It had been a restless night for Eloise. She didn't even bother trying to keep track of how much sleep she had actually gotten simply because she knew it would only depress her to know. But if she really thought about it, she was almost certain she hadn't slept for more than thirty minutes at a time, at least that's how her body felt. She was tossing and turning for hours, unable to get her mind off the man who had been sleeping just on the other side of the wall, feeling so close and yet so far at the same time.

That is, if he had actually decided to stay through the night.

The thought of him trying to drunkenly take the Floo Network home in the middle of the night or disapparate and inevitably splinch himself hadn't even entered her mind until just now. If she'd been in the right state of mind, she would have taken his wand away from him and hidden the powder away. But to be fair, it was quite the overwhelming night for her.

As she quietly opened the door to her bedroom and glanced over at the couch, she saw George still fast asleep. His long limbs were hanging over the much too small couch haphazardly with Simon curled into a purring ball on his stomach, it was honestly quite an endearing sight.

It was certainly much easier to admire him when he was like this, peacefully dreaming about something probably much more pleasant than what had happened last night or the conversation they'd inevitably have when he woke up. She honestly wasn't even certain that he'd remember coming here at all whenever he did decide to wake up.

Eloise tip-toed across the flat and into the bathroom, searching the medicine cabinet for a vial of clear liquid before returning to the kitchen to heat up the kettle on the stove. Like it was a habit she couldn't shake, every time they talked, they drank tea. The good conversations and the bad always happened over a mug of English black tea. The drink was what brought them together, tore them apart, and mended them again, three sugars and all.

In the midst of her reaching into the cabinet for two mugs, she heard a quiet groan come from the living room. She glanced over her shoulder to see George rubbing his hands over his face before propping himself up his elbows as Simon jumped to the floor.

With furrowed brows, he took in the foreign surroundings before his eyes finally landed on Eloise. Another groan escaped his lips as memories of the night before flashed into his mind. A wave of nausea washed over him as he fell back on the couch, clutching his eyes shut tightly. His hangover mixed with the regret of his drunken decisions combined into a horrible cocktail of anxiety and dejection.

"Good morning." she said kindly as she pulled the kettle away from the heat.

"Morning." he said groggily, his voice still low and raspy from his exhaustion.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like my head's been hit by a Bludger about thirty times." he muttered with a yawn.

Eloise let out a chuckle and carried the vial and a mug of warm tea over to him, "Which would you like first? The hangover cure or the tea?"

"Is that a real question?" he asked as he opened his eyes and reached for the vial.

Reluctantly, George sat up on the couch and tipped his head back, quickly shooting down the liquid. A grimace fell on his face as he took the tea from Eloise's grasp to chase down the bitter flavor.

"Better?"

"Much, thanks Ellie."

A slight smile played at the corner of her lips as she returned to the kitchen to pour her own cup of tea before returning to sit on the plush pink footrest at the end of the sofa, "So, when did that nickname start?"

George shrugged as he took another sip of his tea, "Dunno, just kinda happened I guess. Do you not like it? I can stop."

"No, it's alright." she blushed slightly, looking down at the warm amber liquid in her mug, "No one's ever called me Ellie before, I kind of like it."

"Okay then, Ellie." he smirked.

The two of them sat silently as they enjoyed their tea, but the events of previous night were still looming in the back of Eloise's mind. The fear that George hadn't remembered most of what he said to her felt like a real possibility and if that was the case, she didn't know what she would do. There was no way she could ever forget his drunken confession, no matter how hard she tried. At least not without the help of a memory spell. But even then, she'd never entertain the thought of erasing any memory of George, not even the painful ones.

"So," she started as she idly tapped her nails on the side of her mug, "About last night."

George nodded with a sigh, "I know. I shouldn't have shown up here like that, I'm really sorry."

"When did you start drinking again?" she asked, ignoring his apology.

Eloise had come to know that apologies from George were almost always followed by a retraction of some sort. Her weakened heart simply couldn't bear to hear him take back the words he'd told her only a few hours ago.

His brows furrows before he responded, "Maybe at the end of November. I honestly can't remember, but that was just with friends, it wasn't a big deal then. Last night was the first night in a long time that I actually let it get out of control."

It wasn't until the words left his lips that George seems to put the pieces together in his own mind. The moment he pushed Eloise out of his life was exactly when he started allowing himself to fall back into bad habits slowly, and then all at once. Maybe it was purely a coincidence, or maybe he truly was a better version of himself when she was around.

The thought of being so reliant on her scared him. Losing Fred made him realize he had depended so much on his other half once before, only for him to be torn away from him with no warning. He couldn't do it again.

"Why were you even drinking to begin with? Did something happen?" she asked, her voice coating in worry.

George blinked at her, breaking himself away from his thoughts about his brother before he shook his head, "Doesn't matter, that whole night was a big mistake."

