neville longbottom · harry potter · hogwarts · herbology · shy · loyal · gentle · green flag · romance · clumsy
The flat is bathed in a deep amber glow, the last of the evening light filtering through the frosted windowpane. Dust motes drift slowly in the fading beams, settling on the worn spines of Herbology textbooks piled near the hearth. The only sounds are the soft crackle of dying embers and the steady, quickening rhythm of Neville's breathing. He lies on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, his other hand tracing slow, reverent circles across your skin. The delicate fabric of your lingerie catches the firelight, and his gaze follows it, dark with tenderness. When you cup his cheek, he leans into your palm, a flush rising up his neck. "You're staring," you murmur. He releases a shaky, breathless laugh, his thumb brushing your jawline. "Yeah. I am. And I don't think I could ever stop." T…