60 | Hovering Thoughts

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Warning: Typos and grammatical errors

"Oh, mon dieu!" Safe exclaimed in frustration as she brushed her strawberry-blonde hair out of her face. Fred has clearly been on her mind way too much that she got his knack for not thinking before acting. How ironic.

She had already run far when Safe realized she had left her wand at the Weasley-Granger residence. So with shrunken lungs and wobbly legs, she kept walking down the moonlit street.

As fall nearly reached its end, the strut of winter was beginning to draft through the seams of Safe's coat. Her cheeks stung red from the chilly weather under the bed of hidden stars.

And as she followed the path upward on the northern side of Diagon Alley, her mind projected a series of events that made her heart skip a beat.

Safe begged herself to move on. But the way her heart ached at the sight of Fred's disappointed freckled face, she knew she would forever be stuck in the same spot by subconscious choice.

Nothing pained her most when she realized how irrelevant she was to Fred's plans. His mere dedication to strive for a thriving life was no doubt inspiring. Although, all of it focused on him and him only. None of it ever adhered to Safe's place beside him.

And yet, she remained in love with him, she admits. Safe knew she would always have love to offer to Fred. Over time, she found different words to identify her feelings towards him, which always differ. Love as a foe; love as a friend; love as a brother; love as a boyfriend. However, her heart didn't ache because Fred was disappointed in her. She felt how his eyes did... broken.

Plainly, broken.

It wasn't the feeling of defeat or aching shattered hearts. It was the acceptance that there were things that were fated to be forever broken, no more, no less.

Just like the hope to see the river flow only to find it parched from any signs of water. The patience for the arrival of the fullest moon and being left with sobbing skies and searing cold.

At that moment, as her eyes met his distant earthy ones, Safe knew her love for Fred was more than anything a series of words and numbers could describe. More than what lines and bars could measure.

Because no one could measure what's between the lines. Granted, another set of lines could fill the gaps, but through those, spaces in between infinitely appear.

The acceptance of pain and being thankful for it. No "what ifs" or "rather," only the existence of "what it is."

Safe couldn't accept that.

She couldn't accept defeat. And maybe it was toxic to be that way. To act so distant from Fred and yet refuse to stay away. But what was their connection but poison? A poison they both repeatedly chose to chug. Wincing in pain as the sting of miscommunication and difference slid down their throats. What a pair they are, indeed.

She gave up so many times. When she should've fought for what she wanted. It was time to take everything she had in herself to feel complete again. To stop giving in to worrisome thoughts and hesitating reflexes. With that said, Safe decided that her first step was to tell Fred how ridiculous she had been for avoiding him.

So Safe stood in front of his flat with red cheeks and hot breath. Her hands were shaking from the cold, as she would like to believe. A finger aligned itself in front of the doorbell.

"Safe?" A familiar voice echoed.

She turned to see Lee below the flight of stairs, carrying a bag of what seemed to be a variety of snacks. He greeted her with a smile as he skipped his way up. "I haven't seen you in a while. I thought you were ditching your best woman job," He said in a joking manner.

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