"Right." Eloise muttered as she tore her eyes away from him and settled them on her tea which suddenly looked rather unappetizing.

An awkward silence fell between them for a moment before Eloise cleared her throat and gathered George's empty mug from the table and headed towards the kitchen sink without a word. The silence was looming over them, taunting one of them to speak first, to break down the invisible barriers around them.

Eloise resolved to not be the first to speak, honestly she didn't even know what to say to him. She was almost expecting the next words to come from his lips to be that he shouldn't have told her he still wanted her. Although, expecting it didn't make the inevitable hurt any less.

However, he said nothing. It seemed that George's silence was even more persistent than hers. After setting the ceramic into the basin of the sink, she leaned her hands on the counter and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath as she gathered the courage to truly confront George for what he'd said to her last night.

"Did you mean what you said to me?" she asked, still facing away from him.

"Pardon?"

Eloise spun around to face him, the distance between them thankfully making her feel more safe, because if he were within reach, she was sure she wouldn't be able to hold it together, "All those things you said to me when you were drunk. Were they a lie?"

"I honestly can't remember everything I said to you, Ellie. But what I can remember telling you was the truth."

Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Eloise didn't want to have to relive every single moment of the night just to try and decipher what was the truth and what was an illusion.

"What do you remember about last night?"

George looked off to the side, trying to recall the events in his mind as if he'd find his answer painted on the wall, "I remember telling Verity and Charlie that I was going to spend the night at Lee's, which I didn't. I remember coming here after leaving the pub. I remember kissing you, and telling you that I still want you." he paused for a moment and looked back towards her, "And I remember you telling me that we couldn't do this again."

Eloise nodded and brought her eyes down to her slippered feet, "I meant that. I don't know if I can handle it if you decide you still don't want to be with me after all of this."

"So you still have feelings for me, then? You didn't move on?"

Against all odds, a chuckle left her lips. She thought it had all been so obvious, but maybe he just wanted to actually hear her say it, "That's why things with Maxwell didn't work out."

"What do you mean?"

"On Valentine's Day, he asked me to be his girlfriend and I knew I couldn't say yes because I still have feelings for you."

"That's the night you came into the shop." he said with furrowed brows.

She nodded silently.

"Were you upset because of him or..." he paused, as if he already knew the answer, "or because of me?"

"I was upset with myself."

"I don't understand."

"I was upset because I don't think I'll ever be able to get over you, George. I think it might be impossible. I'll just keep searching for someone who..." she stopped herself before saying too much.

"Someone who what?" he inquired.

The short distance between them suddenly felt like miles, like she wanted to run to him, hoping and praying that he'd catch her and never let her go.

"Someone who even comes close to how I feel about you. I'm not sure that person even exists." she confessed.

Something in George's demeanor seemed to switch at that moment, he was filled with a sudden wave of determination. He'd said nothing else to her and instead was up off the couch and pulling his boots back on before Eloise even knew how to react. After running his hands through his tangled hair, trying in vain to tame his unruly bedhead, he walked up to where she was standing in the kitchen.

"I'm going to fix everything, okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

Instead of answering her question, George placed his hands on the side of her face and tilted her chin up to him, "Can I kiss you?"

"I-" she stammered as she gazed up at him in utter confusion.

"Please?" he asked with a childlike smile.

It was quite unlike George to ask before doing, he was more of a 'seize the moment' kind of man. But he was serious about fixing everything, he wanted to do this right, even if it meant being uncharacteristically cautious and careful. If he had it his way, he would have already kissed her instead of patiently looking into her confused eyes.

"I-, I suppose..." she whispered, although it almost sounded more like a question.

George bent down and placed a quick and much more coordinated kiss on her lips in comparison to the messy one he'd attempted the night before. It was short and sweet and honestly quite soft and delicate for the chaotic man. It was like he wanted to be gentle with her, as if her lips were made of porcelain and her heart made of glass.

He pulled away with a smile, "I need to go take care of something but I promise I'll be back soon, alright?"

"George, slow down. I know I didn't slip any liquid luck into your tea, so what are you up to?"

He let out a laugh and shook his head, "I told you, Ellie. I'm going to fix everything, trust me."

Ignoring her furrowed brows, George leaned forward to plant one more kiss on her lips before pulling away and heading for the door. He paused for a moment as he looked back over his shoulder, "Don't go anywhere, I'll be back soon."

Eloise stood there dumbfounded.

The two of them had barely discussed what happened the night before and George had suddenly decided there was a mission he needed to take care of right that second. They hadn't yet discussed his intentions with Alicia, or if he was even ready for a relationship at all and yet he was already rushing to leave her flat in order to 'fix' something. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

"George, please wait a minute. Can we just talk?" Eloise pleaded as she took a step towards the door.

"Can't love, already wasted too much time. We'll talk when I get back." he said with a wave before leaving her flat.

