Seeing that she still had a stern face, Draco nuzzled her soft hair with the tip of his nose, making a conciliatory promise:
"Next time I go out, I'll take you with me."
"So that someone won't be at home, reading love poems while overthinking and getting jealous for no reason."
Hermione lay on top of Draco, her hands still pressed against his firm chest, and glared at him fiercely. "I don't like going to places like casinos, they're noisy and smoky."
"Oh? Is that so?" Draco looked down at the pouting little girl in his arms, gently stroking her soft cheek. "Who was jealous just now? They were so nervous, questioning her for ages just because they smelled a little unfamiliar fragrance."
"I'm just reminding you to be mindful of your boundaries! Don't get too close to other people when you're out. It has nothing to do with being jealous..." Hermione seemed to be burning with anger, but she just wouldn't admit it.
"Okay." Draco nodded, his fingers sliding from her cheek to her earlobe, gently pinching her warm, soft earlobe. "Then I'll go less often and try to come back earlier. So that someone won't be at home, reading love poems while overthinking."
"Who's thinking such nonsense!" Hermione's face instantly turned bright red; she couldn't withstand such direct teasing any longer.
In a fit of despair, she buried her burning cheeks back into his warm chest, her forehead pressed against the firm muscles beneath his pajamas, and mumbled softly, "I didn't..."
Feeling the soft struggle of the person in his arms, Draco abandoned his teasing mood and asked gently, "Are you hungry?"
Hermione paused for a moment, a sweet ripple spreading through her heart. She lifted her head from Draco's clothes, her eyes still slightly evasive, her cheeks still flushed, and whispered, "... A little."
After saying that, she seemed to feel that her answer was too submissive, and quickly added awkwardly, "I'm not hungry because... because I'm overthinking, it's just that it's lunchtime."
"I've already deliberately avoided this topic, but someone insisted on bringing it up again. It seems they really care about this?" Draco finally couldn't help but chuckle.
"You!" Hermione was extremely embarrassed and immediately covered his mouth with her hand to stop him from continuing. Her voice was filled with panic and coquettishness, "Shut up! Don't say another word! Go eat!"
A blush spread across her face, and her soft little hands were gently grasped by Draco and enveloped in his warm palms.
Holding her hand with one hand and gently supporting her waist with the other, he used his waist and abdomen to help her sit up smoothly.
"Okay, okay, that's enough. Let's go eat."
After regaining her footing, Hermione's heart wasn't completely calm. She wrinkled her nose, thought seriously for a moment, then, as if suddenly remembering something important, reminded him with a look of disdain:
"Go take a shower first, wash off that weird, unpleasant perfume smell from you before you come out. I don't want to smell that odor while I'm eating."
"Yes, madam." Draco saluted.
After saying that, he let go of her hand and turned to walk towards the bathroom.
As he walked to the door, he turned back and winked at her.
But all she got in return was another embarrassed and annoyed glare from Hermione.
The bathroom door closed, and soon the sound of running water could be heard from inside. Through the frosted glass, a hazy light and shadow shone through.
Hearing the faint sound of water, Hermione cupped her face in her hands, feeling the heat on her cheeks hadn't completely subsided.
She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart, then her gaze fell on the carpet, where the thread-bound collection of ancient poems and a few chips still lay quietly.
Hermione crouched down, picked up the chips, examined them in her hand, and pouted, "Just messing around..." She then carefully placed them on the small table beside her.
Then she turned to the page of the poetry book, the pages slightly creased from her earlier snatching and Draco's actions.
That love poem is still vivid in my mind.
At this moment, her heart felt as if it had been gently tickled by a feather, and that familiar flutter resurfaced, but this time it was warmer than when she was reading alone.
Was what I did just now too obvious?
He frowned and questioned her as soon as he smelled a hint of perfume.
He's acting like a paranoid person...
I just happened to turn to this page, just happened to see this line of poetry, so many tender and poignant lines, how did he have to pick on it? And then he made fun of me... How embarrassing!
A wisp of steam seemed to seep out from the crack in the door. Hermione gently closed the book, shutting out her turbulent thoughts.
"Who was thinking about him... I just happened to see him, that's all. I wasn't thinking about him on purpose." Hermione muttered to herself, as if trying to convince herself, or perhaps justifying herself to thin air.
That's what she said, but the corners of her mouth involuntarily turned up, and the shyness in her eyes turned into a subtle tenderness.
Just as she was lost in thought, the bathroom door was gently pulled open, and Draco walked out, drying his hair. He only had a white towel loosely tied around his waist, and Hermione was instantly stunned.
'You, you, you...' She stammered, her cheeks flushed crimson, heat shooting from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. Her eyes didn't know where to look—the ceiling, the carpet, the window—but she dared not look at the man who was almost half-naked walking towards her.
Why didn't you put on some proper clothes before coming out!
"What's there to be afraid of?" Draco said smugly. "It's just your wife seeing you, why are you trying to hide it?"
As he spoke, he deliberately reached out and hooked the edge of the towel at his waist, pretending to pull it down, staring at her teasingly, and asked, "Or... do you actually want to see more clearly?"
"No! Stop it--!" Hermione's voice shrieked. She was so frightened that she closed her eyes tightly, covered her face with her hands, and instinctively shrank back, afraid of seeing something she shouldn't have.
" Draco! You—you go get dressed right now!"
She covered her face, her heart pounding. Through her fingers she could see nothing but Draco's laughter and the faint sound of his bare feet approaching on the carpet.
After waiting a few seconds, the expected horrible sound of the towel hitting the ground didn't happen. Only then did Hermione dare to peek out through the gaps between her tightly covered face fingers...
Draco stood there, laughing heartily. His towel was neatly tied around his neck, but his fingers were still hooked at the edge, and his face wore that familiar, wicked smile.
"You! Go get dressed! Hurry up!" Hermione commanded, a sigh of relief washing over her. She lowered her hand, both embarrassed and annoyed, but her face remained bright red as she glared at Draco.
"Otherwise... otherwise I won't eat with you!"
This was the most severe threat she could think of.
"Okay, okay, I'll go get dressed." Draco smiled, turned around, walked back to the bathroom door, picked up the clothes he had draped over the back of the chair, and glanced back at her again. "Wait for me."
After saying that, he took the clothes and went into the dressing room.
"She has absolutely no sense of propriety..." Hermione muttered to herself, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but curl upwards.