Work Text:
The soft, dull sound of the brushstrokes marking the canvas was the only thing that could be heard in their blissfully messy sunroom apart from the chirp of the morning birds and the rustle of the leaves from the trees outside their house.
She loved to see him like that - with pursed lips, taut shoulders and a crease in his brow denouncing his utmost concentration. His grey eyes studied her figure intently, carefully considering how to perfectly recreate the scene that he was observing right in front of him (she knew how much of a perfectionist he could be at times like these). Hermione wondered what exactly he was thinking about at that moment, looking at her like that.
“Stop moving so much, love,” Draco called out for her, averting his gaze momentarily to mix in more of his oil paints. “You’re distracting enough as is!”
“Sorry,” she laughed at the artist’s scowl, doing her best to return to her original pose, but she must have moved something that she shouldn’t have, because the blond felt the need to get up from his seat to adjust the jewelry hanging from her neck, around her wrists and fingers, as well as some of the silken sheets that were draped in the chaise she was lying on.
Deciding to tease him just a little (it wasn’t her fault if posing for paintings could be so boring at times), Hermione stretched out and yawned, very much like a lazy cat, and then straightened her back, pushing her arms back and chest forward.
“Cheeky witch,” Draco chuckled, rolling his eyes at her playfulness.
“You knew that when you married me,” she quipped back, enjoying the way her husband's eyes had darkened suddenly, and were now unable to leave her naked body.
He leaned forward again, to arrange some of the flowers that adorned the background and the floor and she took the opportunity to close the gap between them and press her lips against his, placing her delicate hand in his strong jaw. To her delight, Draco groaned, moving his hands to bury them in her hair with the intention to deepen the kiss, but Hermione pulled back and stopped their kiss with a smirk, undeterred by his whines. “Careful with the hair! It took me hours to tame it!”
“You’re a very cruel woman, Mrs. Malfoy.”
“Think about the composition, Mr. Malfoy!” She laughed back, gently pushing him back and lying back down in the divan, making sure to land in a more comfortable position than earlier, with her long legs resting in one of the cushions.
“I expect to be rewarded for all this teasing, you know?”
“You will, I’m sure of it,” Hermione responded with a grin, briefly closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of the sunlight and the return of melodic sounds of his brushes working on the paint.
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“I’m done! You can wake up now” she heard him suddenly exclaim with a triumphant smile, waking her from the sleep she hadn’t even realized she had fallen into.
“Oh! Finished the piece already? That was quick,” she joked, knowing full well that Draco had spent twice the amount of time trying to perfect that particular painting - he had been working on it for weeks now, and Hermione was truly surprised that her husband had at last applied the final brushstroke.
Yawning and rubbing her eyes to chase away any of the lingering drowsiness from her body, she continued, “May I see it?”
“Come here,” he beckoned, taking the large canvas and slowly turning it to reveal the final product.
It was an undeniable masterpiece.
She looked like an ethereal spirit of the forest - surrounded by petals and flowers, nested in between silken sheets and marble statues, with large trees and greenery in the background, evoking the idea of wilderness and a tinge of mystery.
Her tanned naked skin caught in the warm morning sunlight seemed to glow on its own, with her hair sprawled out like a beautiful halo. She was wearing her favourite rings bracelets, and the golden and pearl necklaces strategically placed in front of her chest - covering enough for it to be elegant, but leaving very little to the imagination.
“More beautiful than Venus herself,” Draco breathed in a low voice from behind her, snaking his arms to grasp her waist and pulling her closer to his chest. "You're my most perfect muse, love."
Merlin, a decade of marriage and he could still make her flush like a teenager.
“It truly is beautiful,” she admitted, with awe in her voice. Still deeply enthralled by the masterful way her husband had layered all of the paint, bringing out details of her physique that she hadn’t even paid attention before - the freckles in the bridge of her nose, the definition of her collarbones, the streaks of gold that adorned her hair when it was under the sunlight.
“I should display it in the living room,” he mused, almost to himself. Surely his analytical eye was already trying to find the most suitable placement to highlight his most prideful work and bring the whole scenery together. “Maybe on top of the fireplace, directly across my office.”
“Hang it in the living room?” She laughed at her husband’s idea, peering at her surely scandalous image - the painted version of her briefly opened her eyes, waking from her slumber to stare back at the two viewers and smirk at them, knowing full well how enthralling she looked. “What will our friends say when they visit us?”
"You’re right," he pursed his lips, coupled with a frown, immediately disliking his own idea after she pointed out that detail. "Wouldn’t want anyone else looking at you like that. This painting is only for my eyes to see”
“Possessive, aren’t we?”
“You knew that when you married me,” he whispered in a low tone by her ear, making her shiver in delight.
“Now, witch,” he turned back to look at her with a devious smirk in his lips, darkened eyes and dilated pupils. “I believe I was promised a reward for all the teasing earlier.”
Hermione smiled back at him, her breathing growing shallower as her heartbeats grew quicker in anticipation. His hands moved up from her waist to caress the underside of her breasts. She grasped the pearl necklace, ready to remove it, but he placed a hand in her wrist stopping her with a look in his grey eyes that desired her as she was - naked but covered in gold, silver and pearls.
She held her breath in anticipation, mirroring his teasing smirk and letting herself be carried by him back to the petal-covered chaise. She knew she was in for a fun Sunday morning when she felt his hands move all over her body.
After all, her husband was a man of many talents - and being a painter was merely one of them.