand. He kissed her forehead, then the bridge of her nose, and her lips before getting up. He walked to their forgotten picnic and gathered the blanket. She was laying stalk still on the beach when he got back.
“Come on, beautiful.” He stretched the blanket out in front of him. She walked into him slowly covering her chest with her arms. He enfolded her in it.
“Don’t call me beautiful.”
“Because lies aren’t something I appreciate.”
She looked back at the grass. He was bewildered as to how someone so stunning could have such low self-esteem he’d never seen her display.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” He inquired.
“And you don’t believe them?”
“No. No one who knows what I know could possible be beautiful.”
“Why, what do you know that I don’t?”
"'Secrets?’ Secrets about who?”
"How? Do you have some kind of sixth sense?"
[A/N like it? hate it? I can’t improve without some good long descriptive input! Thanks for the read even if you don’t review but I can give you a personal thanks if you do review.]