George Fabian Weasley (hiseviltwin) wrote in reduxpitch, @ 2016-03-22 14:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, character: alicia spinnet, character: george weasley |
WHO: Alicia and George
WHEN: Afternoon of Tuesday the 22nd
WHERE: Alicia’s flat
WHAT: George read a thing he wasn’t supposed to see and it hurt his widdle heart.
WARNINGS: Some F-bombs and some feels
STATUS: Complete
George’s day had started out rather whimsical. A little bit of good natured chaos with the wards failing and everything getting aired out, but at first there was nothing horrible. A little bit of relationship stuff that may have been better off kept private, but nothing harmful. Sure, he’d said a word to Lydia for the first time, and done it in public, which was maybe not smart, but they’d worked that out, and he was in a pretty great mood.
He’d returned home from his lunch date with her and thought he’d browse for more drama. And then he’d found Alicia’s entry and its conversation about him. He shouldn’t look. Nope. He should put the book away and relive the lovely hour he’d spent in the file room at Lydia’s work. Oh, one little peek.
So of course he read everything, how she’d felt like he’d replaced her. That was the worst. And the farthest thing from the truth. He’d picked up his quill, prepared to tell her exactly how irreplaceable she was, but then saw the comment that she was at home.
“Fuck,” he said to himself, throwing book and quill onto the sofa and heading straight out the door, across the alley, up the stairs, and to her door. He stared at it for a good ten seconds, making up his mind, before pounding as loudly as he could.
--
Alicia did not have a right to feel the way she did. She knew that. She'd told George to move on, that she couldn't be with him or love him. That it was totally and completely over. And she believed it, too. She was in love with her husband. They were working things out, getting to know each other again. It was great, and she was happy. There should have been no reason for her to feel anything about George and Lydia.
And yet. She told herself that Lydia was a really nice girl, and that even if they broke up, at least she was a far worthier choice for him; there was a good chance her neighbor could make sure he loved again.
The problem she seemed to be having was that it was happening so very soon. It hadn't been that long ago that he'd told her he would always love her. Of course Alicia wanted him to move on and love someone else, she wanted him to be happy. She just thought it would take longer than a month for him to forget about her. To replace her. If someone who loved her like he had could get over her so quickly, so easily, then it stood to reason that Terence, or anyone, wouldn't either. Maybe she was just a little to good at getting people to stop loving her…
Making the decision to come home early hadn't been all about her feelings, however. There had been no one to train, as the trainees were getting more and more field experience, and she felt like she might be coming down with a cold or allergies or something. So she allowed herself to take off at lunch, leaving a note at her husband's desk before she left, and Apparating home so she could flop down on her bed.
She'd been home about a half hour when a surprise knock roused her; it was barely afternoon yet, so she couldn't think who it might be. It turned out to be the last person she thought she'd see.
“George...what’re you doing here?”
---
This was stupid. It was rash and impulsive and would end with tears, but he was doing it anyway. He needed to make himself very, very clear. She needed to understand, once and for all, what he was feeling. Or, maybe he needed to understand and she was a good a sounding board as any. He’d whined and complained about her to everyone else on earth, but had been avoiding her. That wasn’t fair, and the result was she had gotten hurt.
Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he imagined it was, but hurting her was the last thing he ever, ever wanted to do. She was too important, to special, to him. Even if they never spoke again for as long as they lived, he couldn’t stand to think he’d caused her to spend just one minute doubting her worth.
When she opened the door, he sucked in a breath. He’d been half hoping she wouldn’t answer, or that Terence would and he could have made up some bullshit something about the dog and been able to leave. But no, there she was, and he was going to do what he couldn’t do the last time they crossed paths: speak plainly and honestly.
“We need to talk,” he said, prepared to do it in the hallway if he had to, but he had to get it out before she shut the door in his face. “No one will ever, ever replace you, Alicia.”
--
Seeing him was hard. It made a part of her ache--the part that missed her best friend and regretted how things had ended between them. She felt nostalgic in a way that made her miss him so much she didn't know what to do. So the confusion that pushed all that to the back of her mind must have been pretty strong.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, heart beginning to pound in her chest. Alicia had only talked to her brother about those feelings of being replaced, and she hadn't looked through her journal enough to notice she could see things she shouldn't have been able to. She didn't know the journal wards were down. There should have been no way he knew about how she felt.
