Waldosia/// George Weasley

Chapter 19

Clover stared up at the boy from her position on the floor. He was pacing again, the early morning moonlight seeping through the window and setting all his panicked features alight while doing so. He was so beautiful, her tired mind admitted. So beautiful and sad.

His inner cheek was stuck in between his teeth as his brown eyes met her, the chaos inside of them a little more wild than usual. He stopped in his place and stared at her. For a moment, the chaos was relaxed, softened. But not even a second later, it returned even worse than before.

"You just had to go out and do this, did you?!"

His voice was loud and echoing in the small flat, anger laced within it. She watched as his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. Memories from earlier in the night flooded her mostly sobered brain as she realized he was talking to her.

"I...what?" The grogginess of the morning caused her to hesitate in processing his words.

"You," he shouted again, his hand ripping through his hair, "You just had to go out and kiss other blokes.This...This is your fault. She's gone because of you!"

The words smacked her in the face. Whatever small trace of alcohol that was left in her body allowed the vulnerability from earlier to slip out again. Her face fell into a saddened frown and her eyes caught of a glimpse of her shirt that was still on the floor. She immediately winced at her stupidity, but remembered who she was and narrowed her eyes up at George. She couldn't let anyone in, even if her façade was cracked last night.

"I can kiss whoever the bloody fuck I want to, George Weasley," she stood up and crossed her arms over her chest.

He took a step closer to her and seethed, "Then go find someone else to look after you."

"I never asked you to look after me," she challenged back, both their stares cold and angry, "I can take care of myself."

He rolled his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. Words were falling out of his mouth without even processing them. He was so scared, terrified of the effects tonight could have. His breath was coming out in short huffs and his mind was racing. It was like his life was imploding right in his own hands. Fred wouldn't have let this happen...Fred wouldn't have done this to Angelina...Fred wouldn't have let her slip though his hands...she's gone...he's gone...Freddie...

Anger at himself poured out onto the girl in front of him without realizing, "Clearly you can't. That boy would have had his hands down your pants faster than his tongue was down your throat if I hadn't stopped him."

"That's rich coming from the boy whose moans were the first thing I heard when I woke up," a knowing, threatening expression had fallen on her face. He took it too far, and she wasn't afraid of following him. "At least have the fucking decency to use a Muffliato spell."

George's face flushed, not knowing she had heard him and Angelina. For some reason, everything inside of him felt wrong. She wasn't supposed to hear that, those weren't for her. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with even more thoughts in his head. Thoughts of Angelina's body underneath his, thoughts of Clover hearing every sound that left their mouths, thoughts of the meaningless and lustful noises he let out with Angelina. But ever-so-slightly his mind let one last thought that sent his anxiety into overdrive; The noises he would have made for Clover would've been so much more.

He took a sharp step back from the blonde girl, suddenly needing more air in between him and her. George couldn't take it anymore, he needed an escape from his own head. The thoughts of Clover were too overwhelming, the thoughts of Fred were too overwhelming, the thoughts of Angelina leaving were too overwhelming. His eyes flickered over to the locked bedroom that he hadn't been in for over a year, and his mind went back to Fred as it always did. Fred wouldn't have let Angelina slip out of his fingers...