Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

One Night	By : ara51089 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 25170 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter; all is copyright to J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-One Night
- 1
AN: I've been writing fanfiction for a very long time and used to be very active on this website. I went away for a long time and didn't write any fanfiction for awhile. Now I'm writing again (though sparingly). This is my first ever Harry/Hermione. They're not really my OTP but I've always wanted to read a story about Harry and Hermione finding physical comfort in one another during the time Ron left them during DH and never found one I liked. So I just wrote one of my own. This spawned from an idea for several other stories and a sequel (actually prequel) is currently in the works. Please enjoy and review.

Edit: Dear THX1138. Rest assured I did not delete your flame; I enjoy flames, they make me really happy. Please feel free to keep flaming the story but don't labor under the delusion that your opinion means so much to me that I would delete it. BTW saying that fanfiction should cause a lynch mob? Ridiculous.

One Night

Rain fell like heavy coins against the canvas of the tent as Hermione stood at the open entry, gazing out at the darkness. A cool breeze swept through the tent, filling the room with the scent of rainfall. Harry turned over in his bed and watched Hermione for a moment before speaking.

“Hermione…we’ve moved three or four times since he left…he’s not coming back.”

Hermione remained unmoved. She looked like a statue as the wind swept through again, stronger this time, whipping her hair back away from her face. A tremor coursed through her body and she exhaled a trembling breath that fogged in the dark. Harry stood and went towards her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Hermione, please,” He reasoned softly, “don’t stand here, it’s too cold. You’ll get wet and sick; we can’t afford either one of us getting ill right now.”

She didn’t answer nor did she make any move to step away from the open tent entry. Harry tugged gently at her shoulders, trying to guide her away.

“C’mon, Hermione, please? Just come lay down, you haven’t slept properly in days.”

Finally she turned to look at him; her eyes were wet with tears but her brow creased angrily.

“I hate him.” She whispered savagely.

“You don’t mean that.” Harry said quietly; he pulled her gently away from the tent door, sealing it against the wet wind outside, “You’re angry. I’m angry too. But you don’t hate him.”

Hermione stood silent, her head bowed. Harry saw a single tear drop from her eye, a lone spec of glitter falling to shatter against the floor. He placed his hands on her shoulders and led her to her bed.

“Please, Hermione, just rest,” he urged softly as they sat on the bed.

“I’m just so angry, Harry.” Her voice was low and hard as iron; she raised her head and Harry saw fiery anguish in her eyes, “I want him to hurt for leaving us. For leaving me. I want to take my anger out on him but he’s not here. I want to hurt him.”

Harry gazed at her for a moment before taking her into his arms. Her breath shuddered violently as she finally gave into to tears; she wrapped herself tight around Harry, pressing herself painfully against his chest.

“Please, Harry, don’t let go…don’t leave me…” she mumbled through her tears; she drew her arms in between her body and his, curling up against him as he held her. “Tell me you won’t, please.”

“I won’t, Hermione. It’s okay. We’re in this together. Don’t be afraid of that; there’s too much else for us to worry about, we can’t start worrying about whether or not one of us is going to abandon the other.”

“You’re such a good friend, Harry…”her voice was softer now, Harry could hear the fatigue in her voice. “You’ve always treated me better than Ron has.”

She pulled back slightly to gaze up at Harry, pain etched into her features, her voice a wisp of cold air.

“Why do I have to love him? Why can’t it be you instead?”

Harry pulled back as well, uncomfortable with the direction her questions were going.

“No, Harry, please don’t go.” She pleaded laying her head back down against his chest, “Please hold me.”

“Hermione…”he said uneasily, “I can’t make any of this any better. I can’t make your pain go away.”

“Yes, you can.”

Her lips were still cold from the rainy wind and Harry trembled as they touched his neck. His voice sputtered in his throat, unable to remember how to speak.

“Make me warm, Harry,” Hermione’s voice was slow like honey.

