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content warning:
sexual themes
| as always, nothing graphic |
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"Mind if I interrupt?"

A voice came from the doorway of Fleur's kitchen and Eloise's heart sank.

George always came after her when she was upset but this time she almost wished he hadn't. Even the thought of looking into the warm hazel eyes of a man who still felt as though he'd never really be hers felt like something she couldn't endure.

"Go right ahead, I need to get back and make sure everything is going well anyway." the woman who had almost unwillingly taken on the role of both bridesmaid and wedding planner replied.

Eloise cursed at Fleur in her mind as the woman abandoned her at the table. How dare she leave them alone in a situation like this? Of course they had to talk things out, but she had just been presented with the most impossible question to answer only five minutes before he arrived. How was she meant to talk this out with him when she wasn't even sure where to begin?

Her eyes remained locked on her clasped hands as Fleur left the room. George quickly took his place across from Eloise, his presence in the room feeling suffocating to her almost immediately.

"I shouldn't have said that, Ellie. At least not in that way, so I'm sorry." he said after a moment of silence.

A lengthy pause fell between them.

There were so many things Eloise wanted to say to him, to ask him. It was perfectly clear what he meant, regardless of how he worded it. She couldn't think of a way his deep desire to be alone forever could have hurt her any less. On top of all of that, she was quickly growing tired of how frequently he apologized and how little he had changed.

"But you meant it." she finally replied.

"Well yeah, but I could have phrased it much better - explained myself a bit."

"What other way is there to say you don't see a future with me?" she asked coldly.

"That's not it, it's not you that's the problem. It's all in my messed up head."

"How cliché." she muttered, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

George's jaw clenched slightly before he looked away from her, but not from anger. It seemed as though he was simply feeling the same way she did. Eye contact felt impossible. Especially when a painful truth was looming between them. So instead, he brought his attention out the window, observing the reception taking place from afar. Noting how everyone seemed much happier than them in that moment.

"Why don't we just go home?" he suggested.

A frown formed on Eloise's face as her eyes followed the line of his gaze. Going home so early felt like a waste, the night had only just begun. Yet, she had to admit she wasn't in much of a celebratory mood anymore.

"Fine."

Without speaking another word to each other, they took the Floo Network back to Eloise's flat. She quickly stepped out of the fireplace once the green flames dissipated and dropped her clutch on the coffee table on the way to her room. George, however, remained in the hearth, unsure of whether she even wanted him there at all.

"Do you want me to stay the night?"

"Do you want to?" she asked pointedly, pausing at her bedroom door and looking over her shoulder at him.

"'Course I do."

Eloise hesitated, almost as if she didn't believe him before she turned over her shoulder once more and stepped into her room, "If you're going to stay, at least help me get out of this dress."

George left the fireplace, ignoring Simon's inquiring meows as he entered Eloise's room. As she heard his footsteps approaching, she pulled her curls over her shoulder to give him access to the zipper of her gown. His fingers grasped it lightly and he pulled it down, slowly revealing the constellations of freckles on her bare skin. His touch lingered for just a second longer before he took a step away.

"Thank you." she said in a near whisper.

As Eloise walked to her dresser, looking for something much more comfortable to sleep in, George undid his tie. His eyes remained on her as he undressed. With each button of his shirt that came undone, it was like he could see the stress in Eloise's eyes grow more and more apparent. Before his shirt was even off, she forcefully shut the drawer of her dresser and looked at him.

He froze, gazing at her with wide eyes as his fingers paused on the last button.

"Do you really want to be here? Honestly."

"What? Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

She parted her lips to reply, but quickly abandoned the notion as she shook her head and turned away, "Never mind."

"Talk to me, Ellie." he urged, knowing full well the conversation likely wouldn't be pleasant.

Silence loomed in the room and George dropped his hands, instead placing them in his pockets as he gazed at the side of Eloise face. She refused to look at him, to even entertain the idea of a fleeting glance. Her eyebrows furrowed as she fell deep in thought. All the while, George stood there patiently - albeit a bit nervous.

"I'm scared that all of this is a waste of time. That-," she paused, trying to find the words to articulate her fears, "That what we have is temporary. That you don't... care for me like I care for you."

His face fell, "Of course I care about you."

Against all odds, a chuckle escaped from her lips, "You don't get it."

"Then explain it to me."

"I..." she began before realizing she was mere seconds away from confessing something she believed would truly cause him to run away for good.

Another pause. The air felt thick with tension. There was a silent war taking place between them. A war between their affection for one another and a truth they were so desperate to deny.

