If I'm Lucky {Fred Weasley}

Grief Isn't Linear

I know that I'll survive, but

Healing fucking hurts sometimes.

I shifted onto my other side and felt resistance from the weight that rested on my waist. I rubbed away my blurry vision to finally see what was happening around me. After my eyes adjusted to the light, I sat up and saw the arm of a sleeping Fred still wrapped around me, causing the memories of last night to come back to me.

Fred and I kissed.

We actually kissed.

I kissed my best friend.

Fred Weasley kissed me.

No matter how I say it, it doesn't feel real, yet here he is. Lying next to me with his arm draped over my lower half, and I can't stop smiling to myself as I watch him sleep.

His features were almost childlike in this state of complete relaxation. I wanted to commit every little detail of them to memory: The curve of his eyebrows, the colour of his lashes, how the light bounced off them and his fair skin, and the shape of his lips that I had gotten to know oh so well last night.

I memorised every freckle that dotted the bridge of his nose and cheeks and loved how you could really only see them if you were close enough to him or in the proper lighting.

While studying the texture of his skin, my eyes trailed to his forehead, and I started to wonder what brilliant thoughts hid inside his extraordinary mind. It was the same place that held all of his incredible product ideas and mischievous pranks. Where his witty sense of humour and roguish confidence called home and where all the talent and wisdom for his charms, jinxes, and spellwork lay.

A place filled with drive, ambition, and creativity. There always seemed to be a lot going on in there, and Fred never gave himself enough credit for it. I wish he could see himself the way I always saw him: as this ridiculously remarkable person with so much to offer the world.

Okay, enough staring. I feel like a creep now.

Hoping Angelina and George didn't see this, I looked over to see if they were even still there. Fortunately for me, they weren't. They must have already gone upstairs or something.

Oh, my Godric, Angie! I have to tell her about this!

Careful not to wake Fred, I lifted his wrist lightly and slowly slid out from underneath his arm. Once free, I laid it back down softly before crawling out of the tent.

I sprung to my feet and darted towards the stairs, almost colliding with George on my way up.

"Woah! Slow down there, Lettie!" He held out his hands to stop me from crashing into him.

"Sorry," I told him and stepped out of his way so he could finish his descent down the stairs.

He walked past but didn't go far before he turned to face me. He propped himself up against the railing and stuffed his free hand into his pocket, giving me that cheeky grin that the Weasley twins were so famous for, "Sleep well last night?"

Turning to face him, I put my fist on my hip and cocked my head to the side, "Do you ever mind your own business?"

He chuckled, "Hey, I'm just saying, you two looked pretty cosy when Angie and I woke up this morning," He winked at me.

I rolled my eyes, "Speaking of Angie, where is she?"

"She's in the bathroom getting ready. I have to get her back home pretty soon."