game night | g. weasley

43. Coward

"I never meant to hurt him, I didn't know," Asher defended, his voice whimpering. "You and I both know that my plans were already set before he told me about—"

"Yet you still ran away like a fucking coward," Fred cut him off once again, stepping closer to him.

They were eye level, but Asher didn't feel like he had the upper hand. Fred was much stronger, angrier, and could easily knock him dead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "would you just tell him that?"

"I'll make sure he gets the message," with Freds final words, Asher looked at his feet in defeat, walked around the registers counter and left through the door.

Fred looked up, seeing George leaned over the upper level railing with an Extendable Ear in his hand and a frown on his face.

"Wipe that frown off your face," Fred ordered. "Nothing he says matters anymore. If he was really sorry, he would've sent an owl years ago. You're better than him, you always were."

George retracted the ear, nodding as he apparated himself down to Fred. "But you said you didn't know I was bi, so how come all of a sudden you know why I was so upset that he left?"

Fred raised an eyebrow at him, "You don't cry like that over the loss of someone who was 'just a friend'. So I had my suspicions."

"What if he meant it, though?" George suddenly asked, following Fred as he smiled at the customer who approached the register. "I mean, what if he is sorry for leaving? Traveling was his dream—"

"Right as a war was beginning? He's a coward," Fred explained. "I don't care what he has to say, and neither should you! I'm sick of seeing you hurt, George. You're finally happy with someone, and you're gonna ruin that just to hear him say he's sorry? I'll hex you, too."

"Why do you have to be so annoyingly protective?" George whispered angrily, turning his back and walking away.

Fred looked over at him as he disappeared up the stairs to the flat, a long and tired sigh escaping his lips. "Because you always get hurt."

•••

When Delilah came home from work, the shop was still open, but she was surprised to see George laying down on their bed.

She walked into the flat, sighing and rolling her neck from the tightness in it. She placed her coat on the rack and kicked her shoes off, approached Ruby and whispered "hello darling", then went into the bedroom.

George laid there, he still had his work clothes on, shoes included, and he had a pillow held incredibly close to his chest as he stared out the window as snow fell into the alley.

He didn't lift his head when the bedroom door opened, which made Delilah even more concerned.

"Love?" She whispered, approaching his side of the bed. "Are you all right?"

When he didn't answer, despite his eyes being open, her eyebrows knitted together. She sat down slowly, carefully placing the back of her hand on his forehead and brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Do you feel sick? Have a bad day—?"

"Are you gonna stay?" He suddenly asked, his eyes shooting to hers. "Because if you aren't then you might as well break up with me now before we get married then have to divorce each other."

Delilah sat silent for a moment, complete confusion drifting through her mind. She knew George could get insecure and she would have to reassure him about things, but he had never brought up the thought of splitting like this.