“Hermione…” words finally escaped him in short bursts as her hands slid like living ice up under his shirt, leaving tingling trails in their wake. She lifted her head and met his gaze; Harry drew a deep breath as her eyes dug into him, warm and demanding. Harry swallowed hard, shivering from her frigid touch and from fear of what had transpired so quickly in their little tent. This is what Ron fears most. This is why he left. He thinks that this is what Hermione and I want or have or whatever’s in his crazy head; I can’t do this, it’ll just prove part of what he thinks right. And Ginny! I love her, I can’t do this, I can’t! “Hermione, we can’t do this, Ron-“

Hermione’s mouth assaulted his, cutting his protests short. She swallowed his words whole, keeping them safe in her stomach and bit down on his lip-she didn’t have to say aloud what her mouth had just made apparent: don’t say that name. When she pulled away, Harry was shivering and weak with confusion, making it easier for her to gently push him onto his back; she straddled his hips and Harry trembled at her closeness. Her hands slid up over his wrists, grabbing them and guiding his hands, one to her hip, the other lower between her legs. She leaned over, trapping his arm beneath her, breathing hard against his ear.

“Touch me, Harry,”

“I can’t, Hermione!”

“You can.” She sat up, staring intently down at him, “Ginny’s told me; I know that you’re good with your hands.”

Harry felt heat in his face; Hermione smiled at his modesty.

“She told me all about it; how you make her come over and over. She told me. I know you know what you’re doing. Please, Harry.” She arched sharply against him and Harry was disturbed to feel his loins stirring.

“Hermione, listen to me…” he breathed, placing his hands on either side of her face, and making her look at him, “please just calm down and think about what you’re doing.”

“No!” She grabbed his hands and pressed them down into the mattress, leaning over him as she moved her hips against him. “I’m sick of that, Harry; I’m tired of thinking. I’m always thinking; always have to be the thoughtful one, the careful one. Can’t I have just one time-one night-where I just do something mindless and stupid? Something that I’ll regret later? Can’t I have that like any other person?”

Tears fell from her eyes onto Harry’s face, salty in his mouth. She leaned down again, dragging her lips along the length of his neck.

“No one will ever know…” she whispered desperately, her fingertips trailing over Harry’s stomach and lower still, “we can keep it here, a secret, a mistake, a nothing that happened in the midst of something bigger than both of us.”

Thunder clapped in the sky above their tent as Hermione’s hand reached its destination, her cold hand warming itself around Harry’s hot, hardening flesh. Harry shuddered, his body aching now with unrestrained desire; but he had to rein it in, had to stop both of them from going any further.

“Hermi…one…” he begged softly, his back arching into her hand, “wa..wait-“

Hermione pulled her hand away and sat up straight, looking down at him. They stared at each other for a long moment, the only sound the raging storm outside. Say it, Harry. Tell her to stop. Her eyes were two smoldering stones, set with determination and longing. Harry opened his mouth but nothing came out. Hermione smiled gently at him before touching his cheek with her fingers.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she soothed, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it up over her head, “No one else can see us.”

Harry trembled at the sight of her half-nude form and tried to avert his eyes; how could he look at her like that, it was Hermione. They were like brother and sister and sisters don’t straddle their brothers half naked like this. She took his hands once again and put them against the bare flesh of her stomach; she was soft and smooth, but still freezing cold.

“Warm me, Harry,” she urged gently; Harry’s trembling hands moved over her stomach and she shivered, “Yes, please…just like that. Just touch me, that’s all I want.”

Harry’s breath grew shallow as she leaned over, her breasts pressing against his chest; he ran his hands up and down her back, trying to warm her cold skin. She breathed heavily against his neck, sending shivers down his body. He could feel his shameful erection painfully against the inside of his jeans and knew that she could feel it against her as well. Her hands fluttered like wounded birds over his body, unbuttoning and opening his shirt. She laid her head against his exposed chest, her hands gently tracing the curves of his torso.

“You’re so warm, Harry,” she breathed, “Everything about you is warm.”

For a moment they were still. Harry’s hands rested on her back as she lay curled against him. Harry looked up at the ceiling of the tent, concentrating hard on the sound of the rain, hoping that would soften his erection; his breath calmed as Hermione began to feel warmer against him.

“Harry,” she said softly.

“Yes?” his voice was barely a whisper; he felt as though if he were too loud it would shatter the calm that had settled over them.

“Unfasten my bra.”

