New Beginnings // G.W. [BLURB]

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"I must look a right mess," You sigh, brushing at your clothes in an effort to rid them of the dirt that was no doubt staining your clothes.

It had been a long day. Gringotts had approved of your loan on a small shop in Diagon Alley, and instead of waiting a day to begin getting set up, you rushed straight from the bank to Weasley's Wizard Wheeze's where you grabbed George and forced him to help you out.

He had been just as thrilled for you; knowing how much you wanted this, how much you needed this. The both of you had celebrated with a single shot of firewhisky each before getting on with some of the cleaning in the empty, dusty shop.

"You could never," George murmurs, grabbing your hand, stopping your attempts to clean yourself.

"You're being kind," You laugh, pulling your hand from his.

"You always look beautiful," George whispers, his voice loud in the small, quiet room. "I've always thought you were beautiful, no matter what you wear or how dirty you are."

"Oh..." You whisper, not expecting such words.

George rubs the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks begin to flush. "Surely you know about my feelings for you?"

Stunned silent, you shake your head. George shifts from foot to foot as he states, "I've had a crush on you for years, since Fifth Year at least. I don't know why I didn't say anything earlier, I don't know why I'm saying anything now. It's okay if you don't feel the same."

"But I do feel the same," You protest, stepping closer to the tall redhead, "I've had a crush on you for just as long."

"How have we missed each other?"

"I don't know," You laugh, "But it's better late than never."

"Can I kiss you?" George asks, his voice wavering on the question, worried about your reaction. He couldn't put it into words how many times he had dreamed of this moment; how often he woke in the middle of the night with his hand outstretched as if reaching out to cup your face in his dreams. It always broke his heart a little further when he realised it was all a dream.

Losing all grip on your ability to speak, you nod to George who wastes no time in gathering you in his arms.

He pauses just as his lips are about to touch yours; allowing him a moment to collect his nerves. "I can't tell you how much I've dreamed of this," He whispers, giving you no chance to reply when his lips land on yours.

Any reply was lost the moment his lips touched yours. He kissed you gently at first, as if still in disbelief that this was happening but as your hands wound themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to you, George grew more confident. He pulls your harder against him; the hard ridges of his body aligned perfectly with ours as your lips fit together seamlessly, still tasting of the celebratory shot of firewhisky shared only mere moments ago.

The heat from George's body, from his lips, from the cinnamon of the firewhisky has you shivering in growing pleasure. George groans low in his throat as his hands tighten on your waist.

The need for oxygen grows even greater; the two of you breaking apart just long enough to suck in a breath before meeting the other halfway.

When George pulls away, he leaves you cold and confused. Not intentionally, he would never do such a thing, but such a shift had taken place in your relationship, you couldn't help but wonder what was going to be the fallout.

Pondering over the many thoughts rushing through your mind, your teeth sink into your bottom lip, tugging at the skin there. You press a hand to your forehead, working through the last two minutes of your life. "What was that?" You ask, breathless and craving more of the redhead.

"A kiss."

"That was more than a kiss," You argue, moving your hand to your chest, trying to slow the racing of your heart.

"Alright," George chuckles. "It was more than a kiss. I'm glad you feel the same," He states, "Do you want to know what else?"

"What?" You ask, biting your lip again.

"Bite your lip once more," He breathes, his voice low as he tugs your lip free, "I dare you."

Your thoughts are once again scattered as George kisses you slowly. His lips were tender, infinitely more loving against yours as his hand cradles your jaw. His newfound confidence abating slightly as he pours all emotions into the kiss.

Standing in the middle of your new shop, in the arms of the man you've loved since you were fifteen, life could not get more perfect.

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