---
She didn’t know. Dammit. George sighed. “Sorry. I… Something happened today, wards aren’t working, everything was public. All of it.” He felt like a creepy stalker asshole, but it had just been so important that she understand that he hadn’t stopped to think about how surprising this all could be. He really should have written that he was coming over. Dammit.
“I wasn’t going to read it, it’s not fair, it’s your business, your private conversation, but I wanted to know what you were saying about me and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, but I did and… Alicia, I…” He raised his eyes to the ceiling, feeling them well up as his mouth twisted and he tried so hard not to cry. “I’m just trying to figure out how to live without you.”
--
“Uhm, come inside,” she responded quickly, almost interrupting him, and backed away into the flat. She started to panic before she could even fully process why. The wards being down, people being able to see...this could get very ugly very quickly, because no one but her brother was supposed to be able to read that. Not George or her sister, and certainly not Terence. Oh yeah, there was the reason she was panicking. There was a reason Alicia hadn't gone to him about George.
Given the situation, inviting him inside was probably not the best move, but she needed a moment to think. She stalled for time, retreating into the kitchen on the pretense of putting the kettle on, but really she was just trying to calm down enough to think. She needed more information--both about the ward failure, and what he'd just said about trying to live without her.
With the kettle on, nothing else to do with her hands, and a clear question of clarification on the tip of her tongue, she turned back to him, bottom lip between her teeth.
“So the wards...they all went down? You could see everything? And everyone else…?”
---
George hesitated a moment before stepping inside and was immediately smothered by the familiarity of the space. He knew every inch of this place, knew its smells and its feelings, and he’d never thought he’d be here again. He couldn’t move all the way in, yet. It felt intrusive, indecent, so he just watched her from the doorway. He’d long ago memorized every move she made, the precise sequence she took when making tea, the way she walked. It hurt him to see, but he couldn’t look away, not when he’d thought he’d never be witness to something as simple as Alicia making tea again.
He blinked, coming back to reality when she spoke. This wasn’t what he’d come here to talk about, and he very nearly reminded her of that, but he could read her expression as easily as words on paper. She was upset, and he absolutely couldn’t blame her. She was being blindsided by a lot of things at once.
He nodded, shoved his hands deep in his pockets, and approached slowly, cautiously, as though she might flee if he got too close. He supposed he wouldn’t be surprised if she did. “I don’t know why, I don’t think anyone does, but… Yeah. Everything. But I think people are more entertained by the big dramatic revelations, not paying attention to out-of-the way conversations. I only looked because…” Sigh. “Because I was curious and I’m awful.”
--
“You’re not awful.” It was as automatic as breathing, her inability to let him take the blame for anything that wasn’t actually his fault. It didn’t matter if he was technically snooping or not (which he wasn’t), because she should have had the guts to tell him herself, only she hadn’t ever wanted him to know. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know. She was a little ashamed of the way she felt, the way it felt, to her, like she just wanted two guys to be in love with her and now she’d gotten caught by one or both of them. Alicia could tell herself and everyone else that she wanted only Terence and for George to move on, but now she was pretty sure she was the world’s biggest liar.
--
“That’s nice of you to say,” George said, now unable to look at her, “but…” He let the word hang, stretching into the first awkward silence he had ever encountered in her presence. How fucking weird was that? It made his skin itch.
But what? Obviously there was something wrong with him, and that was a question that had been nagging him less often, but it was still there. What had he done wrong? But that was a tortuous circle he was going to keep himself out of. So, instead of asking that question, he watched the kettle heat up. Because that’s fucking interesting.
Why had he come over? He’d wanted to be the man on the white horse again, to tell her everything was okay, to make it better, and instead he’d upset her. Not that what he’d told her had been in any way his fault, but that wasn’t the point.
“Well. I just… wanted to tell you that you were wrong in thinking you were replaceable. So… Yeah.”
--
“I don’t...think….That’s not…” she tried to contradict him, to say that that wasn’t what she’d said or meant at all, because she had a wonderful husband who looked after her always and they were happy together and they were going to fix their marriage and everything was going to be great again and he wouldn’t need to replace her because she wasn’t going anywhere and he said he would always love her even if they weren’t together.
But that was the same thing George had said. The man who had put her back together, who always sacrificed his own happiness for her, who would have forgiven her for lying to him if she’d only picked him. There had never been a moment when she’d doubted his love for her. She could have--and had--doubted everything else in her life, but that had been her constant for the last two years. George’s unwavering love for her.