Finally, she met his eyes, "I just didn't realize we had an expiration date, that's all."

Taking a tentative step towards her, he replied, "There is no expiration date, Ellie. It's not that simple for me, you know that. This stuff is just" he paused as he gestured between them vaguely, desperate to find the right word, "...complicated."

She faltered, her frustration briefly flashing a look of sorrow, "What about this is complicated?"

He shook his head, struggling to articulate how just about every single thing in his life felt so convoluted. It almost felt like he wasn't even in charge of his own life anymore - a mere bystander watching it all play out like a movie, while he had no control over the plot.

"All of it."

Eloise frowned, but didn't look away. She merely studied him, noticing the tortured look in his eyes.

It felt sadistic, the way she craved his love so desperately that she was willing to set her happiness aside again and again. How she convinced herself in this moment, just by the mournful look in his eyes, that he did love her - even though it seemed as though he would likely never say it.

Clearly, she loved the pain almost as much as she loved him. In some twisted way, it was obvious that she wanted the heartache, to feel like she was always one step away from losing him.

Otherwise why would she stay?

"It feels like you'll never care about me as much as I care about you." she replied in a choked whisper.

It was the closest she could come to confessing everything she felt for him and part of her hoped he could read between the lines. It seemed from the outside that George was incapable of loving anyone, but Eloise wanted to be the exception.

The longing look in her eyes forced George to think back to her birthday, to when he was almost certain he heard her say that she loved him. It crossed his mind to ask her if it was true, even though deep down part of him already knew. But he remained silent.

The thought alone scared him because he knew he wasn't deserving of her love, he could never live up to her expectations of him. George loved her, as much as his fragile heart would let him. But, regardless of his own feelings, if he chose to profess his love for her now, he'd be making far too many promises he didn't know whether or not he could keep.

Since then, he held onto the hope that she hadn't truly said it - that it was all in his head. Maybe his anxious mind simply found a new way to torture him. Still, as much as he felt like he didn't deserve it, deep down he wanted Eloise to say it. He wanted it to be her so at least he wouldn't have to be the first to do so. For once in his life, he just wasn't brave enough.

Even now, as Eloise begged for his affection and all but said the word, George was in denial. It couldn't be true, because if it was, it meant that they were already on the unavoidable path of destruction he had predicted nearly two years ago when his feelings for her first started to develop.

If George fell in love with her, he'd inevitably break her heart one day. If Eloise fell in love with him, she'd eventually come to resent him.

It was always the same scenario to him, there was no other way it could play out.

Loving Eloise felt like a prison he had created for both of them. Denying a future with her was like trying to turn down a tempting shot of firewhisky. It was something he desperately wanted, but felt like it would only lead to bad things if he gave in.

"I do care about you, Ellie." he finally replied.

Perhaps Eloise would be willing to read between his own lines. To see that, despite how much he didn't want to admit it, he truly did love her.

"You have a funny way of showing it."

One more final step and he was face-to-face with her. Her features had been twisted into a scowl, yet she still looked just as beautiful to him. The pajamas she had been holding were quickly discarded as George pulled them from her grasp. A hand came up to brush her curls away from her face, soon coming to rest on her cheek as he beckoned her to look at him. Wanting her to somehow see through him, to know how he truly felt about her without having to say the words.

"I care about you more than anyone else, that's the truth." he said sincerely.

Eloise felt his other hand grip her waist, the tips of his fingers barely touching the bare skin on her back that had been exposed when he unzipped her gown. With a tentative hand, she grasped at his open shirt undoing the final neglected button as she held his gaze.

"Prove it."

It almost felt like a challenge, a test. George hesitated, loosening his hold on her slightly. There was a sense of longing in her voice that scared him and excited him all at once.

"Eloise, what are you- I mean, are you sure? We can-" he stammered, recognizing the look in her eyes.

They had taken things slow, at Eloise's wishes. There were lines that hadn't yet been crossed - teasing and taunting, but never giving in. Now, in the midst of all this doubt looming between them, it felt as though they were on the precipice of something dangerous.

"Show me how much you care, George." she said quietly, flicking her gaze between his lips and his eyes, "Please."

He knew better. Somewhere in his mind, George still had a conscience. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that granting her this wish wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't take away his words, it wouldn't solve their doubts. If anything, it would just make everything worse.

But he ignored all of it.

