Morning Love. (George Weasley)

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Arabella's POV

The rest of Christmas day was lovely. We had an amazing dinner prepped and cooked by Molly, filling us all up to the brim. We then spent most of the evening trying out our new gifts and taking turns on the karaoke machine- even Arthur and Molly had a go.

Many songs and hot chocolates later, everyone became rather tired, all of us cuddled up with one another on the sofa whilst quiet Christmas music played in the background.

I had my head laid in George's lap, cuddled into him as he threading his fingers through my hair. Fred sat at the other end of the sofa, his head rested against the cushions and his eyes shut.

"Come on then children, it seems everyone is dozing off." Molly cooed with a warm smile, planting a kiss of Ginny's head, who had been resting on her mother's shoulder.

Everyone mumbled lazily in response, slowly rising from their comfortable positions and saying good night before heading off upstairs. I offered to stay downstairs with Molly to help her clear things away and tidy up before bed, which she graciously accepted.

We cleaned and put away the mugs as well as fluffing up the sofa cushions and putting the blankets back where they came from. I was finishing off clearing the coffee table when Molly walked over behind me.

"Once that's done I think that's everything, so I'm going to head off to bed dear. Good night." She smiled, placing a comforting hand on my arm.

"Good night Molly, thank you for a wonderful Christmas." I replied, returning a smile as she pottered off up the stairs.

I grabbed the final bit of rubbish from the now clean table and stepped into the kitchen to place it in the bin. When I came to the sink to wash my hands, I noticed a figure outside as I looked through the window.

I squinted, soon realising that the tall man was in fact George, his hand shoved in his coat pocket and the other holding a cigarette to this lips and he stared off into the greenery behind the house.

My brows furrowed at this sight. The twins and I never really smoked all that often, we much preferred weed to cigarettes. However, I knew George only really smoked when he was stressed, and I began to worry that he had something on his mind.

I headed over to the back door, slipping my shoes on before stepping out into the cold night. The ice cold air caused me to suck in a sharp breath, wrapping my cardigan tight around my body as the breeze nipped at my exposed skin.

It was rather dark outside, the only sources of light being the large moon and the light from inside peaking out of the window. George hadn't seemed to notice my presence, and I shuffled closer to stand beside him, shivering as I went.

Once I was stood by his side, he glanced down at me, remaining silent but acknowledging my presence. I looked up at him for a moment, watching his lips as he breathed in the cigarette smoke before gently blowing it out.

I turned back to look at the moon. "You're smoking," I spoke, half a statement and half questioning.

"Yeah," he took another drag, "Do you want one?"

I nodded. In all honesty, I didn't really feel the want to smoke, I just knew he had something on his mind for him to resort to a cigarette. I suppose I just didn't want him smoking alone.

He reached in his back pocket, pulling out a cigarette and turning to me to place it into my mouth. I parted my lips, allowing him to stick it in between them. He looked into my eyes once more, before leaning down and bringing his own lit cigarette to mine. I sucked in, allowing his own cig to light mine.