She drapes her arms over his shoulders, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of his neck. Harry shivers and tilts into it. He lifts his own hands to let them rest on her hips before he can think too much about it. He realises he's been looking at her mouth for longer than is probably appropriate. He can see the faded line where some of her dark, mulberry coloured lipstick has worn off, replaced with the telltale stain of red wine. He looks up to meet her eyes again, heavy lidded but sharp, and sees where the silver glitter on her eyelids has migrated to her cheekbones.  You're so beautiful. 