At this point, Eloise was absolutely certain he'd gone completely mad. She ran out into the hallway, still donned in her pajamas to try and call him back.

"George!" she yelled down the stairs.

"Stay put, I'll be back!" he called to her before she heard to door of the building slam shut.

It felt like centuries passed as Eloise waited for George's return. She'd showered, made her bed, cleaned the kitchen twice, did hers and Verity's laundry and still there was no sign of his return.

When a knock finally came to the door, Eloise practically leapt up off the couch and ran to it. For fear of look too eager, she came to a sudden stop and slowly counted to ten inside her mind before reaching for the handle. With a bright smile on her face, she finally opened the door.

But her expression fell into a frown when the face she was met with wasn't George, but Maxwell instead.

"Oh, hello." she said with a polite indifference.

"Hey, I just wanted to come by and drop this off." he started as he held up a well loved book.

Eloise took the book from his hand, recognizing it as her copy of Sense and Sensibility that she'd had since she was a teenager. Of course she could have easily bought herself a brand new copy, but this one had been annotated over and over again through the years as she circled her favorite lines and highlighted quotes that resonated with her. In all the drama of their falling out, Eloise had completely forgotten she'd left it at his flat. Despite how things ended with Maxwell, she did really appreciate him still caring enough to stop by and return it to her.

"Thank you." she said as she ran her fingers over the tattered cloth cover.

"It's no problem. I uh, I also wanted to apologize."

Eloise shook her head as she gazed up at him, "You don't have to."

"No, I do. I think part of me knew ever since we went to George's shop that you still had feelings for him but I was in denial about it. I let my jealousy cloud my judgement more times than I'm proud of and... I guess I really just want to say that I hope he can make you as happy as you deserve to be."

A lump formed in her throat as she gazed at him. Everything between her and Maxwell had fallen apart because of a man who had rushed out of her flat hours ago and had yet to return as promised. She couldn't help but think; was it worth it?

"Thank you, Maxwell. I really appreciate that."

"Don't worry about it. And if you're ever in the neighborhood, I'm always willing to give you new book recommendations."

Eloise let out a light hearted laugh, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Well, I suppose I better get going. I'm actually on my lunch break right now. Don't want to leave Stella alone to fend for herself behind the counter for too long." he said with a chuckle as he took a step back from her doorway.

Eloise moved forward to catch Maxwell in a brief and polite hug, one last goodbye, "Bye, Max."

He hesitated for a moment before patting her back slightly, almost impersonally. It really was a final farewell, there was nothing left between them.

"Bye, Eloise."

Unbeknownst to either of them, a man clutching tightly to a now useless feeling bouquet of lilies had witnessed the end of their brief interaction from the stairs. Like watching a trainwreck, George simply couldn't tear his eyes away from the two of them as they embraced before he quickly reminded himself he'd be seen if he didn't make some sort of get away soon.

The man felt foolish, reckless even. Although he didn't need to be reminded that he'd been far too impulsive his whole life, but especially more so over the last few years. He was already well aware.

Still, he couldn't help but regret not discussing things more with Eloise before he'd left her flat this morning. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, but the way Eloise and Maxwell looked so friendly with one another didn't seem very 'over' to him.

If he'd known there was anything left between them, he wouldn't have rushed to Alicia to cut things off with her that morning. The whole ordeal took much longer than he'd wanted it to, ending in a screaming match that paralleled the one he'd had with her in April of 1998 far too much for his liking.

But it had to be done. Regardless of what became of him and Eloise, his friendship with Alicia was doomed from the start. They were dragging each other down, preventing either of them from ever truly healing from the trauma their final year together had brought them. But maybe he wouldn't have been so blunt with her if he realized things between him and the girl with golden hair and eyes like the summer sky weren't guaranteed.

He'd gone all in too quickly, gambled away everything on a fleeting moment of hope that he'd chased with no back up plan or reinforcements. It was decided, he needed to leave.

George quickly spun on his heel and trudged back down the stairs and out the door before Eloise or Maxwell had even noticed him at all. Once he stepped foot onto Diagon Alley, he ran into Verity who'd finally decided to head home from his and Charlie's flat.

"George? What are you doing here?"

"Here, take these. They'll just end up in the rubbish otherwise." he muttered as she thrust the bouquet into her hands and quickly brushed past her without another word.

Her eyes flicked between the flowers and the back of his head as confusion filled her brain. What the bloody hell was that about? She thought to herself as she shook her head and made her way into the building.

As soon as she stepped foot into the foyer she caught Maxwell's eye as he descended the stairs and puzzle pieces slowly started to fit together in her mind.

"Hey, Verity."

"Hello." she replied, although her inflection almost came out as a question as she gazed at the tall man.

"I just came to drop off something Eloise left at my flat, I promise you won't see much of me unless you're in the market for a book. In which case, I'll be right down the road." he said kindly.

