"I would love to hear that story," Hermione said with a smile, "but I'd like you to take off your shirt even more." She tugged at his jumper, mussing his hair as she pulled it over his head, and he tossed it aside, pausing briefly to pick up his wand from the floor and place it on the bedside table before his long fingers made quick work of the buttons down his front. He shrugged off the shirt and Hermione's hands moved of their own accord, mapping out the smooth planes of lightly-defined muscle over his chest and shoulders. A long, thick scar ran diagonally down his chest as well, in nearly the same position as her own, but she didn't have to ask where it came from. "You're beautiful too," she murmured, arching her back to bring herself closer to him, and he leaned back down to reconnect their lips. 