Secrets Only Trouble Knows - George Weasley

58 - Mine

Nova's POV

Slowly being pulled from deep sleep by light behind my eyelids, I woke to the sunrise streaming in through the windows. Slightly disoriented, I was confused when I felt my head slowly rise and fall but soon realized I was still laying on George's chest. He had an arm wrapped around my back, holding me against his body tightly like he was afraid I'd leave.

Careful not to wake him, I shifted positions just enough so I could look up at his still-sleeping figure. I simply stared at him for a moment, a small lazy smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I admired him. His pink lips (the bottom one still split) were just barely parted as he breathed in slow, soft breaths, and every once in awhile his eyelashes would gently flutter against his cheek. He looked incredibly adorable, peaceful.

The light was streaming right into George's eyes and I was amazed it wasn't bothering him, but I was glad it wasn't. The bright, rising sun's orange glow made his hair—which was a bit messy and sticking up in places—appear more red than ever. The rays of light also allowed me to appreciate the hundreds of tiny freckles that littered his soft pale skin. My stomach fluttered at the sight as I imagined kissing every one of them until I made him giggle and blush underneath my touch.

My smile fell a little bit, though, when I noticed the bruises—a testament to last night—still scattered along his jaw and near his mouth. My gaze followed his outstretched right arm until I found his hand, seeing his knuckles looking about the same as they did. He'd broken the skin around them punching Conor, and if he didn't have Madam Pomfrey fully fix him up, he was likely to have a few small scars from his troubles.

What I loved more than anything about George was how passionate he was for the things he cared about. I loved how those closest to him in his life were the only things that truly mattered to him, and how he'd do anything to keep them safe and happy.

But I hated how his desire to protect me, to keep me safe and happy, always ended up with him looking the way he does before me right now— all bruised and cut up. I'm grateful he knows how to pull his weight in a fight so he hasn't been injured any worse than that, but still. I worry about him. I don't like seeing him hurt at all because of me.

I must've let out a sigh from my wandering thoughts that was a little too loud because George's eyebrows knitted together and he stirred a bit. In a moment's notice his eyelids were fluttering open, his warm brown eyes meeting mine. He gave me a small smile and his arm tightened its hold around me, bringing me even closer into his chest.

"'Morning," he said quietly as to not wake the others, but his voice was deep from just having woken up and it made my stomach flip.

"Morning," I mumbled back, leaning up and pecking his lips.

"Since when are you awake before me?" George asked with a teasing grin, rubbing the sleep from his eyes in the process.

"I dunno," I replied bashfully, "maybe since I realized you're nice to look at when you're sleeping..."

"Mmm," he hummed, chest rumbling underneath mine as he chuckled. "You are too, you know."

I blushed and began drawing absentminded circles on his chest with my finger. He brought a hand down to my head, letting his fingers run gently through my messy curls.

"'M thinking I go back to my dorm and change," I spoke up softly, "and then we meet up again to talk in a half hour?"

"Works for me." he answered sleepily. I nodded, kissing him softly again before I pulled away from him and sat up in the bed.

Stretching some, I stood to my feet and collected my dress and shoes I'd left on the floor last night. I then silently tip-toed around the room towards the door, passing by Jasper's bed and tucking the covers up around him in the process.