To Comfort and Heal // G.W. [blurb]

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warnings: low mood, sadness for no reason, comfort, fluff. 

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The day had been long. A weight had settled onto your shoulders over breakfast, and despite how hard you tried, it wasn't going to budge. Instead, you had to make do with this added weight bringing down your mood as the day steadily progressed.

George had noticed the change. He had noticed the exact moment your mood shifted; the way your smile dimmed and your eyes lost a little bit of their joyous shine. He had seen the way your shoulders had slumped in defeat, accepting that your low mood was to be with you for the rest of the day. George wasn't aware of a trigger; hadn't seen or noticed, but he knew he was going to try his hardest to get you through this rough spot.

He just had to get you through the day.

The common room is quiet on an evening. As term progresses and students find their way, the excitement that usually burned every evening ebbed away as essays and revision began to make themselves known.

In the calm of the common room, George takes a seat on the familiar, comfortable red couch. Dropping your hand in favour for lounging across the expanse of worn, red leather.

"Come cuddle with me," George murmurs, his voice low in the quiet of the common room.

It only takes those words for you to fall into his arms; the weight of the day resting heavy on your shoulders as you curl yourself to fit into the comforting cocoon of his arms.

"What happened this morning?" He asks quietly.

"I don't know," You answer honestly. "One moment I felt fine, and the next I just felt so sad. All day I've been battling against tears for no particular reason, and it's dragging me down, George."

George's arms squeeze you tightly; keeping you held together as the familiar burn of tears begins to clog your throat and mist your eyes.

"I'm sorry, my love." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple, letting his lips rest there as he inhales the floral scent of your perfume. "What can I do to help?"

You shake your head. "Don't speak. Just... kiss me," You almost plead, desperate to feel something other than the overwhelming sadness that has encroached on you all day.

George doesn't hesitate. He holds you in his arms as his lips seek out yours; kissing you gently at first before applying more pressure as if the sensation of his kiss was enough to heal all the parts of you that was suffering with sadness. His hand cradles your cheek, thumb rubbing across your cheekbone as the first of your tears begin to fall. He doesn't offer you words of comfort. Instead, he keeps kissing you, letting you feel how present he is, how in love he is with every part of you.

He'll take the sadness with the happiness. After all, it's you.

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