sapphire || fred weasley

fifty-six

Triggering content, viewer discretion advised.

There is an immense difference when it comes to grieving and mourning.

Grieving, is set deep within one's skin and bones.

The feeling of loss and despair. Sadness and irrevocable anger.

Feelings.

Feelings are grief.

Mourning on the other hand, involved finding a way to cope with grief.

While grieving, Fred would have resorted to various methods that would help numb his mind as much as humanly possible.

Alcohol made his mind stop overthinking. It made the filter that held his tongue back unleash, desperate to be free like a caged animal.

Weed made him stop thinking altogether.

It got rid of everything that was constantly in his mind. The anger, the rage. The sadness and emptiness. They were all gone when he was high. It felt as if his mind drifted away from his body. Letting his chest be relived from the pressure pressed upon it.

The downside was that it all came back like a tsunami when he sobered up the following day.

Cigarettes, he used more in the self-destructive aspect of mourning. He was prone to it. He couldn't help it.

The guilt ate him alive. It always did.

It reminded him of everything that he could have done differently. Everything he could have said and everything he wished he could take back.

Lee. Percy. Molly.

Beatrice.

Cigarettes contaminated his lungs like poison. He knew it well and he enjoyed it nonetheless.

Cigarettes were the sweet punishment he found rather pleasurable. The way smoke would fill up his lungs and airways. Slowly polluting the tissue built inside and around his lungs.

The adrenaline of knowing that one cigarette could be contributing to his possible premature death.

A deadly escape.

However, that was how mourning was like for him, before Juliet came into the picture.

Barely five days had gone by since Juliet arrived. Along with the news of Beatrice's murder.

Fate had made the blue-eyed baby girl the messenger of Death. It had been beyond cruel.

Even with only two weeks out of the womb, life chose to be vile and punishing to an absolute angel.

Everyone surrounding her only agreed to it. It was an unfair and spiteful upbringing to a sweet and innocent creature who didn't deserve none of it.

Life decided to lay out its cruelest cards the moment she was conceived. Just like it did to her mother.

Fred couldn't possibly blame her.

She didn't ask for it. Just like Beatrice hadn't done it either.

*****

All in all, Fred was struggling.

He had locked Juliet and himself in what used to be his and Beatrice's room. Attempting to the best of his ability to come to terms with what had happened to Beatrice, along with figuring out how to begin to take care of the daughter he didn't know he had until she was delivered to his door.