Harry closed his eyes, fighting off the imagery of an even nuder Hermione, trying desperately to dissipate the instant reaction his body had to that imagery. He felt his fingers tracing the delicate material of the strap of her bra before reaching the clasps. He’d removed Ginny’s bra one-handed a dozen times before but now his fingers fumbled and he had to use both hands. Finally the hooks slipped out. Hermione sat up, letting the loosened undergarment fall away from her body before tossing it aside. Harry wanted to close his eyes again but found it difficult; his hands made their way from Hermione’s back to her front. Her nipples had instantly hardened at their exposure and a tremor coursed through her as Harry’s fingers touched them.

“Harry…” she moaned, her head falling back.

Harry’s breath shuddered and he pulled her close to him, biting hard on his lip; she moaned and gasped against the crook of his neck, her hands wandering idly along the length of his torso. They came to rest at the waist of his pants, tugging suggestively. Harry moaned, his entire body aching for her now; he lifted her up and away from him, sitting her on the mattress. She leaned heavily on her arms, gazing questioningly at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He sat up and for a brief moment considered standing and walking out of the tent and ending it all; but that passed quickly and he started to unbuckle his belt. Hermione murmured lustfully at the sight, crawling close to him and burying her face in his neck.

“Yes, Harry, yes…” she whispered, a frantic edge to her voice

As soon as Harry had removed his pants, he grabbed Hermione roughly by her hips and pulled her back onto his lap. Raspy moans ripped themselves from her throat as she pressed herself down against him.

“Is this what you want, Hermione?” he breathed in her ear, lifting his hips up against her.

“Yes, oh, yespleaseee…”

She sounded drunk; her words ran together and her body felt limp in his arms. He flattened his hands against her back, letting her body arch backwards, exposing her chest fully to him. He lowered his head, taking her nipple into his mouth. He could feel the heat between her legs, the scent of her cunt making him harder. He laid her back against the mattress, watching for a moment as her head shook back and forth slightly, eyelids fluttering madly. He ran his fingers down over her soft stomach and began to unfasten her jeans. She moaned her approval, tugging helpfully at her pants and underwear, lifting her ass up so Harry could yank them away from her. Finally she lay completely naked before him, her legs slightly splayed and her scent intensifying.

Harry—no longer hung up on his moral scruples and letting himself be completely run by carnal interests—wasted no time before burying his face between her legs. A brief shocked shout escaped her and her hands gripped his hair as he devoured her. Harry ran his hands down her thighs, lifting her up into his mouth before trailing to her inner thighs, spreading her wider, granting his tongue and teeth easier access. He felt her tremble, her body quaking and spasming as he sucked and tongued her. Using his fingers to spread her swollen, wet vulva he gently sucked her clit with his teeth, using just the right amount of pressure to make her entire body convulse violently.

“Harry! Oh, god, Harry!” she ripped at his hair, pulling his head up away from her; he looked up into her face, both of them gasping and barely coherent; she was shaking hard, tears sparkling in her eyes. He went to lower his head again but she kept his hair tight in her fist. “No, oh, no, I can’t take it anymore….it’s so good, it’s too much…”

Harry pulled himself up to his knees, sliding over her as he licked her off of his lips. She raised her arm lazily, wiping the remaining juices off of his face before pulling him down to meet her lips. Harry groaned against her mouth, electric currents coursing through his body. He wanted her bad—Ron, Ginny, Voldemort, war, and Wizarding World be damned; tonight was completely separate from all that, it was another world entirely. Hermione understood that, had understood it from the very start when she first begged him to warm her cold body. He understood it now as well and was more than willing to take full advantage of all this other worldly night had to offer. Thunder shattered the sky outside their tent, matching the intensity of their desire. Harry pulled away from her mouth, trailing his lips down her neck.

“Tell me what you want, Hermione, “he mumbled against her skin.

“I want to touch you now, Harry,” she gasped, placing her hands against his shoulders, pushing him up and back against the mattress, “Can I touch you?”