Doing what she asked should not have shaken her faith in herself and Terence, but it had. Not in Terence, so much as in herself. In her ability to be good enough, to keep him. If a love like George’s could disappear inside of two months...what hope did she have to keep Terence’s alive for decades? Naturally, the person she should have gone to, then, was her husband, but she couldn’t. Because what she was feeling wasn’t rational or reasonable.
“You did exactly what I told you to do. Why should I feel replaced when I’m the one who ended things?”
--
“Figures,” George said, “the one time I listen to what someone tells me to do…” He rubbed absently at the back of his neck, feeling really stupid for overreacting and coming over. “I’m sorry. Maybe I misunderstood. You sounded… upset and I felt like it was my fault. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
Because of course she didn’t want to see him, and he’d shown up in her space unannounced to pass judgement on something she thought she’d been saying in private. She wasn’t his problem anymore, no matter how much he wished that she was. He couldn’t fix her, he’d never been able to, no matter how hard he’d tried. If only he’d been better.
“I’ll go. Sorry.”
--
“George wait.” Her reply was weak, her voice thick. The way her eyes were burning, Alicia was surprised when he seemed to admit defeat and retreat. He hadn’t misunderstood anything. She was upset. It wasn’t his fault. There was nothing to be sorry for. Once again, he’d come to her rescue even when he shouldn’t, when she should have gone to someone else to fix her. Because he was right, she wasn’t his problem anymore. She’d absolved him of that the day she told him it was over.
“I…” Head down, the first of the tears that had welled up fell to the floor as she closed her eyes to stop them, and Alicia tried to rub them away with her fingertips. Like that was going to erase them from existence and they could pretend this whole thing hadn’t happened. “I’m not upset.” Obviously.
--
George had actually turned to go, he was going to walk away and leave her be. It wouldn’t have been easy, leaving her to her troubles, but some day he did need to learn to let her go once and for all. But, inevitably, he stopped when she told him to. Because that’s what he was programmed to do. Anything she asked, he would do, no hesitation, no regret.
He turned back to her and his gaze tracked the teardrop falling through space to splash upon the floor. He sighed. Dammit, George, now look what you did. He closed the distance between them, hands still in his pockets, not trusting them not to gather her up and hold her until she smiled again. Until everything was perfect and nothing ever upset her again for the rest of her life.
“Then why are you crying?” He asked gently.
--
“I’m not,” she replied stubbornly, still trying to get rid of the evidence that she was obviously lying. It was difficult to stop crying, though, when he stood so close to her, not hugging her like she needed him to. His need to hug her until she felt better was rivaled by her need to be hugged by him, the way they used to, even before all the...mess. With him standing so close, after weeks of nothing, Alicia ached more than ever for things to go back to normal. But that would be bad, wouldn’t it. If he really hadn’t replaced her already, it could damage whatever progress he’d made in getting over her, meaning that once again she’d put her own welfare before his if she let him try to make her feel better. Or would he be okay? She didn’t know. She didn’t really know anything.
---
George had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. It wouldn’t have been a cruel laugh, but it was kind of funny the way she was refusing to admit how upset she was when she was actively crying in front of him. But, oh, that would be the worst thing he could do, and he ached enough as it was to help her.
“Come here,” he said, unable to stand another moment of watching her in pain, and pulled his hands out of his pockets to reach for her to pull her in and wrap her up. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “You’re all right.”
It was the most natural thing in the world, hugging her, they fit together perfectly, and he knew the best way to make her feel secure in his arms. He just didn’t expect for it to hurt him so badly, aching for what he’d lost, what he never thought he’d have again, for what he’d put behind him.
He wasn’t going to start crying, too, dammit.
--
There was about two seconds of doubt about whether or not it would be a good idea--for either of them--to let him comfort her, before it was completely washed away in the feeling of his arms around her. It didn’t feel like home the way it did when Terence hugged her, but it did make her feel safe, like it was going to be alright, even if it wasn’t in that moment. He was warm and familiar and it hurt, but did, at the same time, make her feel better, a little bit at a time.
Her arms folded in between them as she rested her cheek against his shoulder, facing away from him, because otherwise it would be too intimate for both of them. Her tears began to dry quickly, though she was no less upset.
“I’m sorry about everything,” she told him after several long moments of quiet. Her voice was still thick and weak; she was tired and her mouth was dry, but she didn’t complain about either. “I never meant to hurt you.”
---
He had halfway expected her to push him away, maybe even shout at him for being so forward, and he maybe would have have deserved it if she had. But she hadn’t, she’d surrendered and curled up against him like she used to, safe and protected. He’d only ever wanted to be her protector.
