𝖳𝖮𝖴𝖢𝖧 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖱𝖲 | 𝖦𝖤𝖮𝖱𝖦𝖤 𝖶𝖤𝖠𝖲𝖫𝖤𝖸

21

APOLOGIES

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"What do you want?" I asked dryly, wiping off the tears from my face.

George gulped and took a deep breath.

"Willowee, please," he whispered, "Don't cry, that's all I ask you."

I snorted and crossed my arms in front of my chest, trying to put distance between him and my own feelings.

"You ask me something, George Weasley? You, after ignoring me and avoiding me for almost an entire week?"

He sighed;

"I know I've been an idiot-"

"You have," I confirmed, interrupting him.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Willow," George spoke, keeping eye contact with me, "If there's something you can be sure about is that I'd never hurt you willingly," he struggled to find the words, "I was confused - I didn't know how to process what happened and I thought that the best idea was to put some distance between us to save our friendship but I behaved like a bloody dickhead instead."

"You are ruining our friendship precisely by putting distance between us," I murmured with a trembly voice, trying to hold back the tears. "George, for fuck's sake, you could have simply sat down with me and tell me how you feel. It makes me sadder the fact that I matter so little to you than the fact that you regret what happened during a fucking drunk night."

He immediately shook his head.

"No, you don't matter little to me, Willow. You mean the world to me, you are the person I care the most about right after my own twin. You are my safe space," he tightened his lips, "And, that's exactly why I couldn't even look at your eyes because it's not about regretting...what happened, it's about putting our friendship in risk. I don't want to lose you, Willow. The last thing I want is to lose you."

I clicked my tongue, "You're making such a fuss of it."

"Well, yeah, because it is," he burst as if it was quite obvious.

"It wouldn't be if you had the balls to come to me and fucking talk. It's not that hard, fuck - we have had arguments before and we always managed to discuss them."

His eyes darkened and his expression became serious, something that was incredibly weird in George. I felt my eyes watering again but I managed to hold it back.

"And what the fuck did you want me to say, Willow?" he started in a deep whisper that sent shivers all over my body, "That my favourite person, my little Willowee, my bloody best friend fucked me better than anyone else before? That even though I was completely hammered I don't regret what happened and I fucking remember every single minute of it? Did you want me to say how I haven't been able to talk to you but I have spent these last days wanking in the shower thinking about you? That I found myself loving having you under me, moaning, and that you felt better than any kind of imagination I could ever form in my mind? That's what you wanted to know? How bloody much you have fucked me?"

I exhaled, completely gobsmacked. I swallowed hard, trying to think what to say, trying to process his words.

Don't do this to me. You can't imagine how much these words mean to me and how they are going to root in my mind.

"You could have told me earlier," I protested in a faint whisper. "You think I haven't chewed into this? Bloody hell, George, I've only had sex with three people in my whole life and one of them happens to be you - imagine how I felt when I noticed you were avoiding me! You could have told me; 'Oh, hey, Willow, what happened last night was great but I don't feel like repeating it because I just want us to be friends,' and that's it. It's not that fucking hard!"