He hadn't expected, when he'd suggested they have a cup of tea together, that he would find himself at her home, on her couch and with her practically in his lap. It was not how his teas usually resolved themselves. He could see his way to doing it more often, though - the way she was suddenly pressed against him, fingers in his hair, interrupted his breathing for a few happily stunned seconds. He drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the kiss, then, letting his other hand rest on her waist before falling to her hip to tug her just a little closer.
Most of his most recent attachments had been with women he'd met while working in the hostels he'd spent a few years at after graduating. That had been quiet some time ago, of course, but they came through London often enough - some that he'd never really got to know, some that he had, almost all Muggles. It was different; it wasn't as easy to be ... comfortable, with them. He could never quite be truthful. With her, though ... it was better than comfortable, it was more than exciting, and something about her made him less timid, somehow. It was hard to feel too shy in the face of all she brought.
He began to wind his arm around her waist. She was incredibly warm, he thought, and there was no reason she shouldn't be closer.