In the old days, he’d rub her back or kiss her hair or whisper in her ear that she was strong and beautiful. But now he was still, afraid of the line that he might cross if he fell back on old habits, even if it meant comforting her. It could be so easy to step too far, and he was quite certain that, as much as he cared about her, he didn’t want to take that step. He had it good, out there in the world, better than he thought he’d ever have again, and he wasn’t going to wreck that by being weak.
So he let the moments pass, offering his presence and his comfort, until she spoke. Sorry, yes, she’d said that already. But she hadn’t exactly been open about what she’d meant by it.
“You did, though,” he said quietly, and maybe it wasn’t helpful to follow the line of thought, but she had brought it up, and he wanted to be honest. “You used me up and left me to drown.” And yet here he was, back again for more because she’d sounded upset. When would he learn?
--
Standing in his arms again was almost as painful as the last time they’d seen each other. Except the only thing more painful than that literal run-in was the actual end of things three weeks before. This time was painful, not just because of the memories it brought up, but because it made that evening feel fresh and raw again. It had been almost two months, but Alicia was still not over what she’d done to him.
“I had to. You would’ve...You needed to move on.” Her worst fear back then had been that he would try and wait for her, that he would miss his chance to be happy with someone else because he held out hope for something she never wanted to happen. Looking back on the evening logically, she knew why she’d said what she said, and knew she shouldn’t regret it. Harsh truths should have allowed--did allow, apparently--him to push away from her with enough force to find his own footing and a love of his own, with someone kind and considerate and available.
But her pain at causing him such pain was so real that she couldn’t continue to let him believe that anymore. She couldn’t let him believe that all there had ever been between them was manipulation and taking advantage of him. He was seeing Lydia now, perhaps that would be enough to keep him steady.
--
It was like ice water was rushing over his skin, running in paper-thin streams down his body, flushing down his neck, his spine, his arms. He was cold, his hands shook. It was something very much like terror, but that wasn't quite quite it. It was a dramatic shift in his perception, and though he couldn’t quite see the cause clearly yet, his senses were telling him something was happening.
“I… I don’t think I follow what you mean,” he said slowly, his mouth suddenly very dry. He closed his hands into fists so she wouldn’t feel them shaking against her back. That didn’t stop the short, rattling quality of his breathing. Something in him didn’t like what it was hearing and that frightened him.
None of this was adding up to what he thought he knew, to what he’d been told. Her accepting him into her home, her apologizing, her rationalizing, her allowing him to hold her for so long. It didn’t make sense.
--
This was it, the moment of truth. Alicia could feel the change in his body, in his posture, though she didn’t know what it meant or how he was feeling. She didn’t know if she was going to like it or not, but at this point, she thought that maybe he deserved to know the truth. She’d thought for a while that she owed him the chance to move on, fully, cleanly. Now that it seemed he had, or was starting to, she had to wonder if Terence’s honesty policy might be better for him. If anyone deserved the truth, it was George.
But that didn’t mean she could look at him while she said it. She didn’t know how he was going to react, but if it was going to hurt him, she couldn’t watch while she did it.
“I lied, when I...picked Terence,” she said slowly. “It wasn’t about--I didn’t feel…” She had to stop for a moment and gather her thoughts. “I needed you to hate me so you wouldn’t wait for me.”
--
His hands were hurting from clenching them so tightly, so he forced them to relax as she spoke. The words buzzed in his ears with an almost palpable pressure and his heart felt like it was going to burst right out of him. He couldn’t touch her anymore and he stepped back, letting her go as he tried to relearn how to breathe.
“Shit,” he said, rubbing his face with numb hands. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Lied about which parts, specifically?” He dropped his hands and looked at her. Did he even want to know, though? Wasn’t it easier to just go on being angry? Except he’d let go of the anger already, leaving nothing but a void where his friend had been.
--
Suddenly this felt like a terrible idea and Alicia could feel that she was starting to panic, that he was going to be hurt and angry all over again. The truth would drive him away and he’d never want anything to do with her and she wasn’t even trying. It had been hard enough to handle when it had been her decision to push him away, but now it seemed that she was just proving to the both of them how much better off he was without her.
“That it didn’t mean anything to me, that you didn’t…” Looking down at her hands, heart pounding, fingers shaky, Alicia felt like she needed to run away, get away from this. The sudden loss of his warmth made her feel cold, fragile. Like she was about to break. It was far from a new feeling; she spent nearly every moment caught between them feeling like she was one mistake from shattering into a million pieces.
