George Weasley (all_ears) wrote in afic, @ 2011-08-12 00:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | !completed, character: eva montgomery, character: george weasley, player: sarah, player: stacey |
Who: George Weasley and Eva Montgomery
What: The end of a long day
Where: George’s flat, more specifically, his bedroom.
When: Thursday, August 4, 2005, late night
Rating: low; sad
Status: gdocs/complete
George had sent Natalie off to his parents’ for date night before he’d even started searching for Eva. He’d dropped Natalie off with an ‘I love you’ to his mum, dad and daughter, and a ‘boost the wards, m’sure Kingsley told you what’s going on. I’ll be back before Sunday.’ His mum hadn’t liked that part, but when he’d mentioned he had to go find Eva, his mum softened instantly and agreed without another word.
Now Stella and Eva Montgomery were tucked away in Natalie’s bed, both of them worn out from too many memories, emotions, and a too long day, and George was worn out from seeing, for the first time, his girlfriend side by side with her identical twin. He’d been grateful when he’d retreated to his room, because while he selfishly wished he was holding Eva, he wished, too, that he could hug his twin again. Fuck, he wished that more than anything.
He stripped to his pants, crawled into bed, and cut off all his lights without preamble, and wished like fuck for sleep to come, because tonight (of all nights) wasn’t a night to get fucked and force oblivion on himself. Tonight he had to stay alert, but fucking shit, he wished he could be fucking gone. Or at least holding Eva.
But since he had neither, he pressed his cheek further into his pillow and prayed to something that sleep would just fucking come for once. But that was wishful thinking. Sleep never did that without aid. And tonight he was unaided, hindered by grief he could never fucking swallow.
It had been- long didn’t describe it. Nothing really described it. It was something Eva personally never thought she’d have to relive again. Azkaban was impenetrable. Wasn’t that always it’s selling point. Those that went there did not return unless the ministry deemed it so. She knew it was a horrible place and only a select few deserved it. Not people like Justin or Michael. But people like Greyback and the Yaxleys that she wouldn’t even give the respect of a first name to. They were no family to her. She lived with her memories of why those bastards were locked up every day, but found any number of ways to forget about it. Now, she couldn’t. Their faces had stared at her from every angle in Diagon. It was paralyzing.
She would have to find a way to thank George for rescuing her from a loo and bringing her and her sister to his flat which was far more prepared for such a thing than their little hole in the wall. She’d have to thank him for giving her a chance to be a better sister than she had been. They weren’t close, weren’t as close as they had been was the better way to put it. But the moment she’d seen Stella she hadn’t let go. She’d kept a tight grip on her twin knowing that she was there and they were together. She’d borrowed a t-shirt from George to sleep in. It’s length certainly long enough for her small form. Laying next to Stella she’d tried to fall asleep listening for the calming regular sound of her breathing but- sleep didnt come. Eva stared at the ceiling for as long as she could handle before she disentangled her hand from Stellas and slipped from the bedroom. She padded barefoot down the hall, quietly opening the door to George’s bedroom.
His cheek was pressed tight to the pillow and he looked as stiff as she had, no relaxation of sleep in his form. Eva crossed the room and quietly pulled both knees onto the bed, kneeling next to him. Fingers softly stroked through his hair as she whispered his name. “George?”
George tensed at the touch, being startled from his wallowing in grief—he’d started to get damn far down into it. But recognizing her voice, he loosened the tension he held just a bit, enough to lift his cheek from the pillow and gaze at her. His tears were apparent, and his face was pulled tight, lips pursed as he had stifled the tiny little noises that had just started to slip out.
He didn’t have any words for her just then, and his blue eyes couldn’t quite meet hers. Right now, all he could see was her twin beside him, and his lack of twin beside him.
She tended to see herself as a selfish person. She knew that choices she made put her firmly in that camp but the moment that his cheek lifted from the pillow and she could see the wash of tears in his blue eyes had any thought of her own worries were entirely forgotten. Her lower lip slipped between her teeth as she felt her heart breaking just a little. A heart that she knew better than to have but feelings were never something she’d lacked, mostly just not wanted.
