"Please," he said, and his voice was gravely and strained and his eyes burnt on her, and Hermione felt a warm shiver trickle into her core. She slipped into bed next to him, her hand folding on top of his, rubbing over his knuckles one by one with her thumb until his hand relaxed slightly. Draco let go of the sheet and hooked his arm around Hermione so that she snuggled into him on her side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. She curled her arm around his middle and sighed with utterly selfish contentment at the feel of his warm, naked torso, and the way his fingers brushed idle and light over her forearm. It had been too long since they'd had even this small degree of peace between them.