Verity gave him a half-hearted chuckle, "Alright then."

Once Maxwell had finally left, Verity quickly climbed the steps leading to her flat. It felt like she was so deeply out of the loop. She'd spent only one night away and suddenly George was leaving their flat bitterly while Maxwell seemed as chipper as ever.

Verity pulled her wand from her bun and unlocked the door to her flat. When she stepped inside, a content looking Eloise was skimming through the book Maxwell had just returned to her. At the sound of the door latching, Eloise brought her eyes up to Verity.

"Oh, those flowers are lovely! Did Charlie get them for you?"

Thinking quick on her feet, Verity decided to go with that story in order to cover for George, "Oh yeah, you know Charlie! He's a romantic guy but just can't seem to remember that flowers make me sneeze like a mad woman!"

Eloise's brows furrowed slightly at Verity's somewhat forceful delivery, but she decided to brush it off, "So, your anniversary was good then?"

"It was lovely," she started as she waved her wand to summon a vase before filling it with water for the flowers, "I'm curious what you got up to though, were you bored without me?"

"Oh yes, terribly bored. Until about one in the morning." she laughed.

"Oh?" Verity asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you believe me if I told you George showed up here in the middle of the night, drunk as a skunk, telling me he still has feelings for me?"

Verity's eyes were as big as saucers, although that would certainly explain his demeanor when she ran into him outside. Knowing George, he took one look at Maxwell and created the most absurd scenario in his head, looking for any reason or excuse at all that could justify his belief that he and Eloise would never work out.

"Well, what did you say?"

"I made him sleep on the couch and wait until the morning for us to talk."

"And did you?"

"Briefly," she nodded, "Until he left in a rush saying he needed to take care of something. He told me he'd come back but it's been hours and he hasn't yet, so I really don't know what's going on."

Verity glanced at the vase of flowers in her hands before setting it on the coffee table. As much as she really didn't want to get involved in her and George's relationship for fear of it falling apart again, she knew that she needed to get them to at least talk this out before either of their assumptions drove them apart.

"Why don't you go see him then?" she asked casually.

"I dunno, Ver. He told me to stay put, I'm probably just being impatient."

Verity pressed her lips together tightly, trying to decide what the best course of action would be. The way she saw it, there were two options. One, tell Eloise everything she had been able to piece together and risk upsetting her. Or two, continue keeping it vague and urge her perhaps a bit more forcefully to go to him and risk confusing her, which would inevitably cause her to resort to option one in the end regardless of her tact.

"I think you should go see him." Verity said as more of an order and less as a suggestion.

Eloise narrowed her eyes at her roommate, "Have you spoken to him today?

"I wouldn't say that, no. He said words to me, but we didn't really talk." she said vaguely.

"Okay? What did he say to you?"

Her eyes fell on the bouquet as she chewed on her bottom lip before looking back at Eloise, "He was bringing you those."

"What?" Eloise followed Verity's eyes to the white lilies between them, "What are you talking about?"

Verity let out a sigh, "I ran into him outside and he handed me those and left in a huff, then I ran into Maxwell on the stairs. It doesn't take a genius to put it together, he saw you with Max and left."

Eloise's brows knit together into a frown as she shook her head, "But nothing even happened with Maxwell. He apologized, gave me my book, and we hugged goodbye."

"This is George we're talking about, Eloise. The king of assumptions. I really think you should go talk to him."

"I think if he wanted to speak with me, he would have stayed instead of getting jealous and jumping to conclusions." Eloise grumbled as she rolled her eyes.

"If you let him assume something is going on with you and Max, it's just going to make things worse. I really think you two should talk." Verity urged.

Eloise sighed, "Maybe I'll go see him after work tomorrow but for now I think I want to go see Fleur and Victoire. I can't stand just sitting here any longer."

In her hurry to leave the spot she was in, the spot she'd waited so patiently for George, she sat her book down on the coffee table. It remained open on the table, almost as if the old and tattered spine couldn't stay shut after years of being turned to the same page again and again.

The words within it were messily underlined and circled, cursive notes written in French decorated the margins of nearly every page. A reminder of the teenage girl who read the words within over and over, reveling in the tragedy and hopefulness that came from falling in love, hoping that one day she too would find her own love story.

"I come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is and always will be...yours."

But now the words seemed much less romantic, every revelation within the pages paralleled a love she desperately wanted but couldn't have. Slowly her own romantic sensibilities seemed to become much more logical, if not a bit cynical.

As Verity watched Eloise grab her bag and head towards the fireplace, she was filled with guilt and regret. This is exactly why she didn't want to get involved with her and George again. Both of them were far too stubborn and prideful to simply set their own assumptions aside and talk to one another. Miscommunication was in their blood and their relationship truly had no hope if they could never get past that obstacle.