LETTERS HOME [C.W.]

XII

Leia sat down in front of her mirror. She had her dress on yet there was still a few left before she went on the date. She stared at herself in the mirror, suddenly feeling insecure.

It wasn't the dress, she felt like an actual deity with the dress. It was her face. She had redone her makeup about 10 times, and nothing felt right. Too red, too bright, too everything. She ended up with a simple liner look, and a bit of red gloss. She wasn't sure if they were going to kiss, but just in case she didn't put on actual lipstick.

Charlie on the other hand had been so nervous about the date that he had made a stop in the twins' flat, where the two of them thought he needed some liquid courage. The first two shots were taken willingly, but after the fourth Charlie had forgotten all about the suit in his bag.

Leia had taken the long way to Mayfair, took a couple of pictures with a couple young fans as she didn't have the heart to decline them and then arrived to the restaurant a little bit early.

She sat down at the bar and asked for a vodka with soda on the rocks and silently sipped, waiting for the clock to strike 9 pm. When it did so, seeing as Charlie was for sure late, she asked to be sat down.

"I think the name is Weasley, reservation for two?"

"You are the first to be here, I'll sit you down."

The table was nice, it was in the end of the restaurant to avoid paps and fans, and she asked for a menu, just to cover her face. She had a bad feeling, that only intensified as the first 10 minutes passed and she sent the first of five texts to Charlie.

We're still on for tonight, right? I'm already here :)

She looked through the menu, that way when the waiter came back, she'd know what she wanted.

"Do you want to order something to drink while you wait?"

"A glass of white wine, please. Thank you so much."

"Not a problem, Ms. Fisher, coming right up!"

And she has been spotted. The fucking waiter know who she is. And it has been 20 minutes more and there is no one with her, no answer from him either.

Charlie? It's been 30 minutes and I've been spotted. Are you coming?

And still, no fucking answer. She was going to give him the benefit of the doubt. She asked the waiter for some bread and butter just to eat something while she waited. She didn't want to feel embarrased just yet.

I hope you have a good reason for being 50 minutes late.

She could feel the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. A whole hour and two glasses of wine later she was asking for the bill utterly humiliated. The look of pity in the waiters eye's was enough for her to know this would be on the tabloids the next morning.

An hour is up, I'm going home. Thanks for nothing, Charlie.

She walked outside, ready to plaster a fake smile on her face. And cry when she got to the flat. Two weeks talking about the fucking date and now? Nothing. Zero. He had stood her up, in a public place, and now her crying face would be all over the damn gossip magazines.

As soon as she got home, she kicked the heels off and crying, she got some ice cream off the freezer and a spoon and a bottle of wine, ready to pop Love Actually and curse at everyone.

But before she had one last message for Charlie.

I hope you're happy. I don't know why would you even ask me on a date just to stand me up. It's a shame, really. I really like you, still. You made me feel normal, but I guess it was just a game to you. You can come by, I'll leave your shirt by the door so you can pick it up. I hope whatever you had to do went well. Maybe we should stop seeing each other.

"Georgie can you get Charlie's phone? It's been buzzing for an hour and the poor sod is still passed out on the couch. Maybe it's something important?"

When Fred figured out how to work the damn thing, he went pale. White as a sheet, he lowered the phone and looked at George.

"We fucked up. Like royally."

"What? Why?"

"He came in here for courage and he had a date. With like a really pretty girl, way out of his league."

"Then why didn't he go?"

"I don't know, I think it has something to do with the fact that he is passed out on our couch, because we got him drunk."

"Fuck was she famous or something?"

"Wait until mum finds out, we'll never hear the end of this."

The next morning, Leia made her way to Moony's for a new book, her eyes behind some glasses and a cap so no one approached her.

As she had predicted, she was all over the tabloids. Hell, even some fucking reporter had managed to sneak in the restaurant and had a close up of her crying. The world had seen her heart break and Charlie had yet to respond to her messages.

"What's with the long face, dear?" Said Remus hugging the girl, who almost started crying again.

"Give me the sappiest, saddest love novel you own. Something that will hurt me."

"That's an odd request. What's wrong?"

"Haven't you read any magazine at all this morning? My crying face is all over it. Like, close up shot and everything."

"Why?"

"Dear ole Charlie Weasley asked me on a date and then proceeded to stand me up in a busy restaurant in Mayfair."

"That doesn't sound like Charlie at all."

"Yeah I thought so too. But he hasn't answered my texts either so cheers. I'm barricading myself in my flat with a book and ice cream. Until the world forgets about this."

"Here, I think this will do the job. But I'm still speaking to Molly about this. I'm sorry sweetheart. Would you like to come to mine for dinner? I can invite James and Sirius too, they won't say no."

"Actually, I'd quite like that. Thank you Moony."