“Oh George,” she breathed out his name softly as the pad of her thumb swiped across his cheek, removing the path of wetness. Eva shifted her legs, sliding them out from underneath her lengthening down the bed. She angled closer to him to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
George’s arms came easily around her, because he fucking needed it, and while he could have pretended that he didn’t, he didn’t want to. He wanted to hold her and he wanted to forget. He hauled her close and pressed a kiss to her temple, letting out a heavy breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“No, not your fault,” he murmured, voice tight and raspy from holding his tears in.
Eva snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him in close to her. She threaded her fingers through his hair, fingers smoothing over the strands. “No...” She replied quietly. “But I can always be sorry that you have to hurt.” She pressed her head forward, forehead to forehead.
She looked at him, let her eyes wander all over his face to finally focus on his eyes that wouldn’t quite meet his. Two and two were slowly put together. In her own mess of feelings she hadn’t been able to think of what seeing her with her sister would mean to him. “I- I did ask you to bring her here.” Eva finally spoke. “And you are good enough to do that even though it does this to you-” She wanted to tell him that she loved him for that but she couldn’t bring the words to her lips.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively, gruffly, not liking the way she saw right through him. He felt vulnerable when he was supposed to be strong for her. He smoothed his hands over her back and tucked his chin down, pressing his forehead to her temple. He wanted to block the image—the lack of image of Fred out.
“It’s where you’re supposed to be. I want you here,” he tried to explain, holding her closer.
He managed to do the same to her. Knowing exactly when to come find her and when words or trying to fix things wouldn’t work. It was one of the reasons all of this terrified her so much. As right as it all seemed, she knew it would only hurt that much more when it came crashing down.
“It does matter.” She stroked a hand down his neck, smoothing it over the muscle of his shoulder. Eva didn’t know how to say how much it did matter. This was where she always failed. “Close your eyes.” She finally said, her hand skating from his shoulder to his cheek, thumb brushing across the stubble.
George only shifted enough to drag the covers up around her and bring her into closer contact with his skin. He needed to feel her next to him. He needed to feel her heart in all her pulse points—where their ankles touched, where their chests met. His addiction for Eva was becoming his strongest addiction yet, and just this, just holding her, soothed him some.
“So glad you’re here,” he murmured, tucking her close and lifting his mouth to meet hers. Even if seeing Stella in person had sent him to this point, it didn’t matter if it was what brought her here, had her here in his arms.
She slid her legs down along the length of his, limbs intertwining. It was a strange feeling... she didn’t know how to process it. To be the one that was needed. To be someone that could help and do something other than seek whatever solace she could from others. Eva blinked as the covers were tugged up around them and his grip tightened. There was one brief moment where her mind rebelled, she wasn’t capable of giving him what he needed, what he deserved.
The simple truth in his words as he spoke, erased any fear that she had. She could and she would be what he needed. And she hoped for more than just this moment. Eva cupped his cheeks with her hands and returned the press of his lips. “I’ll be here as long as you need me to be.” As close to Eva ever came to making a commitment. And one that she meant with all sincerity.
“Good,” he murmured, brow furrowing tighter for a brief moment at the thought that there could be anywhere else for her to be just then. At that moment, in George’s opinion, there was no where else he’d rather be, or he’d rather her be, and it was apparent in the way he held her.
Still, if he could change anything, it would be that he wanted Fred alive still, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d numbed up the thought of Fred in the last few years, but seeing another set of twins side by side set him off, and left him aching, and reminded that there was and empty part of him he still didn't know how to fill.
"I miss him," he murmured, voice clearly choked with tears. He wished he had the answers, wished holding Eva could take away that ache, but like her guilt over Nicholas, he was certain now that nothing quite could. It could make it a whole lot fucking better though, and he kissed her again.
Was there any way to fill a hole like that? Eva didn’t think there was. You could ignore it and forget that missing person and missing chunk of your heart but you couldn’t ever replace it. Maybe there were ways to learn to live with it or be reminded in ways that didn’t hurt so much. But she had never been very good at finding those ways. Or maybe she just hadn’t let herself.
If she could do even an ounce of that for George... it was worth anything that would come of it in the future.