“I thought it’d be easier if you thought it was just you.”
--
“So,” George said, stepping towards her, “you’re saying… You told me I meant nothing to you so that I would hate you?” He said this slowly, working it over in his head. “To make it easier? That… is ridiculous.” He couldn’t tell if he was angry, amused, or just plain confused. Bit of all of the above, probably.
“Alicia,” he said, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders, “I love you. I always have and I always will. Nothing you do or say will ever make me hate you. And there was nothing easy about losing you.” He squeezed her shoulders gently. “Not having you in my life has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to live through.”
--
Ridiculous as it might have sounded to him, to Alicia, it still made perfect sense. If he could be angry with her, hate her, he could be motivated to move on, to replace her. To fill that void with someone more deserving. The ridiculous part was how she felt about him actually doing it. She should be happy for him. She should be relieved that he’d found someone else, so she could stop feeling so guilty and thinking she’d broken him. But instead, she was doing what she always did, and made everything all about her. Like the self-serving, narcissistic harpy she was, right?
“It couldn’t have been that hard,” she said softly, gaze flicking up to his face for a second before finding her feet. She shouldn’t have said it. Shouldn’t have felt it. All of it was unreasonable. She had no rights to it. She was a terrible person who apparently felt like she needed two men to be in love with her in order to feel any worth at all.
--
“That’s not fair,” George replied. “I was drowning, and a friend was there for me. She kept me going, reminded me that I needed to eat and to sleep and to take care of myself. Whatever else has happened between her and me, that came much, much later.” He sighed and slowly, tentatively pulled her to him. He wanted to reassure her, to help her see that she was still just as important as ever.
“She’s not you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about her for who she is and what she means to me. When I accepted that you and I were over for good, I realized that happiness was closer at hand than I expected. Or the potential for it, anyway.”
--
The part of Alicia that thought she’d damaged him irreparably felt better as he explained, but the rest of her started to feel worse. He was going to be okay, was already on his way to okay, but it seemed to be moving so quickly for her that she couldn’t be happy the way she knew she should be. If she weren’t broken, she would be happy. But he’d already found someone to replace her, just like that. Perhaps the problem was that she knew she would probably never have found anyone to put her back together if their roles were reversed. Hell, the only way she’d lived after Terence had been because someone was in love with her already. If she had been dumped and rejected as firmly as she had done him, no one would want to go through the effort of fixing her. That knowledge was made worse when she thought about how no one should have to fix her because she should have the strength to do it herself, but she’d always been weaker anyway.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, trying to shrug it off. “Everything’s fine now, I just thought you should know the truth since you’re here and all.”
--
“Well, I appreciate your honesty,” George replied, tilting his head down so he could try to catch her gaze, “but is everything really fine?” He didn’t really know how he expected her to behave through this, so much about how he’d perceived her had shifted in just a few minutes. He just wanted his friend back, but he didn’t quite believe that’s what she wanted.
“Talk to me, please? You were upset enough to reach out before, and now it’s fine?” Not that she’d reached out to him, but to her brother, with whom she had an actual relationship. Or maybe it just wasn’t any of George’s fucking business.
“Or would you rather I left you alone?” He would, if she asked, though he didn’t really want to. He needed to be sure she’d be okay.
--
And just like that, she’d again easily convinced him of something that wasn’t the least bit true. Sort of. Maybe not, since he was double-checking. She sighed heavily, not knowing what she wanted to do or say; the only thing she did know was that she was tired of not having her friends with her, and that she needed a hug. Another one.
“No,” Alicia finally said, and lowered her forehead to his shoulder, “I don’t want to be alone. I just...I want to fix it.” But that was the story of her life. Messing up and then trying to fix it. She spent so much time trying to fix her mistakes. It felt like she spent all her time trying to fix things. She was exhausted. It would be nice if she could figure out how to stop messing up in the first place.
---
George did not hesitate in wrapping her up in his arms. This was what he did, every time she was sad or lonely, he was there to offer her the strength she needed to hold herself together until she could handle things on her own for a while. He’d never felt burdened by it, never felt that it was unfair. This was how he was, how he’d wanted to be. He had offered her support and he got to be near one of the most important people in his life. It was different now, of course, having gone so long without speaking, with him believing that he was insignificant to her, and with them both moving on, but there was still the desire for her to know that she wasn’t alone. George hated loneliness, solitude was his worst fear, so it was only natural that he would be so willing to help another feel less alone.
