Don't fall in love with me- Fred weasley

12

Fred had always paced when he was nervous. He's always moving. Bouncing his leg. Fiddling with his hands. He's a constant bundle of energy and nerves only ever seemed to heighten them.

The opposite of George. George goes still when he's nervous. He sits completely still with a blank face, but there's this look in his eyes, this look that screams his anxiety.

In that moment I'm glad Fred paces. It gives me something to watch. I like to have things to distract me when I'm nervous. Things to focus on until the anxiety calms.

"I'm worried about us," he admits, he's still moving and I'm still watching.

"Why?"

"You're only off with me. You have been normal with everyone else,"

"I'm not off with you," I lie. His jaw tenses immediately.

"Please don't lie to me right now Em. I'm nervous enough about us without having you lie to me," his voice is desperate and his hands are shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry. I don't want you to stress. I guess I have been a little weird with you. But it's nothing you've done, it'll pass," I admit, standing up to face him but he doesn't stop pacing.

"So, what is it?" He questions

"I don't know. I just- I can't explain it. I need some space is all,"

"I push too hard. I know I do. I'm not stupid asking you to do all of this. Asking you to lie to our families and our friends. I push too hard. Over Christmas break I know I did. I was unfair to you. What I said and what I did on-"

"No. Fred I swear. Christmas has nothing to do with-" I begin. It was true. What happened outside on Christmas Day made my heart beat too quick and it made my palms sweat. It was a memory I wanted untarnished.

"No. No I lead you on! I've been going crazy over it. Then you suddenly need distance, obviously it's because of that. I mean I nearly kissed you twice! I said so much and-" he's rambling but I'm struggling to keep up.

"Lead me on? You- you didn't-"

"I didn't mean too. I just- I got caught up in all of this. In how happy my parents were with my choice. In how welcoming our families are. In how much fun we had. In the Christmas spirit. We were sleeping in the same bed and it was all just- I was confused and I got swept up in all of it," he continues.

The memory feels black and rotten now. It wasn't real.

"It's not about that. It's- look- do you have feelings for Romilda Vane?" I question. He stops dead then. Stops still. The jealousy is burning a pit in my stomach.

"I- she's pretty and she's kind. I don't know. I just- look I don't want to end all of this over her. She's just a- well a time killer I guess. No that's sounds bad and came out all wrong I just mean that-well-"

"I get it," I nod. Unable to push the happy feeling away.

"I know that I push too hard," he repeats

"You don't. It's you. Nothing you could ask would be too much. You could never push too hard," I assure. He seems to calm down a little at this. Sitting at the edge of my bed, though his leg still bounces, and pulling my arm to make me sit down next to him.

"I know it's selfish," he admits, his body tense and rigid. "What's wrong with Romilda though? Me flirting with her. You know I would never do anything more than just flirt. I mean I know it's all fake but I would never cheat or anything. Nothing that would embarrass you or any of that," he assures. Sighing contently when I rest my head on his shoulder.

I don't know how to say I know that. I don't know how to say he's wrong and the reason I care is that I have fallen in love so badly that it hurts, feels like I can't breathe, to even think about him and Romilda talking to each other.

"I know you wouldn't. I know," I assure. His hand grabs mine and clutches it. "But isn't she the point. Not her exactly, I mean it was Angie at first, but to get the girls attention-"

"Yes. Yes it was. The thing is I like this. I like being able to hold you. I like walking you to class. I like getting to kiss your cheek and head. I like getting to have my hands on your thigh at dinner. I like you cuddling into me on the sofa. I like that everyone thinks of us as each-other's. I like the look on all the boys faces when I parade you around the corridors. I like getting to look at you all the time and make sure you're okay and no one being able to question it. And when I throw all of that away, I want it to be for someone half as good. But, if you want an out-"

"No. No I like it too," I insist, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

"So we keep faking it?" He questions, smiling when I nod, my head falling back to his shoulder.