“Ohh, yes,” he sighed, leaning back on his elbows; she ran her delicate fingers down over his stomach, her nails trailing over the cut of his hip. She flattened one of her palms and rubbed his pubic area, making him shudder. She ran her fingers through the thick thatch of curls, feeling the heat of his painfully hard cock. Her fingers worked Harry into an intense frenzy and he could no longer stop himself from stroking himself. Hermione licked her lips at the sight of his loss of control; reaching out, she pulled his hand away, wetting her lips before taking his length into her mouth. Harry gave a soft cry, his breath shallow, as he felt his cock hit the back of her throat; he ran a shaking hand through her curls, revealing her face as she moved quickly and rhythmically up and down.

“Oh my…fucking God, Hermione—!” he gasped, his hips spasmodically thrusting up into her mouth.

Hermione gasped and moaned around his cock, the fullness sending tremors of pleasure through her body. She pulled away, gasping frantically, her hand continuing the stimulation her mouth had just been supplying. She looked into Harry’s face, saw the pure bliss there and smiled to herself.

“I want more.” Her voice was low and rough.

“Take it, take all you want,” Harry moaned, his head falling back.

Hermione clambered up onto Harry’s lap; her hand guided his engorged cock and it slid easily inside her wet opening. They were both still for a moment, holding each other tight, shuddering fiercely in each other’s arms. They began to move, Harry thrusting hard up into her; every thrust drew a short, hard gasp from her and her arms encircled Harry’s neck.

“Harry, that’s…perfect,” she panted savagely against his ear, “It’s..incredible, don’t…stop,”

Harry obliged, continuing to thrust up into her even as he lay flat back against the mattress; she was so tight and warm that Harry felt like he could fuck her like this forever. Hermione put her hands against his chest, her body moving like a serpent as she rode him; his cock hit her g-spot with each thrust, making her shudder and shout. She leaned forward, her mouth finding his nipple; his groan of approval encouraged her and she sucked hard as he fucked her. A particularly hard thrust caused her to involuntarily bite down; Harry growled and pounded harder into her, as if in retaliation. A scream ripped itself from her and her body seized up; Harry’s cock slipped out of her and he felt hot fluid shoot out of her onto his pubic hair and stomach.

Hermione pulled herself off of Harry, rolling over onto her back, breathless. He turned his head to gaze at her, his hand once again finding and stroking his cock. He gave her a lopsided, exhausted smile. She smiled back, half-delirious with pleasure.

“More?” he asked.

“Yes, Harry, please,”

Harry rolled onto her, fitting comfortably between her open legs. Hermione sounded like a pleased tiger as Harry filled her up again. Her hands slid up over his shoulders to the nape of his neck and her legs laced themselves around his waist. She closed her eyes, breathing deep the scent of his sweat as the rain continued to pound overhead. Hermione’s back arched up against Harry as he thrust harder into her.

“Harrrryyy…” she moaned, “can you make me come…? Please, make me come.”

“Yes, I can, I will, Hermione, I will…”

Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand, leading it down between their hot bodies, urging her to rub her clit.

“Touch yourself,” Harry encouraged, forcing himself deeper into her.

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from screaming again; pleasure was coiled up inside her like a tight knot and her hips and fingers moved frantically, desperate for the knot to release. She felt Harry shudder as he pulled out and spilled his seed onto her stomach; there was only a moment’s lapse however, before he was back between her legs, three fingers inside her, his mouth pushing her hand aside to suck at her clit, once again. Hermione’s entire body convulsed as her climax crashed through her, jolting her body upright into a sitting position; she ripped hard at Harry’s hair as his name ripped her throat ragged. She stayed curled tight like that, with Harry’s head trapped between her now locked-together legs, pleasure rocking her body for long, intense moments. Finally, she fell limp, releasing Harry and collapsing back into the bed. Slowly their breathing returned to normal; Hermione lazily ran her fingers through Harry’s damp hair as he lay peacefully against her thighs. The rain came down harder against the roof of their tent, lulling them both to sleep.

Rolling thunder roused Harry some time later; his eyes opened slowly and he lifted his head up off of Hermione’s thigh, gradually remembering what had happened just a few hours prior. His face was very close to the triangle of curls between her legs, now matted down from her extreme wetness. Her scent still lingered in his nose and he shivered gently. Pulling himself up, he looked at her sleeping face; her hair spread out beneath her head, a dark pool of curls against the white sheet. Sluggishly, he stretched out beside her, running his finger down the side of her face. She stirred, rolling to her side and nuzzling against him. He watched as her eyes moved beneath their lids before slowly opening; she looked at him through a haze.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hey,”

She smiled softly, her eyes falling back shut as she stretched sensuously; he could hear her back crack satisfyingly as he watched her body bend, her breasts shifting as she moved. She laid her head against his chest, sighing. Harry wondered briefly if eventually they would start to feel guilty or awkward or ashamed; for now though, their tent was still somewhere safe that couldn’t be infiltrated by the real world.