“Of course you do,” Eva murmured softly, her lips brushing over his jaw. “You love him, he’s part of you always.” Didn’t matter where or how, his brother would be. She knew that no matter what fight she had with Stella, or whatever distance she placed between them... her sister would always be her other half. Her fingers spread on his cheeks as she held him close and returned the kiss. There was life in this, the press of their bodies and maybe that was what made it easier to forget, to ease the pain of finality of death.
George took in a slow, sucked in breath at her words, her use of the word love causing him to take pause... His eyes opened as if he were groggy, slow heavy movements as he shifted his head to meet her gaze. Her fingers were still spread over his cheeks and he lifted his own hands to cup her face. His hands looked so strange cupping her cheeks—they were big in comparison, thumbs on her cheeks, fingers on her jaw, by her ear, furthest fingertips in her hair.
“Eva,” he murmured, eyes darting over her face, meeting her gaze then dripping to her lips, lifting up to her brow as he studied her features. He stroked his thumbs slowly over her cheeks before lifting his blue eyes to hers again. He didn’t want to scare her. He really didn’t want to scare her, but fuck. He was on the cusp of murmuring words to her that he knew would scare her. What scared him was that he meant them, meant them more than he could bloody say.
Eva knew that she should probably stop whatever was happening between them. That she should just kiss him and make lose himself in her body and forget the pain that was aching away inside of him. She shouldn’t let this go on- but she didn’t. She let his hands move over her cheeks, long fingers curling into her hair and she just looked into those blue eyes that she always lost herself in.
“You don’t have to say anything George,” Eva started, her teeth dragging her lower lip between them before releasing. “I-” Her own voice caught in her throat and all she could do was kiss him. Putting every ounce of feeling she was terrified to admit to into that one gesture.
He pressed his lips back against hers instantly, fingers curling in her hair, cradling her face as he poured himself into the kiss. At that moment, completely sober except for the drug that was Eva, George knew he was in love with her. And he was sure she knew it, too.
“I don’t have to say anything, Eva,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to talk, just enough to look into her eyes. “But know I want to. I really want to.” He pressed his forehead to hers, one hand still cupping her face as the other slid down to wrap around her waist, holding her close. “But I’ll wait until you’re ready,” he whispered, brushing his lips over hers.
Eva closed her arms around his neck, sliding through the hair until her fingers clasped behind his head. She angled her head, hoping the kiss would never actually have to end. She knew there were words that could change things but there was some naive hope in her that if they didn’t speak them that things would- just go on. It was foolish because the heart always wanted what it wanted. Sanity be damned.
Her pelvis tilted closer as his hand wrapped around her waist. Her eyelids drifted close for a moment before she could compose herself enough to form words. She still didn’t have her breath back. “Feelings like that never wait until you’re ready.” She finally said. As close as she could let herself get to admitting that she felt everything he didn’t want to say in return.
George couldn’t help the sliver of elation that slid across his lips in a small smile. He pressed his lips to hers again, and again, small kisses littering her lips. “I love you, Eva,” he murmured quietly, not wanting to press too much with her by saying it too loud. “And I wanna hold you here with me and never let go.” He sighed softly and pressed his forehead to hers.
Her eyes fell closed as he peppered her lips with soft tender kisses. How a heart couldn’t melt under his attentions, Eva didn’t know. She certainly wasn’t that strong and her heart had never been that hardened. That was likely half of her problem. Her features contracted slightly as he spoke, eyes squeezing together. She could feel the warm prick of tears behind her lids and she couldn’t quite say why. Rather there were too many reasons why.
She couldn’t hide the sniff though when she reopened her eyes or the glassy sheen that illuminated her eyes. “I-” It was stupid to be scared to say what she knew she felt. It wouldn’t change that, even Eva wasn’t that delusional. But she was still terrified of the day when Love wouldn’t be enough. “I-” She disentangled a hand and threaded it between his two brush the tell-tale wetness away. “I do too-” it finally came out in a whisper as she curled her fingers around his wrist, holding tight.
He didn’t say anything more, just stroked his thumb in a slow path behind her fingers, catching any tears she missed. When she spoke, he said nothing, and instead kissed her forehead, then one of her eyelids, her nose, her cheek. He pressed his lips slowly against hers. He slipped his hand from her cheek so he could take hold of the hand that held his wrist so tightly, twining his fingers with hers.
“Let’s get some rest, baby,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the moment with any more words. “I’m not going anywhere.”