The Interviewer • A George Weasley Fanfic

About Last Night

JULY 1st - 7:03 A.M.

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When something's happened late at night, right before you had planned to go to bed and stay asleep until the morning when you would wake up and go about your day without another thought, that usually does not happen.

Usually, you lie awake, and you think about it, and your stomach churns and your head is spinning and you try to close your eyes but all your thoughts are far too loud and bright to allow such a thing.

Then, your night consists of tossing and turning, until the sun comes up and there are bags under your eyes but for some reason, you still don't feel tired.

Because you're still thinking about what happened. And this makes you awake as ever.

Jane didn't know what to do about this.

In fact, she didn't know what to do at all.

She didn't even have the stomach to eat a bowl of cereal.

Instead, she was pacing her apartment as the morning sun shone through the window that looked out into the slowly wakening city of London.

Her mind was trying to process all that had happened the night before.

Her pulling George into her apartment.

George desperately undoing her blouse.

Jane gasping when he kissed her neck.

George moaning in her ear when she pressed her hips against his.

Shaking her head repeatedly, she tried to throw all the thoughts away, but they were like barnacles; they wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried.

Worst of all, the main reason why her head felt like it was draining into her feet was that she had to see George that day.

The day after they kissed. A lot.

And if it weren't for the phone ringing, who knows how far they would have gone?

She knew she couldn't avoid finishing the interview for two reasons that practically taunted her as she anxiously paced her apartment in her flannel pants and cropped tee:

One: part of why she hadn't finished the current chapter she was drafting for her book was because some of the information relied on answers for questions she had written for George.

Questions that he hadn't answered before because they got distracted. Exactly like what Ron said. 

She, unfortunately, miserably, needed those answers.

And two: Fred was at the flat with George.

If she didn't show up for the interview, he would know something was up. This was far too risky because George and Jane had already been acting tense the night before and she was paranoid any of them took notice.

"No, no, no..." Jane groaned, hanging her head back at the very thought.

What did George think of last night?

No. It didn't matter. She wouldn't say a single word. Not a word.

She would walk in, get the answers she needed from him because he would cooperate with her, and she would leave. That's all. Get her work done and get out without a word about the night before.

Because if she relived the night before, bringing it up to George, she would live out her fear of falling into this trap of obsession and lust and love after the boy she was afraid of loving.