“Okay,” he said, eyes fixed without focus on the wall opposite him, “I won’t go.” He had nowhere pressing to be - though he’d like to avoid getting caught like this by anyone, even though it was perfectly innocent - and the last thing she’d said had set something glowing in his chest.
“Me, too,” he said, hoping he was understanding the ‘it’ she was referring to. Boy, would that be embarrassing if he was wrong. “I’ve missed you.”
--
George had always been comforting, that was the problem. He knew how to make her feel better, at least in the moment. His hugs always came without judgment, and even when they were together, they came without expectation either. They were warm and inviting and not being able to have one when she needed for the last two months had been hard--harder than she’d realized.
“I’m sorry I ruined everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Apologizing wouldn’t change the fact that she had hurt him, had in fact broken his heart, but if there was any way she could take it back, she would, he had to know that. And if he had Lydia, that meant he could forgive her, right? Not just because he loved her, but because they were friends first, that was what she wanted now. To be friends again.
--
At first, George didn’t know what to say. To say ‘it’s all right’ would be a lie, because, ultimately, it wasn’t. She’d lied and she’d hurt him and he’d barely survived it. And he wondered, briefly, if he could accept the apology. He wanted to, he wanted her back in his life more than he was ready to admit, but what she had done was the worst thing he’d ever had to face, it had changed his entire life and his perception of himself, both for the negative.
But the way she said it, he believed her, he felt it in her posture, wrapped as she was in his arms. He’d thought he’d known this woman better than most, and he thought he knew when she was being sincere. It wasn’t okay what she’d done, but it was in the past.
“I know you didn’t,” he said finally, hugging tighter for just a moment. “But it’s behind us, and I forgive you.”
--
Changing how he saw himself was the thing Alicia had wanted to avoid during their breakup, so if she knew that she’d done it anyway, she’d have offered to stay out of his life entirely, if that would have been easier for him. As little as she’d wanted to have to hurt him, damaging his worth and ability to love had been the thing she’d wanted to avoid at all costs; it was why she’d tried not to make the personal thing even more personal and hurtful.
“Do you?” She asked, keeping her face in his shoulder, unable to look at him. “I don’t.” He shouldn’t let her off the hook so easily; Godric knew she still hadn’t let herself off it. He should be angry at her, not just for hurting him, but for lying about it and making him believe that the extent of everything they’d had lay in what he could give her. He should have been hurt and pushing her away, not hugging her close like she was the victim here.
--
George sighed, the strength draining from his body. He kept his arms around her, but they were looser, barely touching her. "I have to," he said with a slight shrug. "Being mad at you doesn't change what happened, and it doesn't help anything. I want you in my life again, no matter what that means, and that can't happen if I'm carrying bitterness towards you." He sighed and stepped back, letting his arms fall to his sides.
"Having you around might be difficult sometimes, but..." He studied her for a moment. "I want to try. I know the future I wanted won't happen, and... and that's okay. Having you as a friend is more important." A pause. "But you have to want it, too."
--
She did want it. Losing the person she was that close to had been the hardest part of breaking his heart. Other than the actual heart breaking, that is. That part was hard to stomach, the fact that she’d gutted another human being like that, emotionally speaking, but the worst part was cutting such an important part of her life out. It wasn’t even like it was necessary for herself either; it might have felt a bit easier and less lonely if he had been the one hurting her rather than the other way around, but she hadn’t really even had to cut him out of her life. She could have just ended things and let him decide where they stood, instead of making the decision for the both of them. But she also still still believed that might have been worse for him than what she did.
“I do want it…” Alicia trailed off; because she did want him back in her life, but it occurred to her that there were other people who would inevitably be brought into this. Sure, it was between the two of them, but she had a husband and he had Lydia, and they’d slept together while they both knew she was married. Both George and Alicia could know that things were over between them, but the real question would be whether Terence and Lydia could trust that it was.
“Is it a good idea though?”
--
Hearing Alicia say she wanted to be friends again made George feel light and giddy. Like he could laugh until he floated away. He broke into a grin and was quite prepared to gather her up for a celebratory bear-hug when she continued talking. He deflated a bit as he considered what she could mean, metaphorically sinking back to earth. Stupid gravity. Stupid serious thoughts.