Instead, George gave her exactly what she asked for. In tangled sheets, so pale and pure. In Eloise's embrace, equally as innocent. In the silver moonlight that peaked through the curtains, allowing just enough light into the room for him to make out the euphoria that was etched on her face.

Eloise begged for his touch as if she were pleading for his love and George indulged in her every wish, answering the call of his name that fell from her lips like a prayer.

Their souls melded together, finally immersing themselves in something they had been craving for months. Between their quiet murmurs and satisfied sighs, two became one as they moved together in harmony. Partners of a dance that had never been rehearsed, yet was somehow performed in perfect synchronicity.

George whispered his praises in her ear as she neared the edge of bliss. A silent profession of love was made as both reached ecstasy within each other's arms.

Yet, once the flames had been stoked out, all that remained was doubt still looming ominously. All of their questions had been left unanswered. Forgiveness forgotten and doubt left to maturate into anxiety. Promises that were yet to be made and confessions of love that still remained a secret.

-

When George awoke, he found himself lying alone. The only thing covering his body was the pale blue sheets of Eloise's disheveled bed.

Wiping the sleep away from his eyes, he glanced around the room looking for any hint of her. From across the flat he could hear the faint sound of the shower running and assumed it was her. Verity likely stayed at his flat with Charlie, if he had to make a guess.

He closed his eyes once more trying to decide whether the night before had been a mistake. Of course it wasn't, he thought. Taking that step with Eloise had been something he wanted for a long time. But something about it still felt wrong.

The timing.

All he had done leading up to that moment was upset her by refusing to make promises she desperately wanted him to make.

Still, everything he couldn't bring himself to say had been given to her in his actions the night before. When he held her close and brought her to the precipice. As he watched her come undone and gaze at him in the afterglow as if he was the only one who could ever make her feel so adored.

But any amount of physical love he showed her couldn't ever measure up to what she needed from him emotionally. What truly Eloise desired was something he couldn't give. George wasn't even a glass half empty anymore, his tank had been tapped out for years. His optimism had long since been drained.

All he could hope for was the woman he adored not feeling any regret when she returned to her bedroom and had to face him for the first time that day.

When George heard her bedroom door open, he propped himself up on his elbows. He watched as she got dressed, avoiding his gaze. She plaited her damp curls and clasped the bracelet he had given her a year ago around her wrist. All the while, she had acted as though he wasn't in the room at all.

"Hey." he finally said.

"Hello." she replied impersonally as she sat in her desk chair and clasped her sandals around her ankles.

George glanced at the clock on her side table to see that it was only half past nine.

"Where're you off to?"

"Fleur's."

With each short response, George's anxiety grew. It felt as though the second she left for Shell Cottage, their entire relationship would crumble through his fingers like the very sand on the beach she was running away to.

He tossed the blanket covering him aside and quickly pulled on his boxers as Eloise stood up to leave.

"Hold on a minute, Ellie!" he called out to her as she left the room.

"Yes?"

She was expressionless, indifferent - cold.

"Are we okay?" he asked.

Eloise didn't answer right away and in that alone, George found his answer. They weren't okay, not entirely, but her lips spoke half truths anyway.

"Yeah, we're fine."

Unconvinced, George ran his hand through his hair trying to think of ways to stall and keep her in the flat so they could figure things out.

"Did you want tea before you go? I'll make it."

"No, that's alright."

She was now reaching for her bag and George was panicking.

"Well, uh, come by the flat later if you wanted to chat about last night. Or uh, anything honestly. Mum's having Charlie and Verity over for dinner, so it'll just be me."

A nod as she dug through her purse was all he got in response until she met his eyes once more, wand in hand, "I'll think about it."

This was it, Eloise was about to disapparate and leave him alone in her flat - confused and filled with regret. There was no more stalling, no way he could convince her to stay. It felt like a losing game, so he didn't even try.

"Okay well, have a nice time with Fleur."

"I will." she replied, twiddling her wand in her fingers nervously.

George could see her consider something for a moment before she stuck her wand in her back pocket and took a step towards him. A delicate hand rested on the side of his face as she pressed a quick peck to his lips. A small reassurance to quell some of his fears.

"I'll come by tonight." she said as she took a step back once more, wand in hand.

With a nod from George, she deemed it enough of an acknowledgement to leave him standing there. No one else was left to witness the fragility of their relationship other than himself and Verity's elderly cat Simon.

Quickly deciding he had no interest in remaining in said cat's judgmental gaze, George walked with defeat back into Eloise's bedroom. Begrudgingly, he dressed himself in his suit from the night before, draping the violet tie around his neck as he slipped on his dress shoes.

