𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 | g. w

13. ily

Just say it. There's nothing more to it. Just go up to him and tell him how you feel.

I'm standing outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, contemplating my own life choices. For some reason, I woke up from going to bed earlier tonight and decided that I needed to go see George. I don't know what came over me or prompted me to come here, all I know is it's now or never.

"Password?", the Fat Lady asks me, noticeably angry that I woke her from her slumber.

Since I'm best friends with three Gryffindors and tend to hang around with them here anyways, I was given the password fairly early on, and I'm given the updated ones whenever it changes.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia".

The door swings open and I find that my heart has started beating extra fast within the safety of my chest. I head inside, making sure not to bother any students that might still be up, but I notice that everyone's cleared out and that the common room is completely empty.

"Okay", I whisper to myself. "Come on, you can do this."

I head up the stairs to the boys dormitories, the pace of my heartbeat quickening to a point where I don't know if I'm going to be able to even get out a coherent sentence due to nervousness. I shake whatever feelings of possible bad outcomes I have and raise my knuckle to knock on the door to the boys room.

I can't do it, I think to myself, all the while cursing my own fear and indecisiveness. Before I have the chance to run back down the stairs and back to my own house's dorm, I hear the door swing open behind me. Shit, I think, praying to Rowena that it's anyone but George standing in that doorway just now.

"Mia?"

Of course. Who else would it be?

"Hi...", I say quietly.

"What are you doing here?", he asks and I can't help but admire his ruffled hair, tired but still so god damn beautiful eyes, and cute striped pyjama pants.

Then I notice.

He's not wearing a shirt.

"Me? Oh-I-I'm just-I mean—I wanted to—" I stutter incoherently, watching his face twist into a snarky grin.

I'm melting through the earth, watching his eyes dance across my face as he waits for me to answer.

"Well?"

I sigh deeply. "I don't know why I came here", I mutter before turning around to head back downstairs. Before I have the chance to do so however, I feel him grab my wrist, prompting me to turn back around and look at him.

"Mia—wait", he says. "I missed you."

I know he's being serious, because he's no longer smiling, instead he's looking rather much like a sad puppy, his eyes silently begging me to stay. Of course—seeing as I'd do just about anything for this boy, even jump off a cliff if he told me to—I can't bring myself to walk away. Instead, I find myself bravely taking a hold of his hand, stroking my thumb across the still viable scar he got from serving detention with Dumbbitch.

"Let's stay up and talk, yeah? There's so much to say." I smile gently.

I just want to be near him, I find myself thinking. I've missed him. It's like I can't breathe properly without him around.

He nods and brings me into the room. At first, I'm not so sure this is a good idea. "What if we wake the others up?". But then I realise I can't say not to a chance at cuddling in bed with my best friend.

"It's okay. They all tend to sleep rather heavily, and Fred snores so we'll notice if he wakes up."

"Okay", I smile, getting under the duvet with him.

His body is warm, the heat radiating off of him tickling my skin. I would stay right here forever if I could.

(...)

We stay in bed for what must be hours, just talking. I tell him of my dads obsession with The Quibbler and Xenophilius Lovegood and I don't hesitate to explain to him how much I've missed having him around.

"It's not been the same without you. I miss my best friend", I mutter, a silent tear leaving my eye. George takes notice of this and wipes it away with his finger, his gentle touch sending sparks through my entire body. Oh how I wish he'd put his hands all over me.

Even though I still have my doubts about wether or not George loves me the way I love him, I can't help but feel like I don't care about my own thoughts anymore. I've stopped cursing myself whenever I so much as think about his skin, his hands, his eyes, his hair, his scent. I no longer feel like I have to push those feelings aside, at least not when it comes to myself. Because I know I love him, and know I'll never stop.

In contrast, I realise I'm too much of a coward to tell him about it. I know he's with Angelina, and I don't want to ruin that if she is what makes him happy. He's my best friend, and I would never be able to forgive myself if I become the cause of his heartbreak.

You see how conflicted I feel?

"I love you Georgie", I whisper before feeling my heavy eyelids close and I drift off to sleep. Before I do so however, I hear him mutter back an "I love you too".

It hurts. If hurts like hell knowing that when I say it, it means something entirely different.