𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 | g. w

48. friends... sort of

It was a strange feeling, being back in George Weasley's good graces. It left a peculiar sort of feeling at the pit of my stomach, one that was near impossible to determine the precise cause of. Sure, I'd already identified the main reason for my being so nauseatingly cheery as of late, and it had all but nothing to do with the fact that George was finally speaking to me again. But it had to have been more than just that. I felt almost... giddy, a feeling so foreign to me, particularly as of the last few months, and it made me all the more hopeful for the future.

If it wasn't for the fact that I was still so infatuated with him; I would have easily accepted  the title of our new relationship.

Friends.

The word left a strange taste in my mouth.

I'd spent so much time pining after him and wondering if I'd ever get the nerve to tell him of my feelings that I'd completely neglected to savour the feeling of just being his friend. His best friend at that. Although there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to him to be more than so, I'd forgotten that I would have much rather been his friend than nothing at all, and when that possibility was pushed at the forefront of my mind, I got so scared that I tried pushing him away instead.

And now...

Well, let's just say I have much higher hopes of the two of us getting back together than I did just a few days ago.

That's not to say that George has completely forgotten my past transgressions, in fact, he's been doing my head in with all of his excessive moping around.

I recognise that a lot of time has passed and that a lot has happened in the time that we have been apart. We have both grown as people, we have both had to learn to live without the other. So naturally, it will take some time to go back to the way things used to be, if it's even possible to do so.

Still, hope is not lost on me. I have my sight
set on winning him over again.

Only question is, how exactly would I go about doing that?

(...)

"I love you."

Well, this was not the plan I had originally set out to follow.

In fact, I have no idea why the confession leaves my mouth at such a terrible time, and just as the words roll off my tongue—I realise just how stupid of an action it really is.

Hell, I might as well just roll with it.

"I love you, George Fabian Weasley. I've loved you since the moment we met aboard that stupid train, and I will continue to love you until the world itself ceases to exist. I don't care how long it's been and I don't give a damn about how complicated my feelings may seem to you, because I will never stop trying to get you to see the reality of what is. You and I, George, we are meant to be together. I know you think so too."

Just roll with it. I mean, what's the worst thing that could happen?

There's a momentary silence, the sort of quiet tension you could cut with a blade. I hold my breath for just a few seconds, and yet it feels like an eternity has passed. He looks at me and despite the depth of his eyes, I can't for the life of me decipher what he's thinking in this very moment. The cadence of his voice reveals little, if anything when he speaks, until the words finally register in my mind.

"Well, then stop loving me. You are only making it harder on yourself." He breathes a sigh. "We agreed to be friends, and that's all I can give you right now."

'Right now'? So that must mean there's still a chance, however small, of the two of us ending up together.

"George—"

"—You know, the fact that I'm even sat here speaking to you right now proves just how far I'm willing to go to forgive you."

I nod.

"You've made a huge mistake."

"I know—"

"—and I'm willing to put that aside for a chance to start over with you."

"I know that too."

"So why are you pushing this? I love you, and I know that you love me too. But it's going to take more than a few words for me to start trusting you again, Mia. The quicker you realise it, the better."

I try to prevent it from happening but no matter how hard I try, the tears start to fall anyways. My heart seems to break every once in a while only to be put back together the next second, and I feel like I have no control over the feelings I'm having.

You've made your bed, now go lie in it.

I know in my heart that this, whatever is happening between us, is no one else's fault but my own.

I was the one who left.

I abandoned my family.

I broke their trust.

I broke his heart.

And so, I am the one who has to make up for it in some way.

"I'm sorry", I cry, my face in my hands and my breathing uneven. Crying feels inevitable these days, and I've done so more times that I can count. All because I went and fell in love with my best friend.

All because I ruined the best thing that's ever happened to me.

"You keep saying that, and I want to believe you, but you have to understand something. You didn't just take my heart with you when you left, you incinerated it into a million tiny pieces, and I'm trying to put them all back together. But it's going to take some time until it's fully healed."

Sobbing, I find it difficult to speak. " I understand", I finally manage to croak out, not really trusting my voice not to break completely.

It's not until he takes me in his arms, pressing my head against his chest, that I allow myself to fall apart completely.