“Harry,”

“Yes?”

“Thank you…you made me feel…absolutely amazing; you were very good.”

Harry flattened his hands against her back, rubbing in soft, circular motions.

“Did you and Ginny have sex before…you know, everything?”

“You don’t know?”

She smiled softly at his teasing.

“We’re close but she doesn’t tell me everything; she has a lot of hang ups about actual intercourse-she’s made promises to her mom about ‘saving herself’ and marriage and so on, as I’m sure you know…so it’s not something that she’d be completely forthright about, even with me. So,” she lifted her head to look into his face, “did you?”

“A few times, yeah,” he confirmed, rubbing sleep out of his eye. “What about you, Hermione? I feel like there’s so much about you that I don’t know, that I’ve never even thought to ask-I want to know now though. Was this your first time?”

Harry felt her grow stiff in his arms and it almost felt as though the room grew colder. He looked down at her as she pulled away from him, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Hermione…?”

“No. It wasn’t.” she said gently, pulling her hair to one side over her shoulder; Harry’s eyes lingered on her exposed shoulder and back for a moment before he sat up as well, “My first time was…a long time ago. With Viktor.”

“Really?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Harry,” she said with more purpose now, turning towards him and taking his hands into hers, “if I tell you things that I’ve never—ever—told anyone before will you promise me to never tell anyone else? Especially Ron?”

Harry was slightly taken aback by her sudden plea and he grasped her hands tightly against him.

“Of course, Hermione. Tell me anything you want.”

Hermione gazed into his eyes, chewing gently at her lower lip. There was a pregnant moment of silence, the only sounds the unending rainfall outside.

“Harry…” she began quietly, pulling her legs up and crossing them Indian style on the mattress, “I have sex…to hurt Ron.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“When I gave it up to Viktor…I didn’t actually want to. He didn’t rape me or anything!” she said quickly at the look of concerned outrage on his face, “What I mean is that, I didn’t do it because I actually wanted to have sex with him; I did it because I was angry at Ron. Remember how we argued after the Yule Ball? After that, I was so frustrated and just furious with him. I wanted to do anything I could to hurt him. So I went to the Durmstrang ship and found Viktor, who was drunk off mulled wine. And I let him fuck me. And it felt good because I knew that if Ron ever found out, it would hurt him more than anything.”

A savage pain glinted in Hermione’s eyes and Harry felt that pain stab his heart; poor Hermione, constantly experiencing so much pain because of Ron’s selfishness, his jealousy, his possessiveness, his outright obliviousness.

“Was that the only time?”

Hermione looked at him through her soft, warm eyes, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

“No.” she whispered, “No, not at all. Do you remember that McLaggen fellow?”

“Like I could forget that idiot. With him too?”

Hermione nodded. Harry was consumed with curiosity now about this dark sexual habit of Hermione’s.

“Go on,” he encouraged, caressing stray tendrils of hair out of her eyes.

“Yes, well…Krum, McLaggen and…Draco Malfoy.”

Harry felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Malfoy?”

“Yes. McLaggen and Malfoy were both last year when Ron was still with Lavender. I hurt so much during that time, Harry…you remember, don’t you? And I just wanted….I wanted to hurt him back. Harry, that’s what I do; when Ron hurts me, all I want to do is make him hurt ten times worse. And I know Ron. I know how jealousy consumes him and how it eats away at him and I know that I can use that to hurt him. Of course, Ron doesn’t know about any of these liaisons. But somehow that makes it feel even better.” Hermione’s voice was gaining speed now; all this had been building up for so long and now it was just tumbling out of her, “I know that if Ron ever hurts me so much that I cannot bear it I can just…tell him. Tell him and break him into pieces. And I know that makes me a horrible person. But Harry, I hurt so much all of the time and I just want to feel like I have some kind of…power.”

