Just Around the Corner || A G. Weasley Story

Inventory

If Cassandra was wondering if he was looking at her before, she no longer had to.

She knew.

She could feel his heavy stare on her as she floated through the store.

Ever so often their eyes would meet but now, he was the one quickly turning away, trying to hide the red tint on his cheeks.

Cassandra finally had some control, some answers. Even if he never admitted it, never said it out loud, she knew.

He felt something.

Maybe just maybe...George wanted her like she wanted him.

Over the past two weeks since their drinks, these stares had become more and more frequent, growing bolder over time. It had gotten to the point where now his gaze would ignite her, sending her nerves into flames.

In the last week, something new had occurred. His gaze had sent the sparks south.

A heavy dull, ache had formed between her thighs, begging to be comforted. It persisted all throughout the day, creating a new challenge at work.

Whether he knew it or not, George had been teasing Cassandra all day. He found little ways to touch her, whether gently placing his hands on her hips to get around her, fixing a lone strand of hair, or helping her get items off the top shelves. 

Cassandra worried that she had lost George a week ago when Fred came around and asked her if she was seeing anyone. She was taken back at the fact he had asked but, once she saw the two of them in a hushed discussion only moments later, she realized who was the true instigator.

She recalled that she told Fred "it's complicated" which she felt to be a realistic short answer to her predicament. George had avoided her for the day after she expected he had heard the news but, it didn't take him long to bounce back.

Especially since here he was now, staring at her, his intense gaze feeling like it could burn a hole in her back. She pretended not to feel his heavy stare on her ass, so she tried to focus on restocking the sparklers. Once finished, she turned around and noticed how he quickly busied himself with straightening a sign that was already perfectly straight.

She was over the moon.

__________

Towards the end of the restless day, Cassandra saw George approaching her, though she pretended not to notice. "Hey Cassandra, if you don't mind staying late we need to do inventory."

She nodded, trying to act like she wasn't ecstatic. She definitely shouldn't be so excited about something as boring as inventory but George's words "staying late" made her heart flutter.

Once all the customers had left, George led her to the storage, giving her a quill and parchment. "Okay Giggles, do you want to start with the fainting fancies?"

Cassandra turned to him and dramatically rolled her eyes. She had told him to stop calling her that, even though he had been doing so ever since their night of drinks. She loved having a pet name, but she would never let him know that.

She started in her area of the room, making her way into the storefront. She was busily scratching down configurations, so close to being finished, when she noticed George in her area, counting as well.

The store was lit by candlelight now that the sun had set, enveloping them both in the shadows of night. She looked over to him, only a few feet away, his brows furrowed as he worked.

His profile was flickering in the light, the warm firelight complimenting his features perfectly. His long eyelashes fluttered as he looked between the parchment and the shelves.

Damn, the man is attractive.

The ache of discomfort between her legs was back again now, tempting her, making it impossible to look away from him. George looked her direction, causing her heart to skip a beat.

He had the damn look in his eyes again— but this time it wasn't accompanied by a night of firewhiskey.

He was him, fully him, there was no doubt in Cassandra's mind.

Her heart was slamming into her ribs with each exhilarated beat. As she glanced at him again, the heavy ache that had persisted all day grew louder.

She couldn't take it. It was too much to bear, his hooded eyes, parted lips, heavy breathing.

Cassandra turned away for him, trying to collect herself. She heard his paper flutter to the floor, a loud crash of the quill.

George was not having it, roughing grabbing her arm and tugging her around to face him. Without warning, he took control.

His lips slammed onto hers.

Fucking finally.

What was once a whisper of flame ignited within her at his touch was now a fucking fire, swallowing them whole.

He was hesitant yet firm at first, as if standing his ground but once she softened, molding into his arms, he took more. The smallest gasp escaped her mouth only to be smothered in his as he deepened the kiss.

His hand left her arm and began to finally explore as their mouths moved together, his firm grip landing behind her head. Her knees buckled and he quickly wrapped her in his arms, placing a strong hold on her hips.

Their tongues pressed against each other, performing a dance that only they knew the choreography to.

Remembering his place, remembering their circumstances he ripped himself away from her, causing Cassandra to stumble.

Cassandra whimpered at the loss of warmth and she surveyed him.

Holy fuck.

George was panting heavily, his lips wet and puffy. She bit her bottom lip, desperate for friction, desperate for comfort more than ever.

George groaned in frustration as he turned away from her. He seemed angry.

Cassandra's high seemed to float down as she began to fear. Did I do something wrong?

"I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done that." George ranted, never turning to her, "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"I'm your boss and your dating someone for fuck's sake," George said under his breath.

Cassandra viciously needed to console him, but when she placed a delicate touch on his back he groaned again and darted to his loft, his footing echoing loudly on each stair.

Cassandra knew her next decision would change everything... whether to forget this happened or go after him.

She contemplated for a moment, knowing what she should do, the least risky decision. She collected the parchment that had fallen into a rushed heap on ground beneath them, filing them and placing them on the closest counter before turning to go.

She had her hand on the shop's doorknob, ready to leave when she ran a gentle touch over her lips, still buzzing from the encounter.

She knew this was playing with fire, but it had to be better than the frigid cold waiting for her at home.

She could no longer ignore her desire, after all...George's kiss had gotten her closer to reaching climax than sex with Adrian ever had.

Perhaps it was a mistake but Cassandra turned back, following in his forceful footsteps.

A/N: If you've seen New Girl, this chapter was inspired by 2x15.

-M😈