Mistletoe

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Her lips are soft and wet. Her nose bumps Hermione’s and her teeth scrape. Her breath is warm when their lips part, and Hermione is too stunned to speak. She nervously licks her lips and becomes aware of the hand on her hip and the other on the nape of her neck.

Fingers lazily play with her hair and she wonders why she hasn’t stepped back yet. She can hear carols being sung in the distance but is focused on the soft sounds of Luna’s breath and her own heartbeat. She looks up at the mistletoe and then back down at Luna. She’s confused but it’s a nice confusion, one she wants to explore. She smiles as she leans forward and gently brushes her lips against Luna’s.