It had taken awhile, but Neville had finally found the perfect shade. He’d known as soon as he’d seen them in the display at the florist shop, recognizing the color instantly. Hermione wasn’t the type for flowers and candy. She wasn’t a romantic and tended to think such gestures were silly and unnecessary. However, Neville was a romantic and he liked silly and unnecessary gestures when it came to the woman he loved.
She always muttered about sappy displays they’d witness or remark on preferring to get a good used book to a bunch of candy or flowers that wouldn’t last. She was just too logical to accept that sometimes you just needed to do something foolish to celebrate your feelings for someone. Over the last eighteen months, since their friendship had drifted into casual dating and finally become a Relationship complete with unbelievable sex and a shared flat, she’d had to accept that Neville liked to surprise her with small things at times.
There were sometimes flowers for no reason. On a few occasions, he’d bought tickets to a concert or play he knew she might enjoy. There were surprise picnics, candlelight meals beneath the moonlit sky during summer, and her favorite candies left on her bedside table at various times. Neville had always been a romantic, inheriting that from his mum according to Gran, but he’d never had anyone before to show that side to. Hermione might mutter about not liking that nonsense, but he had noticed she smiled when he surprised her and that she didn’t seem to mind nearly so much as she might claim.
Today was the anniversary of them moving in together, an event she probably didn’t even remember but one of many dates that Neville knew well. His memory wasn’t that great about most things, but he could recall important dates and random things with little effort. She’d forgotten Valentine’s Day, their first they celebrated together, but she had remembered his birthday and the anniversary of their first real date.
After he bought the roses, he Disapparated back to their flat and went to work. By the time dinner was over and the bottle of wine half empty, Neville showed Hermione why he’d chosen that particular shade of flower. She was flushed, her nude body shifting on their bed, and he couldn’t remember ever seeing anything quite as beautiful. She watched him with curious eyes as he ran his finger over the rose petals and pulled one free.
When he brushed the petal against her skin, she bit her lip and pushed her unruly hair away from her pretty face. Neville smiled as he dragged the petal up her leg and across her belly. He reached her breasts and left the petal there, covering her hard nipple with the soft flower. He removed another petal and traced a similar path up to her other breast. He moved slowly, making sure he had her attention, and watched her face as his fingertips made contact with her bare skin.
By the time he spread her legs and rolled between them, pressing his erection against the mattress as he inhaled the scent of her arousal, she was flushed and there was a sheen of sweat on her body. The petals covered her breasts, rising and lowering with each breath she took, and were scattered over her belly and collarbone. Three stems were lying on the floor beside the bed from where he had plucked the petals off.
He didn’t ask if she’d figured out why he’d chosen that shade yet. Instead, he urged her legs further apart and dragged a fresh rose along the lips of her cunt. He listened to her gasp and smiled as he teased her with the soft petals. It didn’t take many lazy swipes of the flower against her before she whimpered his name. Neville pressed the rose against her, the wet petals clinging to her lips, and whispered to her, telling her how beautiful she was, telling her how she made him feel, telling her how much he loved her, and telling her how it made him feel to have her love.
He watched her writhe on the bed, most of the petals sticking to her sweaty body as a few slid off her, and he groaned when he saw that he’d been right. The shade was perfect. Flushed pink and pale, it matched the color of skin when she was aroused near perfectly. Neville let the rose go and lowered his head, licking and sucking until she fell apart for him.
Hermione urged him up the bed and kissed him as he slid into her, the petals sticking to his body as he began to move. Her legs wrapped around him and she rocked against him, her blunt fingernails lightly scratching his back as she kissed him. Neville smiled and kissed her neck when she moaned against his ear and admitted that she enjoyed his romantic side.
The End