CELLOPHANE- Ginny Weasley

chapter three: grief doesn't look the same.

"So how long has it been since you've gone to work?" Ginny asks Danica, as they both sit with their coffees. Danica's is plain, black. She had long since been accustomed to the bitterness, especially now that she couldn't have cream without leaving her apartment. Ginny's was a sweet mess of a coffee. Filled with caramel and syrup and lots and lots of milk, Danica wasn't even sure Ginny would be able to taste the coffee. However, not wanting to seem rude, she refrained from any comment.

"I really couldn't say. Three months maybe? Or, maybe it was four? How long has it been since the funeral again? I-I, I think it's been four months. Yeah, four months." Danica winces internally. Four months, fuck. She manages to feel worse about herself immediately. "What about you? How long have you been back?"

Ginny looks at Danica pitifully. Her stomach drops. "I went back a couple of weeks after Fred's funeral."

"Oh." Says Danica, and Ginny is immediately on the offence. It seems as though Danica had hit a soft spot without meaning to, and Ginny is quick to snap back. 

"Well, it's not like we could afford to take more time, you know. Two weeks was all I was given." Ginny's lips are pursed now, and Danica doesn't know how she went wrong so soon after leaving her apartment. She can picture herself back at home now, drowning her sorrows in alcohol and feeling the familiar burn of the scalding water of the bath. 

Danica retreats into herself, as she looks at Ginny and mumbles out a small sorry.

There's an awkward pause; a moment where Ginny looks as though she feels bad for Danica, and in which Danica wants to find the words to tell Ginny she hadn't meant it like that, and that her work had probably hired someone else in her place by now. However, the moment is soon over and the planes of Ginny's face harden once again, and Danica is so deep in her own mind she cannot seem to say anything that would close the gaping chasm forming between the two girls. 

"I have to go, get back to my work." Ginny spits out the words rather venomously, but Danica understands. She would always understand. "It was... nice, seeing you. Maybe I'll see you again." Her tone of voice implies that she truly hopes she never sees Danica again in her lifetime, and she can't fault her for it. Danica had never truly been the best of company, and yet Ginny had offered to sit with her and talk, and Danica had managed to fuck it up almost immediately. She was already hiding, trying not to explode and tell Ginny that she can't leave her house without seeing Thomas in everything. That she doesn't know what she can and can't say because she hasn't talked to anyone in months, and has forgotten how to socialize. She can't tell Ginny that she reminds her so much of her brother it hurts. So she stays quiet and retreats as Ginny leaves the table, hostilely.

"It was nice seeing you too." Danica is looking at the window now, where she can see herself and Thomas, always there, his hand steadily placed on her shoulder. She barely registers the cold as Ginny opens the door, or the scoff that leaves her mouth. 

Danica doesn't realize she'd done something wrong until much later, when she's drunk off her ass, the only time when her mind clears up enough. So, she does the first thing that comes to mind. She calls Ginny.

Hi Ginny, it's Danica..... Danica Finch. It's pretty late right now so I understand that you're probably asleep, and won't pick up the phone. She sighs heavily. 

I just wanted to tell you I was sorry for how I acted earlier. I know that I came off like a dick in the coffee place, and even though I am kind of a dick I'm not that big of a dick. So, I just wanted to say that I was sorry.... you know? A deep breath from Danica.

These days, it's so hard to find someone who doesn't hate me. I can tell they all blame me for it, you know? His death. He was always such a perfect twin, and I was always always the fuck up. My parents haven't talked to me since the funeral, did you know that? You probably didn't, but now you do. I wish that Thomas was here to comfort me. He always held me when I cried, he actually always knew when I was crying. He was my other half, I guess. Fucking twin magic. Danica takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey. She wipes her mouth messily. 

When he died he took a piece of my fucking soul. Which sounds more poetic than it actually is. I mean, you know how it feels to lose someone. A brother, someone you love. Loved. God, this is messy of me, isn't it? I.... I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be calling, especially because I pissed you off at the shop. Which I am very sorry about. I haven't called my work since I left, so...... I'm pretty sure I'm jobless right now. A humourless chuckle leaves her mouth. Jolly fucking good. 

Anyways, I guess I was calling because I feel like shit, and I'm sorry. So fucking sorry for everything. Another pause.

This is Danica Finch calling by the way. I don't know if I remembered to say that or not. The whiskey and meds mess with my memory a lot. Sorry, that was oversharing again. I'm going to end this message. Goodbye. You probably hate me now, too. I'll add you to the list. Bye, Ginny. Once again, I'm sorry. Really really really sorry.

The silence of the dial tone after Danica ends the call seems louder than bombs. So Danica goes to her bathroom, fills up the tub with scalding water and sits, waiting for something. Anything.