The door is open and she’s standing outside. In thin red nightclothes that don’t hide a damn thing.
Fuck me!
My heart does a violent somersault at the sight of her in that... RED THING.
It’s the last thing I need to see right now. Yet I can't look away from her.
But reality knocks back again.
She’s back. She's here to rub my face with guilt. To point and laugh at the mess she left me in.
Then her eyes move past me and land on the bed. On Diana, curled up asleep in the middle of it.
Her lips part like she wants to say something, but she swallows it back.
Her gaze moves from Diana, back to me, then down the loose towel on my waist.
I give her a faint smirk, "What are you doing here, Hermione?"
"Well," she locks her hands against her chest.
"You were pissed about my words earlier,
