After ranting on about Charlie being an idiot and after I ate the breakfast he made us, I left. It was Sunday and I was gonna help George at the register in his shop. That way Verity could be moved to the storage room and restock shelves while George took care of the numbers.
Fred was normally the one to do that, but since he was gone, George had to take over, though I know he hates it and it stresses him out when he also has to do stuff around the shop. That's why I always do my best to come and help him out on Sundays.
Charlie once promised me to never get a tattoo that had anything to do with me. It's a stupid idea and it's even stupider to get one after our breakup.
Though I couldn't ignore the warm and melting feeling in my heart at his explanation of it.
"You keep me grounded."
Fucking asshole for making me love him even more than I already did. It was like, every time he opened his mouth, he made me fall even deeper. It had always been like that. Eight years of falling more and more in love with him and it was fucking painful, especially now after he left me for almost six months.
"Here is your change and receipt, sir." I smiled at the man, handing him the money and his receipt. "Have a nice day."
I handed him the bag and he simply grabbed it before leaving.
You too.
How hard can it be? I wanted to roll my eyes so badly but there was other customers and I didn't want to come of as rude — especially not when this is George's shop and not mine.
"How's it going down here?" George's voice came from behind me at the very same moment as he entered the area behind the register. "Are you okay?"
I looked at George at his question and frowned to question him.
"You're smiling." He commented, nodding towards my face.
Oh shit. I was.
"I haven't seen you smile like that since—" George sighed when the realisation hit him. "How long has he been back for?"
"Huh?"
"Charlie." He spoke. "I've known you since I was a little boy. I've gotten to know your different smiles and that one there—"
He pointed at my face, causing me to force my smile to disappear, though I had to bite my lip because for some reason it was harsh
"... that's how you smile every time you're happy because of him." He said. "And don't get me wrong, I love my brother but the man left you six months ago."
"And I'm not smiling because of him." I argued. "I'm angry with him."
"Sure you are." He nodded sarcastically. "And I still have a twin."
My grimace dropped at his joke and I slowly folded my arms over my chest.
"Not funny."
"I thought it was." George laughed. "Fred would've thought so too. You're just boring."
I finally gave in to the urge, and rolled my eyes. But it was okay because this was because of George and not because of a costumer.
"So he is back?"
I nodded.
"For good this time." I told him. "Well— that's what he says anyway. He's been living on my sofa for a week. I don't know— something just happened this morning— well, something has happened every morning for the entire week. I think I might consider giving him another chance."
George raised his eyebrows at me as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, tipping on his toes while he pressed his lips together.
"I see the Weasley charm has worked again." He told me. "Dear old brother charming his way back into your heart after shattering it."
I cocked an eyebrow at him as a smirk spread on my face.
"Didn't know you were a poet."
"I can be." He joked. "When I want to be. I do write letters though."
"Letters?"
"Yeah." He smiled softly. "I've been writing them to Fred ever since he died. I burn them so they reach hell and he can read them."
I honestly didn't know what to answer to that. I know jokes are George's coping mechanisms but they aren't mine and I don't want to take his away from him, but I don't want to join in on the jokes either because I'd just feel guilty.
"When you get back home, can you give Charlie a punch from me?" George grinned, patting my shoulder before he made his way over to some new costumers to talk to them.
When I did get home that evening at around six, I opened the door to the loft, my eyes immediately landing on Charlie.
He sat by the kitchen table, his left elbow propped up, head resting in hand with a small black box in the other. The box was opening, revealing a diamond ring, but I didn't get to see more of it because Charlie heard the door and slammed the box shut before standing up abruptly, looking at me as he discreetly tried to push the box into his trousers.
He was upset but he was trying to hide it. It seemed as he had been in deep thoughts while staring at the ring.
"How was your day?" He asked, offering a smile. He kept his hand in the pocket of his trousers, the other fidgeting with the edge of his t-shirt.
I shrugged as I closed the door behind me, kicking off my shoes. I placed them neatly, then took off my jacket and hung it on the wall.
I turned around to face him, pushing up the sleeves of my shirt before I ran my hand through my hair.
Charlie didn't say anything and neither did I. We simply stared at each other. I then narrowed my eyes at him and he mimicked my actions, causing me to smile even though I tried to hide it. He then mimicked my smile too but it turned into a real grin and a laugh slipped from his mouth.
"I'll take that as a yes, then?" He asked softly, almost in a whisper. "Had a good day?"
"I was mainly standing behind a register, telling costumers to have a good day and eight out of ten times, they didn't even bother to respond." I said with a shrug. "But I guess that's the life when you're working in a shop. Thankfully, I've got my sisters for that downstairs in my own shop."
Charlie hummed, his eyes following me as I walked to the cabinet in the kitchen to grab myself a glass.
"Some people can just be so rude." He said in a teasing manner. I filled my glass with water before I turned around and leaned against the counter.
Charlie was leaning on the table, his hands placed flat down against the surface while his eyes burned into mine.
"You'd know everything about that, wouldn't you?" I asked, taking a sip of the water. He sighed as he slowly straightened up.
"You're still mad."
"Mad?" I laughed. "No."
I shook my head.
"I think the word you're looking for — is angry. I am angry with you, Charles. And why wouldn't I be? I've heard you explanation but it doesn't change that I went through six long months of grieving our relationship."
He threaded his fingers into the front of his curls while he pressed his lips together. He then walked to the fridge and I watched him as he opened it. He leaned his arm on top of it, the other hand grabbing the handle while he leaned down to look inside.
"If we're gonna do this—" I started, causing him to slowly turning his head to look at me without changing position. "... we're taking it slow. You can sleep on the sofa, you don't have to move out — or we can take turns on having the bed. Uh— you can move your stuff back into the bedroom and I'll find a couple counsellor."
Charlie slowly straightened up, closing the fridge.
"You're giving me a second chance?"
I nodded.
"Wasn't that what you wanted?" I asked, drinking some more water. "We just— we need to take it slow and we need couple counselling. But I swear to god, Charles Weasley, if you ever fuck me over again, I am so much more than done."