Rebuilt | f.weasley

18

Three Days Until Christmas

When you say your watching someone sleep it usually came across as strange and weird.

But when your intentions are good i struggle to see the ugly side of the matter.

When your sleeping your minds usually at peace.

Your worries aren't yet appearing.

Sadness hasn't entered you yet.

'In dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own'

That's something i remember hearing from the former Hogwarts headteacher.

He was an idol for harry and many others at the school and will be as they remember and respect his memory.

But to others he could be seen as rather controversial.

He was a great man, he said great things, he did remarkable things with his life.

However some say theirs a dark side under the glorified mask we all see.

Anyway, that's a topic for another time.

I was studying every freckle, scar, mark and shadow displayed on freds face.

It seemed as though he was created by the very hands of an artist.

A work of art

To be honest i did wonder about many things in life.

Constantly thinking of unanswerable questions that stumbled nearly everyone to walk this planet.

But how fred Weasley was so desirably perfect was definitely the one i pondered on the most.

His toned chest slowly moved up and down at a rhythm as i lay beside him on my stomach, holding my head up with my hand.

He let out a soft sighing noise whenever he took a breath, it was quiet but one of the things i remember most about him.

As his eyelashes fluttered open, he arched his back slightly, subconsciously running his fingers through his hair before wrapping it around to me, weaving under my bare chest and pulling me closer to him.

A laugh escaped my lips as he rolled me across his chest and over to the other side so i was facing him, pressing his hand to the back of my head and pushing my face into the crook of his neck.

With his other hand he ran it up my thighs and onto my back, going up to my shoulders before back the other way.

'Good morning' i smile into him, enjoying the familiar touchiness he had throughout the day.

'Morning my darling' he replied in a deep and raspy voice, still obviously not fully awake yet.

'Fred' i laugh, not being able to move much from how tight he was holding me.

'Mhm' he responded, still cradling my bare skin.

'I cant breathe'

'That's too bad' he replied, and although i couldn't see his face, i could hear the smirk that had formed.

'Hold on a minute' he remarks, sitting up slightly and rubbing his eyes.

I rolled onto my back, a sense of emptiness now that my body wasn't entwined with his.

His brows were turned downwards as he held a dazed expression on his face, looking as if he was calculating an algebraic equation in his head.

'You good?' i ask cautiously, stretching my back out as i lay on the crisp white sheets.