He took a curious glance at himself in the mirror by her desk, noting that he didn't see Fred when his eyes met his reflection. But it also didn't see himself either. He felt like an imposter in his own skin.

If he had met Eloise before Fred died, nothing would be like this. He'd profess his love for her gleefully and frequently. Everyone would know, especially her. But life hadn't worked out that way and he was a much different man than he was before.

He was starting to feel resentful, although he couldn't decide where to place it.

At first he wanted to blame Fred, after all it was his death that had ruined his life. But Fred didn't ask to die, it wasn't his fault. Maybe he should blame Harry for calling them all to fight that night. No, it was Ron's fault for sitting with the boy who lived on the train all those years ago. But Harry didn't ask for his own fate and Ron was merely a child who had found friendship. Truly it all led back to Lord Voldemort, didn't it? It was his fault that George couldn't admit that he loved his girlfriend.

George cursed under his breath as he tied his shoes. All of his thoughts made him sound delusional. There really was no one to blame but himself.

As he stood in search of his wand, a timid knock came from the other room. If Eloise had made plans with someone, surely she wouldn't have left in such a hurry that morning. But maybe getting away from him was more important to her than committing to a prior engagement. Perhaps it was Verity and she had forgotten her keys... and her wand? No, no. Maybe it was the landlord coming to check on something.

Realizing he'd never know unless he went to see for himself, George made his way to the front door. The only thing standing between him and the mystery person was a piece of wood that distinctly lacked a peephole, so he had no choice but to blindly welcome the mystery guest.

When he unlocked the door and pulled it open, the person on the other side was truly the last person he expected to see.

"Angie? What are you doing here?"

The girl looked him up and down, taking note of his familiar outfit before placing a knowing smirk on her face, "Have fun last night?"

His confused expression fell into a frown as he rolled his eyes, "Are you going to answer my question?"

"I went by the shop to talk to you but you obviously weren't there. Verity said you'd probably be here and she gave me her address."

"Okay? Why did you need to talk to me?"

Her confident smirk faltered as she pulled her gaze away from him and instead focused on her shoes, "I just needed to get some stuff off my chest... about yesterday. You're the only person who'd understand."

George immediately knew that she was referring to Fred and part of him wanted to turn her away. He was dealing with his own emotions about his brother along with his issues with Eloise, he didn't need Angelina's emotional baggage adding to it. But he couldn't do that to her, so he sighed and pulled the door closed and tapped his wand on it to replace the security wards to Eloise's flat.

"Let's go to your flat then."

With a nod, Angelina linked her arm with George's and apparated them to where she had been living in Dorset while playing for Puddlemere United.

It was only George's second time visiting her new home. A feeling of guilt grew in his chest realizing that Angelina had been mourning for the same person as him and he had done nothing to go out of his way to make sure she was okay. Fred's last letter came into his mind, his twin's final plea to him to make sure that Angelina was taken care of in his absence. It was safe to say that he felt like he failed rather miserably at the task.

A weary chuckle escaped from the woman as she slipped off her shoes and flopped down on the couch, "Sorry I showed up out of nowhere like that. I really was fine yesterday, and then I woke up this morning and just felt somber." she brought her eyes up to the man who was still standing across the room from her, "I just thought I should talk to you, to feel better or... at least to be understood."

George sat with Angelina for hours. They mostly talked about Fred, about how much both of them missed him. It was refreshing for him to be so candid about his emotions because, over the last two years, it felt like no one truly understood the void Fred had left in his life. No one, except Angelina.

A few tears were shed, but an equal amount of laughs were shared between the two as they recounted their favorite memories of the man they both missed so dearly.

Angelina smiled as their conversation came to a natural close, "See, I knew talking to you would help."

"It's honestly a relief to hear that. I feel like I've just been mucking everything up lately."

The woman across from him sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, studying his expression for a moment, "Things with Eloise going well?"

A scoff fell from George's lips. The situation he was in wasn't funny at all, but the simple fact that Angelina had even asked when it seemed as if she already knew the answer struck him as humorous.

"Could be better, I suppose." he stated matter-of-factly.

"It can't be all bad. I mean, you two spent the night together didn't you? You were about to do the walk of shame when I knocked on the door." she replied, wiggling her eyebrows.

George remained silent for a moment, trying not to let his feelings of guilt bubble in his chest once more.

"I'm in love with her." he blurted out.

