Still ; George Weasley

One-hundred and thirty-five

Allie

Oh shit.

I did it again. I drank — I got myself drunk. I groaned at the thought as I sat up, squinting my eyes at the bright light coming from the window.

I looked around.

The alarm clock on George's nightstand showed that it was five in the afternoon.

There was a set of my clothes folded on top of the dresser, which confused me.

I got out of bed and after getting dressed in the jumper and the sweatpants, I decided to open the dressers, revealing that most of my clothes was gone.

"George?" I asked softly as I left the bedroom, ended up finding him in the bathroom, getting himself dry after a shower.

Fred wasn't in the flat and Chloe was lying in the kitchen.

"Babe where's my clothes?" I asked and looked at him before he used a drying spell to dry his hair.

"In the trunk by the door."

"Wha—" I looked towards the front door as I stood by the bathroom door, frowning when I saw the trunk with my name on it. "...you're kicking me out?"

He shook his head and looked at me.

"I visited an alcohol rehab facility while you were asleep." he said. "Explained the situation, told them there was nothing you'd rather do than sign yourself in to get the help that you need."

My eyes widened as I looked at him in shock.

"You're joking."

"I'm not." he shrugged. "Listen, Allie... I don't know what to do anymore. Nothing I do seem to help. You refuse to talk to your therapist about your drinking habits and the group therapy seems to help with everyone but that."

"What drinking habits?!" I laughed. "I'm nineteen years old... I drink like any nineteen-year-old would!"

"No you don't, Allie. You drink because you can't stand being in your own body with the feelings you are having and you keep drinking even though you know what it's doing to everyone around you!"

I scoffed.

"This is fucking ridiculous!" I exclaimed. "I know I've been drinking a bit more than usual whenever I have these difficult feelings, but I am not addicted! I don't need rehab!"

He reached out for me but I backed away.

"Allie—"

"You went and got a spot for me at a rehabilitation centre without even talking to me?" I asked. "I'm not fucking going!"

"Oh yes you are, Allie!" He yelled and followed me out of the bathroom. "You are going, because you don't want this relationship to go wrong, do you?"

"Don't do that!" I yelled, turning to look at him. "This relationship won't go wrong! Well, it will if you take decisions like this without speaking to me when it revolves around me!"

"I am not spending the rest of my life having to take care of your drunk arse!" He yelled back. "If you don't stop now, you'll turn into an alcohol and I don't want to watch that happen!"

My hungover was really bad and it hurt my head to yell, but George was frustrating as fuck right now.

"But I'm not—" I started to tear up, trying to hold it back. "...listen, I just had a nightmare... I just needed a little help to feel better, but I'm okay now, George..."

"You're not." He sighed. "It's just a month, Allie. They gave me a plan that I could go over with you before we go to check you in... we can go over it and you'll feel more secure about the whole thing."