No Tricks (George Weasley x OC)

Chapter 5

Once again facing the door of Olive Tree Art & Tattoos, George leaned against the wall as he knocked above the window. He had guessed Oli's silhouette sitting by the desk downstairs, so there was no need to ring the bell. He was proven right when a dark haired figure stood from behind the table to welcome him inside.

She had a kind smile, eyes crinkling as he entered.

"How was your lunch?" she wondered, closing the door behind him.

George sighed but nodded nonetheless: "Good! Most of the family came, so we were pretty crammed, but it was fun."

Oli motioned vaguely to the couch and lifted her shoulders.

"Can I offer you something?"

"If you have anything to accompany this," George said as he showed off the wine but did not sit, "it would be lovely."

Oli reached for the bottle to check its label. A french white. George had never heard the name of the domain before receiving this gift, but at least he knew what a chardonnay was.

"Perhaps some ice cream?" he suggested hesitantly.

Smirking, Oli looked up at him and let go of the bottle.

"I should have some."

She led the way up the stairs and George followed suit. As they walked, he could not help but steal a glance at her hands, now that he knew what those markings were. He realized the illustrations were buildings, finely etched into her skin, and he longed to hold her hands in his to observe them better.

Taken aback by his own thoughts, George paused as he reached the top floor closely behind Oli. Surely his ears were turning red, weren't they? He swore he could feel the heat rise up his neck.

Suddenly shy, George stayed by the stairs, uncomfortably looking around. He was in Oli's bedroom, a double bed pushed against a wall with a nightstand next to it, and a cabinet filled with electronics in front of it. Across the room was a window that offered him a view of his own apartment above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, accompanied by a small table and a chair. Oli disappeared into a room on the left, which he guessed to be the kitchen, as he remembered seeing her there from across the street. There was another door to the right, behind him, that most likely led to a bathroom or closet.

"Aha!"

Oli emerged from the kitchen triumphantly, holding a tub of vanilla ice cream.

"I found some!"

She quickly glanced at the room, clothes piled on the bed.

"I'm sorry about the mess. Do you wanna go back downstairs?"

Yes.

"No, it's fine." Nodding to the small table by the window, George wondered: "Shall we?"

Oli smiled and approved of the suggestion.

"There's an extra chair in the closet. Can you grab it while I get the glasses?" she asked, pointing to the door behind George.

As she disappeared back into the kitchen, George cursed under his breath. He swallowed and shuffled over to the table, putting the bottle down in a hurry.

The walls were white and largely undecorated, unlike downstairs. Only a few paintings and photographs were spread, representing nature or people. Undoubtedly landscapes and loved ones from back in Belgium.

Opening the closet door, he was grateful to find the chair easily, placed against the back wall behind half a dozen pairs of shoes and some coats.

Crossing the room again, he carefully moved the table and the already laid out chair further from the wall, so as to install the second one in front of it. Just as he sat down, Oli came back holding a small tray on which rested two bowls with spoons stuck in them, and two wine glasses. She carefully put the board down before pulling out a corkscrew from her back pocket.