Still ; George Weasley

One-hundred and sixty-four

Hi!

I wanted to update earlier, but I went to bed at around six in the evenings and just woke up an hour ago at midnight to take a shower.

Now I'm sitting on the bathroom floor, getting ready to go to bed again, because I have to get up early.

It's one in the morning, and I have to celebrate my birthday today, even though it's not my birthday for another week.

Anyway... I decided to finish the chapter and update now so I hope you enjoy it.

-

George closed the door behind us.

It made me jump. Not enough for George ton notice, but it definitely started me. I looked back at him and our eyes met for just a second. He smiled comfortable at me before he placed his hands on my shoulders, running them down to my arms.

"Welcome home, angel." He said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. "Do you want me to take this?"

He motioned towards the small plastic bag in my hand. It contained the clothes and everything else I was found with in that bunker.

It wasn't much.

I shrugged.

"Can you throw it out for me?"

I handed it to him before looking at his face as he carefully grabbed it.

"You want me to throw it out?" He asked. "It's your favourite jumper. I'm sure mum's got a trick to get the—"

"Please." I breathed. "It's full of blood and it contains horrible memories. I don't want to ever look at the jumper or the jeans ever again."

George looked at me as I made my way to our bedroom, though I stopped at the door and turned back around.

I tapped my fingers against the doorframe while George looked down at the plastic bag.

"She didn't just take the wedding ring." I said and ran a hand up to my throat as George looked at me. "She took the ring you gave me back in school when you asked me to be your girlfriend."

George inhaled sharply, placing the plastic bag on the table in the kitchen before turning my way again.

"Fuck the rings." He said with a shrug. "You know the only thing I care about is your safety."

"It's not the only thing I care about." I said, wrapping my arms around myself. "They're both symbols. The necklace is a symbol for the start of our relationship. It's one of my favourite memories... and the wedding ring was an important part of our ceremony."

He took a step towards me but didn't get to approach me further before I turned around and walked into our room.

I went to pull off the hoodie I was wearing, but I hesitated as I noticed the mirror that was facing me in the corner.

Nope.

I summoned a towel before walking over, covering up the mirror.

"What're you doing?" George's voice startled me, making me jump as I turned and looked at him.

"Nothing... I was just—" I gestures towards the mirror before looking at it. "...can it stay like that for a while?"

"Sure." He nodded, and once again, I hated the way he looked at me.

Pity.

I sighed, tapping my fingers against my leg before I turned around and walked to the dresser. I picked up the shorts I usually slept in, simply staring at it in my hand.

Then I sighed and put it back down, closing the drawer.

"I'll just—" I looked down at myself. "...sleep in this."

"You're going to bed?"

"I'm tired."

"Fair enough." He let out a small chuckle, watching me while I made my way over to the bed to get it ready. "I talked to Timothy."

I paused, slowly looking at him before I hummed, continuing to get the bed ready for me to sleep in.

"You told him nothing happened besides what he's already seen."

"Yeah..."

"He thinks you were raped again."

I froze, then immediately shook my head and looked at George.

"No. That's not what I meant— I— I just meant... he's seen the injuries. Nothing more happened than that."

"You sure? Because you don't like to have eye contact with me anymore. Especially not right now when I'm asking you if you were raped. And you're back to sleeping in sweats and a hoodie. Just like you did when Cameron—"

"I wasn't raped!" I snapped, a cloud of silence falling upon us immediately after. I threw the last pillow on the floor and George watched as it basically slammed against the wooden floor. "I just... I want to go to sleep. Please hold me? I can't—"

"Okay." He nodded, stepping inside of the room. He closed the door behind him, and as he started getting undressed, I looked away, focusing on crawling into bed instead.

George crawled in behind me, carefully wrapping an arm around my body.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah." I muttered, feeling him press a kiss to the side of my neck.

I turned a bit so that I could look back at him. I was almost laying on my back, but at the same time, one of my shoulders were pressed against his chest.

"She tortured Marco, then told me it was my fault." I said. "And now he won't even look at me."

George brought a hand up to brush some hair out of my face before he wrapped it around me again.

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

I stayed quiet, laying my head down again while staring out the windows. It was starting to snow a little.

"Allie. It's not your fault." He said. "Marco knows that. He just needs time to process everything."

"But I need him." My eyebrows fell together as I tried to keep myself from crying. I didn't want to cry again. "I know he needs time, and I know it was worse for him, but we were both there... he might hate me."

"Why would he hate you? Because Carrington tortured him? The both of you?"

"No." I basically whined. "Because I— 'cos she made me—"

I can't say it.

"Give me your hand." I said but instead of waiting for him to give it to me, I grabbed it and slid it underneath my hoodie and up until his hand cupped one of my boobs.

"What're you doing?" George asked with a small chuckle.

"I needed to make sure I wouldn't be repelled with you touching me."

"Okay..." he breathed. "...well, are you?"

"No."

He slid his hand back down, wrapping his arm around my waist to keep me locked against his chest.

"You don't have to talk about what happened down there." He said. "Not now... but eventually when you're ready, I'm here to listen."

I sighed.

"She—" My thoughts raced as I tried to find some kind of way to say it. "...she know how open Marco and I've always been when it comes to sex. She knows that Marco bought me my first toy. She used that against me to make a point."

"What was the point?"

"That I'm a sex-obsessed freak." I breathed. "That I'm a slut... a whore. She told me I needed to learn a lesson."

"What lesson?"

I closed my eyes and gulped, before I simply shook my head.

"Marco's never going to look at me again."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do." I sighed. "What happened... I'm disgusting."