Weasley Twins Oneshots & Imagines

Empty (F.W./G.W.)

*angst

The common room was buzzing with excitement after a win against Ravenclaw in a cold, rainy Quidditch match. You were busy ringing out your hair and were soaked to the bone. Finally changing out of your heavy Quidditch robes made you feel like a new person overall. Across the common room, the roaring, warm fire was calling your name—and so was he.

"Saved you a spot," he winked. Something about the way he looked at you just did you in. You strolled over, careful not to wear your heart on your sleeve, and sat down next to him on the couch. He was running his hands through his wet, red hair. He stood up and began to strip of his Quidditch robes, showcasing a strong build underneath a white tank top. You were almost sure that your heartbeat was reverberating off of the common room walls.

You seemed to keep yourself pretty steady in the heat of the moment. "Down, boy," you told him and pulled him back onto the couch. "Just have to show off, don't you?"

Fred winked again at you and pulled a dry sweater over his head. "Can't help it."

Just then, his twin appeared in the common room and ran over to you. He picked you up off of the couch and spun you around in the air. He was still in his rain soaked uniform. "Brilliant playing tonight, Y/N,"

"And same to you, Georgie," you replied when he put you down. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were swimming with excitement. He bit his bottom lip and kept his hands on your waist for a moment before pulling away and beaming at you.

"She's always brilliant," Fred said, making your heart flutter. You felt your face go red. You were just going to do it. You were finally going to tell him how you felt.

Four years and counting you'd been nursing this crush. Everyone—literally, everyone—seemed to know, except the boy himself, and his twin. So bloody distracted all the time. But you didn't mind. You hadn't really been ready to tell him. But maybe now, in the aftermath of a brilliant Quidditch match, adrenaline and Butterbeer coursing through your veins, you could.

You sat yourself down next to him and began tapping your feet on the floor. Just do it, you thought to yourself. You were always getting caught looking at him, anyway. In class, in the Great Hall, during Quidditch matches, while playing games of Exploding Snap in the common room. You couldn't help it. One look from Fred Weasley, and you were a puddle on the ground.

You turned once towards George, on your left, who seemed startled when your eyes met. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat but placed his arm behind you on the top of the couch. You could see the rise and fall of his chest, which seemed to speed up with the buzzing of the party. "Y/N?" He placed a hand gently on your knee.

"Yes?" You asked him. He seemed to be picking and choosing his words very carefully, but was interrupted when a bustle of girls came running down from the dormitory, giggling obnoxiously.

Angelina Johnson made her way over to the three of you by the fire. "Incredible match tonight," she said.

Just then, she placed herself right on Fred's lap, curling up close to him as he whispered something in her ear. She giggled a little too sweetly, and your heart stopped. Since when? You couldn't help but stare at the two of them, and your fingertips went ice cold. You'd never felt a sinking feeling like this one before. When on earth did that happen? You could feel pricks behind your eyes and in your throat, and you pleaded with all your heart for the tears to stop. Wasn't there some sort of spell to make you stop crying? One escaped your eyes and fell down your cheek, and George noticed.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, careful so as not to get anyone else involved. Fred and Angelina were now kissing slowly, and you so very much wanted to yell at them to go someplace private, but instead, you wiped the tears from your eyes, turned towards George and asked, "Would you please excuse me for a moment?"

You hurriedly made your way for the door, as the tears were not stopping themselves. Gently pushing your way through students, you quickly excited through the portrait hole and ran as fast as you possibly could, away from the common room, away from your friends, away from Fred and Angelina. Of course, you couldn't be upset at anyone but yourself. You had many chances to tell him how you felt. Fred wasn't supposed to be some mind reader. But still, you could feel anger bubbling up inside you.

You ran and cried until your throat and lungs burned, searching for more air. You were somewhere in an abandoned corridor, nowhere near anyone or anything, so you could cry. You could cry and yell out in pain and nobody would hear you.

You fell to your knees and sank to the floor. You didn't think it would hurt this bloody much. You weren't a crier, not normally. But this was different. Years and years you'd nursed your feelings and built up your confidence, only to have them broken in two minuscule seconds.

How were you ever supposed to face them again? Surely, Fred knew now. Or was he so oblivious in his new relationship that maybe he still didn't? Either way, you didn't know how you'd be able to look him in the eyes again, knowing he'd rather be looking in hers.

Just then, you thought you heard footsteps. "Y/N?" A deep voice called your name. You hurriedly tried to brush away tears from your face, but your body was still shaking and you couldn't get it to stop. George Weasley turned the corner.

He ran over to you and helped you to your feet. With an arm around your waist, the two of you found a nearby bench and sat. He didn't say anything—instead he let you continue to cry quietly into his shoulder, massaging your back in small circles. It felt nice to hear his heart beating in sync with yours. His presence and friendship was comforting.

You peered up at him, his eyes solemn and needy, and he said to you with a catch in his throat, "You like Freddie, huh?" It's almost as if you could see his heart sink inside his chest.

You shut your eyes and nodded. It sounded so silly, so juvenile, but it was the truth. "Is it that obvious?" You asked him, knowing the answer.

But he was kind to you. He'd always been, ever since the day you first met. "No, I just...I just know you."

It was comforting in a way nothing else ever would be, having someone as gentle and respectful as him knowing you in a way that nobody else did. "I just, I feel...so stupid."

George brushed a piece of hair behind your ears. "Don't feel stupid."

"But I had all this time to tell him and I just...didn't," you admitted. "Years. I mean years, George. Why didn't I just say anything?" You let your head fall into your hands and heard George breathe in deeply beside you. He was still running his hands in circles across your back. "But seeing them in there, like that, it was just such a shock, and—and now I feel so..."

"...empty," George said, finishing your sentence for you. It was as if he knew exactly, exactly how you felt. You looked up at him, his eyes filled with hurt and confusion and sadness, and nodded your head. Yes, empty. Emptiness engulfed you. Possibly a little over dramatic, but it was how you felt...you just couldn't help it.

"You just know me, George," you told him, sniffling again, and you couldn't help but let a laugh escape your lips. George grinned nervously at you and let you fall into his chest once again, the tears forming inside your eyes.

He placed a kiss on your head and squeezed you tightly. "Everything will be alright," he told you. There, in the abandoned corridor, sitting in silence, you let your emotions run freely—crying over the boy you once thought you could see a future with. The one and only boy you had ever loved.