True, he wasn’t over her. But he didn’t think he ever would be over her. Not completely. But it was still somewhat fresh and maybe her presence might re-awaken things in him he’d worked hard to squash down and move on from. But…
“Won’t know unless we try?” He asked with a shrug. Reckless, that was George Weasley. Not as bad as some other Fred-type-people, maybe, but caution wasn’t exactly George’s favorite word. “I’m sad without you. I miss you. And if it’s weird, we can step back a bit.” What he didn’t want to say was the worry he had that being Just Friends would be much harder than being nothing to each other.
But, as he’d said, he wouldn’t know unless he went through it for comparison.
--
It was impossible to miss the look on his face when she said she wanted to be friends again, and just as impossible to see how deflated he got when she asked if it was a good idea. There were so many reasons why it wasn’t a good idea or a good time. If he wasn’t over her, if Lydia wouldn’t want it, or Terence...Alicia didn’t think he would ask her to stop seeing any of her friends, even George, and he definitely wouldn’t tell her to, but if he said he was uncomfortable with it...she didn’t know what she’d do. Both George and her marriage were so important to her.
“I...I need to talk to Terence. I need to make sure he’s okay with it. You should talk to Lydia, too.” If anyone else had a reason to not be alright with them being friends again, it would definitely be her neighbor. Their relationship was so new, and he’d been in love with her for over a decade. That wasn’t something that people got over in a couple months, even with a new love in their life. And there was the definite possibility that spending time together again, especially if they were alone, would dredge up feelings between them, things they’d shared while they’d been together.
--
“I will,” George said, “I’m… I’ll talk to her tonight. I promise. I’m not going to keep any of this from her because I owe it to her to be honest. I.. I hope she’ll be okay.” He really didn’t know for sure. He had an inkling if he led off with assurances that he wasn’t leaving her that she’d be receptive. “And if she’s not, or if Terence is not…” A shrug. “We’ll figure it out. I’d understand if they didn’t, anyway.”
He slid his hands in his pockets and let his eyes wander the room, looking for changes. “This is important to me,” he said finally, “fixing this. But I won’t do it at the expense of anyone’s feelings or sense of security.” He found Alicia’s gaze again. “So let me know what he says? If… If he says no, or has conditions, I will agree.”
--
Alicia moved forward without being prompted and wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly pulling him into a hug he could get out of if he chose to do so. Sure, she could have expressed her similar sentiments verbally and without touching him, but it probably wouldn’t have been as effective or comforting. It was nice that he felt the same way about their friendship, even though she didn’t have the right to even ask him for it.
“Me too,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I don’t think he will, but I want to offer conditions. If he’s going to trust me…” It didn’t seem like George needed her to finish that statement anyway, because he said he wanted the same thing. Alicia, too, would understand if either of their significant others was uncomfortable with them trying to be friends again. Feelings didn’t just disappear like that, even though she was sure that she had no romantic attachments to George anymore; the bond she felt with him was profound enough that any reasonable person would likely see it as romantic anyway.
“I’ve missed you a lot.”
--
George wouldn’t say out loud that he’d been quite aware of the fact that Alicia had yet to actually hug him throughout the course of the afternoon’s talk, though he’d done so twice already. So, when she put her arms around him he thought he could very easily cry with relief. He hugged her back, just enjoying the moment for the span of several heartbeats. He did love her, he would be the first to admit to anyone who asked, but she’d always been his friend first, and in the end, that’s what they were destined to be to one another. He could live with that.
“I’ve missed you, too,” he said quietly, his voice wavering just slightly. “And I don’t want to lose you again.” He took a deep breath and stepped back from the hug, reluctantly letting her go. They couldn’t just stand around holding one another if they were going to be good platonic friends.
“Conditions… Conditions are fine. Boundaries. I know I don’t have the best history with boundaries, but this is important enough to me, I can live within boundaries.”
--
For a long time, ‘love’ was not the word Alicia would have used to describe how she felt about George, even to herself. In the last three months, she’d had to stop lying to herself about that, because love was exactly the word that fit best. She didn’t know if she could admit it to anyone else, however, unless they asked directly. Terence might be the only one she’d tell, much as it would pain her to use the word, and as much as she didn’t want to have such strong feelings about him anymore. Oh she didn’t want to give up all of them, but losing some of them might be nice. Just enough so that he felt like any of their other friends felt to her.
“I think boundaries would be good, for both of us.”
--
“Right,” George said with a nod, “I agree.” And not just for the sake of their respective significant others. As much as George did want Alicia in his life, and as much as he adored Lydia, there was a nagging worry that he would slide back and fall right back down into that hole. So, getting comfortable a bit at a time, taking it slow, establishing rules. He could support this.
