Lyra || Charlie Weasley ||

Sounded like you were really enjoying my dear brother's company.

Get a grip! I scold myself, feeling my cheeks grow warm again. To make matters worse, Ginny keeps shooting me knowing smirks across the table. I glare daggers at her, but she remains utterly unrepentant. The brat is enjoying this far too much.

Thankfully the chaos of wedding preparations provides a distraction from my flustered thoughts. I throw myself into helping Mum prepare the decorations and food with gusto. The faster I wear myself out, the less brain space I have for torrid daydreams.

In the evening, after what feels like endless primping and pictures, Ginny finally declares me ready for the reception. I smooth my hands over the floaty wine-red tulle of my dress, admiring the subtle shimmer in the fabric. With my hair swept up in an elegant braided bun and just a hint of makeup, I have to admit I feel beautiful.

Ginny hooks her arm through mine, matching in a flowing navy gown. "Come on, let's go knock Charlie's socks off!" She gives me an eager nudge toward the door. Laughing at her enthusiasm, I let her tug me along. I take a deep, steadying breath as we enter the marquee. Got to keep it together tonight. The last thing I need is Mum or anyone else noticing if I swoon over Charlie.

The reception tent is already bustling with mingling guests when we make our entrance. Mum rushes over, fussing and cooing over us both. "Oh Lyra, you look absolutely stunning! Charles won't know what hit him," she gushes, eliciting an exaggerated eye roll from me.

Still, I can't help scanning the crowd for any flash of red hair, my stomach fluttering nervously. What will Charlie think seeing me so dressed up? I didn't have a chance to talk to him at all today.

Speak of the devil - across the tent, Charlie appears beside Bill, laughing at something. My steps falter as I take in the breath-stealing sight of him. He's dressed in an expensive but simple suit, tailored to fit nicely against every swell of his muscles in the expanse of his body. The crisp white shirt pulls appealingly across his sculpted chest, while the burgundy tie adds a pop of color against his pale skin and vibrant hair matching the exact hue of my dress.

If you thought he looked good in those jumpers and coats on him, he looks like a Fucking Greek God in this suit. His hairs were tossed in a manner as if he just got out of bed but somehow on him, it works, the effect is artful, enhancing his rugged Charm. His warm brown eyes look like molten gold in the light as they meet my blue ones.

My pulse stammers as I offer a weak smile, feeling bare under the molten caress of his lingering gaze. It drags slowly down the length of my body and back up to capture my eyes once more. The corner of his soft lips twitches upwards into a broad smile that makes my breath hitch. The air between us seems to shimmer and snap. I steady myself against the onslaught of his effortless magnetism, rendered unsteady in ways no magic could ever achieve.

Get it under control! I order myself sternly, dragging my eyes away. Act normal. You do not need these raging hormones derailing everything tonight. Just avoid Charlie as much as possible. Easier said than done, as Mum immediately waves him over.

"Charles! Don't you look lovely tonight?" She positively beams, guiding me forward. I resist the urge to stomp on her foot. Why is my love life suddenly her favorite hobby?

Charlie's gaze smolders, that lopsided grin spreading. "Thank You, Bella, you look quite lovely as well." His voice is smooth like honey. "Bill! You look absolutely ready to sweep your Bride off her feet." Mum says as we reach the boys and Bill thanks her, I can hear the words, but my mind has stopped processing them as Charlie's Earthy, Vanilla scent infiltrates my scenes.

"Hey Bill," I say, nervously fidgeting with my fingers. "Good luck." Bill flashes a reassuring smile, replying, "Thanks, I sure am going to need it." There's a playful hint in his tone as he adds, "I hope I don't fall just looking at her." He stumbles over his words, attempting to clarify, "Not like fall, but, you know..."