Lover ; George Weasley

Sixty-three

Some of you seemed to be a bit worried if I was okay after I wrote a little about my childhood in the last chapter.

My point with the whole thing was that my mum acted like it was such a wonder how I've gotten depression when she... I don't know how to word it because I don't like using the word abuse.

Anyway, I'm alright. I was actually removed from my home in March due to her manipulative behaviour.

I've talked to a whole lot of people since my grandmother reported her to the local authorities when I was 10 or 11, and now that I've been officially diagnosed with depression, I'm soon starting a whole process with group therapy and more stuff like that.

Plus, my mother hasn't been physically violent for years.

-

The weekend later, the girls were with Malcolm so I stayed with George which had become a habit for whenever I didn't have Elsie and Leah at home.

Tonight as George tucked his kids in, Roxanne had requested a goodnight kiss from me which didn't necessarily come as a surprise, and I was not going to say no to that.

Even though they weren't mine, I had grown to love them deeply.

Earlier today, Roxanne had asked me to do her hair, in which George quickly had to step in because I did not have any experience with her type of hair.

So that got me thinking... I had decided that for the next while, I was going to do a lot of research about caring for her type of hair.

I wanted to be able to say yes if Roxanne asked me again.

"How was it meeting Inez and Dove's three foster children?" George asked me as we got ready for bed that night.

We hadn't seen each other much that week. His shop had been extra busy so he hadn't been able to pay me visits at the office, which was fine because we still talked on the phone.

"They're amazing." I said as I unbuttoned the buttons in my shirt. "The little boy Jack got a hold of some paint and spilled it all over himself and the floor. He even did it after finding his sister's ballerina skirt. I think she's a bit mad that there's now paint stains on it."

George smiled as he listened to me talk.

"I want a boy." I sighed. "A son..."

I pushed the material off my shoulders and folded it before placing on the dresser. At the same time, George propped himself up on his elbows.

"Get over here and we'll try." He said, obviously joking.

I rolled my eyes and watched as his dropped to my trousers when my hands undid the button, then pulled the zipper down.

"Would you ever want more?"

His eyes went back up to mine and he sat up, pulling back to sit against the headboard. He sighed, placing his hands in his lap.

He seemed to be thinking about it, then he nodded.

"Yeah." A small smile formed on his lips. "I would want one more if the time was right."

"How about marriage?" I asked. "Would you ever think about getting married again?"

I pushed down my trousers and slipped the off, folding them as well. I put them neatly on the dresser, hearing George chuckle.

"You are such a mum."

I looked at him and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You didn't answer my question."