Who knows what he would have felt, though, if he had any inkling of how she really felt. If she’d said those words finally after so many years of wishing each night that she’d say them. Anger, maybe? For not realizing it sooner when they still could have made it work. Amusement at the irony of it? Or sadness because it was too late? Knowing certainly would have made this all more difficult.
He let out a breath, still feeling warm and pleased inside. “I think we can be okay,” he said, “if we do it right.” A pause as he considered how to phrase what he wanted to say next. “If everyone’s okay with it in a day or two, would you like to get lunch? Someplace busy, pub or something, where we can catch up? I’d like to know how you’ve been.”
--
The knowing that she had, actually, loved him was the entire point for lying to him. Alicia knew now that she’d made the right decision with Terence; she hadn’t always been so certain, but she was now, when she thought about who all of this could hurt most. George was an innocent bystander in the mess that was Alicia and her poor mistakes, but so was her husband, and now she had to minimize the damage. Even after two months.
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot. I’ll talk to Terence and let you know.” She wasn’t sure how realistic it was to make plans that soon, but lunch wasn’t the only way they could catch up. “We could talk over the journals? After the wards go back up?”
--
Right. That was actually probably better. Safer, less awkward. He just wanted to spend time with her, which was maybe a problem all its own. There was less pressure in a written conversation, more chances to step back and make sure nothing was said wrong. “Yeah,” he said, “that’s a great idea. I look forward to it.”
So now it was a bit weird. He’d run out of things to say, and so began the second awkward silence he’d ever experienced in her presence. “Well… You’ve probably got things you were planning on doing before I showed up. So… I’ll get out of your hair. This was… Weird, but nice. Weird in a good way?” He laughed a bit. “Sorry, I used to know how to talk normally to you.” A shrug. “I’ll go before I say something stupid, yeah?”
--
This was the George she’d missed. The silly one who said things that weren’t quite worded the right way. As much as she didn’t like to think he stumbled and said things was because he loved her and embarrassed himself in front of her, this was the way she preferred things, especially when the alternative was not speaking at all. Therefore, there was no way she could keep herself from grinning a little at the way he stumbled over his words.
“You don’t have to,” she said with a shrug, ”but...I understand if you do. Baby steps, right?” It was the same thing Terence had said to her, but it worked just as well for this situation. They needed baby steps to rebuild their friendship. All of her relationships, it seemed.
--
How long had it been since he’d seen Alicia smile? Too damn long. It was definitely well before everything went to hell, when they were on a collision course with awful and he couldn’t see it yet. He’d forgotten just how good a smile looked on her, and though a flush of embarrassment at stumbling over English was creeping up his neck and he mumbled “Oh, shut up,” at her with a half grin, he was secretly happy that he’d made her smile again.
And that was exactly why he felt he should leave. He wanted to just dive right back into where they’d been years ago like nothing had happened, which he knew was almost guaranteed disaster. So, as she’d said, baby steps.
“Right,” he agreed. “One step at a time. And this was a pretty big one to start with. So, I’ll see you, yeah?” He wasn’t sure if a goodbye hug was in order, but he thought he’d offer, arms opened in invitation.
--
Alicia couldn’t remember the exact last time George had made her smile either, but it was a good feeling; and now that she had her husband and her best friend back, maybe it was a thing she could get used to doing again. It had been years since the last time she’d had both men in her life and been happy, so she was very much looking forward to things being the way they were supposed to be.
“Yeah.” The smile stayed in place as she moved in for a hug; if he hadn’t initiated it, Alicia would have. As it was, it was probably too hard and lasted too long, but she didn’t really care. This hug wasn’t so much about comforting or halting tears--it was just about missing him so damn much.
When she decided it was time, she pulled back. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later?” Usually, that would not be a question, but with the way things had been going lately...could never be too sure.
--
Maybe the hug did go on too long, maybe he held her a little too closely and too tightly, maybe he never wanted to let her go. Maybe he didn’t care. But it had to end some time, and so when she eased off, so did he, letting her go and putting his hands in his pockets because he didn’t know what else to do with them.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling easily, feeling as though he could simply prance down the street, singing and handing out flowers to passersby. Hell. He might just do that anyway. He was so happy. “Definitely.”
He looked at her a moment more before heading to the door, pausing before opening it to pull her in for one last goodbye hug, though it was much more brief and far more friend-like than any that had come before it this afternoon.
“Okay, bye.” And, grinning like an idiot, he stepped out into the hall. At least he waited until he was back on the street to jump up and down for joy.