“I understand, Hermione…” Harry said, placing his hand against the side of her face, “And I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for not sticking up for you more. For not telling Ron to knock off his bullshit and get his act together and to treat you better. You deserve better than that, from both of us. I’m sorry.”

Hermione’s hand covered Harry’s and she closed her eyes, two tears trickling out from beneath her eyelids.

“Thank you for listening to me, Harry; I can’t tell this to anyone else. And…after tonight, we can’t ever talk about it again, you know that right? But I need this so bad; I want to tell you everything.”

“You can, Hermione. You can trust me.”

They lay back against the mattress again, Harry’s hand resting softly against Hermione’s hip, the other wiping her tears away. She placed her hands open-palmed against his chest; her hands were cold again.

“Aren’t you afraid, Hermione? That someone like Draco Malfoy would use something like that against you?”

Hermione smirked, her eyes staring through him at some vision of the past, probably the very incident they were discussing.

“No. Not at all. Malfoy wouldn’t dare breathe a word of it to anyone,” she focused on Harry’s eyes, “He has his pride and standards, you know.”

“How did it happen?” he pressed.

She smiled again.

“I’m not surprised that you’re so interested in what happened between he and I; I get surprised by it sometimes too when I think about it. But honestly, Harry…how did this happen? As you saw, I can get very…aggressive.” She sighed again, “But Malfoy and I...it was late at night, I was angry and hurting; Malfoy was intensely stressed out as well. I didn’t know why at the time…I ran into him in the corridor where the Room of Requirement is, of course, since that’s where he spent most of that year. Literally ran into him, as in crashed bodily into him. We started to argue, things got heated very quickly and well…it got out of hand. It was just as brutal and cold as you would imagine it to be. A hate-fuck. But…and this is something that I’ve thought about many times since…even though he was completely anger-and-stress-and-hate-fueled Malfoy was the only person that I’ve ever fucked who gave a damn about whether or not I came too. He considered it a…challenge, a great conquest,” she smiled softly, her eyes misting over with something like lust, “Conquering the great Mudblood ice queen. And he made damn sure that I came. Over and over over…”

Her eyes rolled back for a moment and Harry felt a shiver course through her.

“Krum and McLaggen, they didn’t care about that at all; as far as they were concerned I was merely something for them to stick their cocks into, a willing receptacle for their come. Viktor was drunk and clumsy and barely knew his way around the female body other than where to stick his wand. McLaggen, surprisingly, could only be worried about how fast and hard he could get himself off.”

Harry smiled at her sarcasm; hearing her talk so frankly about her sexual exploits is something that normally would make him incredibly uncomfortable. But how could he be uncomfortable about anything after all they had just done? He wanted to hear her whole story now.

“But Malfoy…Malfoy was receptive and reciprocal despite how hard and violent it was; if I said stop, he stopped. If I asked for something, he gave it to me. No one else did anything like that for me. Until tonight.”

“Are you drawing a sexual parallel between Malfoy and me?” Harry murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.

Hermione laughed and pulled herself upright. She stretched, yawning widely. She gazed at Harry for a long moment, gathering her hair up away from her neck and piling it upon her head, fastening it in place with a butterfly clip.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” she muttered, standing stiffly.

Harry stared at her as she stood before him and disappeared into the back of the tent. As he heard the sound of the shower spray, he stood as well, stretching and yawning. He pulled his jeans on, scratching the back of his head as he ambled to the opening of the tent. He stood just outside, stretching for a long moment. The rain had died to a light drizzle but thunder still rumbled in the distance. Harry sighed as he gazed up at the clouded sky, the spitting rain cool against his face. He knew that when he walked back into the tent, it would be over; the protective bubble that had, for a few passionate hours, surrounded their tent was popped. When he reentered things would be as they were and they would never speak of the fire that had blazed to life between them before just as quickly extinguishing itself. It would live on as nothing more than a memory.

Taking a deep breath, he turned slowly, facing the entrance of the tent. He distantly heard the spray of the shower die. He walked through the opening; it swayed gently behind him before he sealed it shut against the chilled evening air.

AN: I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave any criticisms, ideas, flames or general thoughts.
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One Night