It was less so a confession to one of his closest friends, and more so admission to himself. To simply say the words and see how they tasted on his tongue and felt as they fell from his lips. It was a thrill, an exhilarating rush that was quickly followed by grief and fear.

"I know you are." Angelina replied casually.

"You know?"

"I think it's pretty obvious," she shrugged.

If it was so obvious, then why did it feel as though Eloise wasn't convinced he even cared about her in the slightest?

"You should tell her." she added once she saw the furrow in his brow tighten just a bit.

"I can't," he shook his head, "If I tell her and things don't work out, it'll feel a million times worse - it might kill me. I think it's easier to just... avoid it, I guess."

Angelina tore her eyes away from the man sitting across from him. It was clear she was contemplating something and George followed her gaze to a photo that had been sitting on a shelf nearby.

It was of her and Fred, taken shortly after their final term at Hogwarts. The two had just reconciled, again, about a month after he and George had opened the shop. There was a sparkle of optimism in both of their smiles, as if they could both take on anything, as long as they were together.

Of course, history showed that their relationship would remain a bit rocky. They were on-and-off, both due to their busy work schedules and as a result of their occasional squabbles. But that photo, taken when they were both only eighteen and ready to take on the world, that was the Fred that Angelina wanted to remember - the one she wanted to bring back.

"I think you'll regret it if you don't tell her. If you love her, you have to let her know. Even if you're scared because, well - because anything could happen."

When Angelina finally looked back towards George, her normally comforting brown eyes were glossy - threatening to shed fresh tears. All George did was reach across the coffee table and grasp her hand. He wasn't ready to make any promises, but he could offer what little comfort he knew how to give.

"Will you help me clear out Fred's room?"

It was a diversion away from the topic of Eloise, but also something George had truly been contemplating for months. One promise he knew he could keep was including Angelina in the process.

A choked gasp left her throat as her eyes widened. She pulled her hand away from George and tucked her braids behind her ears, "Yes, yes of course. But when?"

"A few weeks maybe? Whenever it works with your game schedule."

She quickly stood and rushed to the kitchen, flipping through the calendar that had been hanging by the refrigerator.

"I have a few games in Ireland the next two weeks, then a final home game after that. Does some time in the middle of July work?"

George nodded, happy to see the smile returning to her face. As he glanced at the clock over her shoulder, he realized they had been chatting for hours. He was curious whether Eloise had finished her visit with Fleur yet, he then wondered if they had discussed him.

Anxiety washed over him as he imagined his sister-in-law telling Eloise to give him the boot. He probably deserved it, honestly, and he was well aware of that. Still, he couldn't imagine his life without her, even though he was still much too scared to fully commit to her.

George loved Eloise, and hated himself for it. He hated who he had become since Fred died. He'd neglected Angelina, he'd been denying his love for Eloise, he'd diminished the grief of his family simply because he believed he would always miss Fred more than anyone else. He was unpleasant to be around, stricken with grief and resentment at every moment. But he was better with Eloise. Kinder and more sympathetic. If only he'd be more vulnerable, more open.

The least he could do was try.

If Eloise decided to visit his flat that evening like she said she would, he would try to clarify his perspective. Try his hardest to explain to the woman, who he adored so much, why he felt like he could never get married, how he feared having a family would be too much of a risk even after the war had finished. Hoping and praying that she would somehow understand and not leave him high and dry at the end of it all.

All he could do was hope.

"Alright, Georgie?" Angelina asked after a moment.

"Yeah, just thinking." he blinked and shook his head a bit, "I should probably head home soon."

She nodded with a smile, "We did talk each other's ears off for hours."

George gave her a half-hearted smirk as he stood from the couch and dug his wand out of the pocket of his jeans. He approached Angelina, pulling her into a hug and cradling her head against his chest protectively. Fred's dying wish had been for him to take care of Angelina, and while he had done a mediocre job of it thus far, he was determined to change that.

"I'll see you soon. And take care of yourself, okay?" he said after placing a kiss to the top of her head.

She pushed him away with a laugh, "I should be the one to tell you to take care of yourself. Get lost."

With a roll of his eyes, he raised his wand slightly in preparation when she called out to him once more.

"Georgie, wait."

He paused and lowered his wand, glad that she had spoken up when she did otherwise he would have likely gotten splinched.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

There was no clarification needed, George understood. As he was prepared to reply, Angelina interrupted him before he even had the chance to inhale.

"And tell Eloise you love her, for Merlin's sake."

"I'll see you in a few weeks, Ang." was all he said in response before disapparating with a crack!