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Ron was not the most openly romantic person. He did not tell Hermione he loved her every single minute of every single day, or mentioned how much he loved how she looked. She was well aware that he loved her, but he showed it in different ways.
It was the way they fought over silly things. Like if they should sleep with the window closed or open, or if they should use magic for household chores –which Hermione still believes should be done the “Muggle” way– or if they should take the car or Apparate. On the last one Hermione was sure that Apparating would be the most efficient and quick way of getting anywhere (she never learned how to drive). And no matter what, Ron teased her and had more fun making her mad than actually winning their fight. He would say that making her angry was their form of foreplay, which always left her blushing.
It was the way that he approached her from behind when she was leaning on the kitchen counter, he would hold her hips, and kiss her neck, before resting his head on her shoulder. He would rub his hands over her body, not even approaching her breasts or her ass, he would reverently caress her stomach, and touch his nose to her neck as he inhaled her scent. He would give her a kiss on the cheek, or on her lips and just detach himself.
It was the way that they would read together on the couch. Her legs would be over his lap, and with a free hand he would rub her thighs. It didn’t matter if she was wearing a dress, a skirt or just normal trousers. He would never go as far as to start something. He would rub gentle circles on the naked skin of her ankles. Hermione would have liked to think it just tickled, but it did more than that.
It was the way she would come back from work, and her feet would kill her. She felt like she could collapse the second she went inside their home. Ron had dinner ready, he was the better cook. Well, she couldn’t really cook even if she tried, which annoyed her. Ron would ask her how her day was, take off her heels, and rub her feet. If she really needed to rest, he would bring their dinner back to the couch.
It was the way she watched him come back from work. He would take off his auror robes, and boots. He did not work in the field nowadays, but he tried his best to still be active. He was the Head of the Strategic Planning Department and would roll up his sleeves to continue on some unfinished raid or perfect whatever plan they were going to go on. He would order take-out and they would dine on the couch. She never ate the crusts on pizzas, and she could never finish her chicken makhni. He would always mention how in the hell she could survive with so little food in her stomach, but he would grab the leftovers and eat them.
It was the way that he would wait for her to finish work. He would stand outside her office, ready to take her coat, and would kiss her right outside it. He would not snog her in public, it seemed that the idea just didn’t sit right with him after his relationship with Lavender. But he would hold out his hand for her to take it, and would rub his thumb over the back of her hand.
It was the way he would hold her. Whenever she was sick, she would be annoyed at everything. She was not able to go to work, or even get out of bed, because Ron would forbid her from doing so. Despite her protests, he would stay beside her, hugging her and rubbing her arms when she’d felt cold, and made sure she ate all the soup he had prepared for her. He didn’t kiss her on the lips, and would say he didn’t want her “cooties” jokingly. He would kiss her on her temple to make her feel better. And would read her a book to get her to sleep.
It was the way he would act whenever he got drunk. Ron was not the biggest drinker, but on the occasion that Harry, him and the rest of the aurors would go out and celebrate he would let himself have fun. He would get home, and hug her while inhaling the scent of her hair. He would snog the daylights out of her without even passing his hands on her body. She knew he wanted to, the evidence pressing right against her stomach through both of their clothes.
It was the way he would act whenever he felt jealous. He would be standoffish, and made sure to keep her as close to himself as possible. He would rub the small of her back, and grip her hand. He would give her kisses on her temple, more than usual. He would lay his claim on her. And she liked it. She almost thought about him leaving a love bite on her neck or snogging her to make sure that the message was clear.
It was in the way he made love to her. Always reverently, admiring her body as if she were a goddess. Despite this, he would play her like a fiddle. He knew every single one of her triggers, he knew how to get her mad, so of course he knew how to make her feel especially good. His mouth was magnificent, and he always used it to his and her pleasure. He would grab her breasts like she had wanted him to when he would lean on her in the kitchen. His tongue made sure to not miss any crevice despite how shy she had felt when he had first done it. He would kiss her ankles when he had them near his face, and the tip of her toes. His body would absolutely possess hers. And pulling her hair, biting her breasts, pinching her nipples, and leaving love bites where no one else but them would see them were more for her both of them.
So Ron did not tell her he loved her every single minute of the day. He did not bring her flowers on random days or chocolates that she knew he would also indulge in, but that was fine. And it was fine because that was not how Ron Weasley loved. And Hermione loved how Ron Weasley loved her.