Forget Me Not || George Weasley

Chapter 39

Olive does not remember telling George Weasley that she dreams of him.

She remembers little other than the feeling of warmth that spread over her every time she looked over her shoulder while jumping around with Ginny and Lee and Harry, and found brown eyes molten with something she couldn't quite place. Something that makes her arms break out in goosebumps as she writes down every little detail she could remember from the evening before.

Jackie was taking the day off, leaving Olive to nurse her hangover with a brand new flavor of ice cream she'd been working on for weeks. One that she was hoping a certain someone would stop by to try. It was unfortunately slow today, leaving Olive to turn up the music and dance around when she was certain customers wouldn't come in and see. She refrained from singing. She didn't want to scare off business. 

She decides to clean while she sways around behind the counter, though her mind quickly takes her to the night before. She may not remember telling George that she dreams of him. She does however remember doing just that. Dreaming him in her kitchen, his work trousers slung low on his hips and hinting at the lines that led to something different. She remembers walking to him, hearing him singing low and soft like he does at the pub when they get to dance together sometimes. He thinks she can't hear, or maybe he doesn't care. She likes it though, likes dancing close to him, seeing him in the rare dreams she remembers. Ones where he grabs her and kisses her like he means it, like he wants to be more than friends. Like the feelings she has aren't one sided. She doesn't think they are, she thinks George likes her as much as she likes him. She just doesn't remember what it feels like to be sure about it, to know when a man wants her. She can't remember that. At least Dream George wants her for sure. She can still see him in her kitchen, reaching out and saying her name, "Olive. Olive."

"Liv!"

She jumps, dropping her rag and whipping her head up so fast that her vision swims from the force. She makes out the person on the other side of the counter easily though. Her heart warms and once she comes back to reality she quickly says, "Nigel!"

He laughs, shaking his head as she recovers from the shock of seeing him. She quickly hurries from behind the counter, eager to be close to her friend again. When was the last time she'd seen him? August...no...She pinches her arm to focus, her smile growing when he flashes her a cheeky smile and opens his arms hopefully. Her hands shake with a sudden onset of anxiety, but she doesn't want to offend him. Nigel had been devastated when she first was released from St. Mungos and could hardly even look at him. He'd tried to touch her once to get her attention and she'd screamed so loud that people thought she was being hurt. Nigel was the kind of boy that liked affection, even when they'd just been friends at school they'd been touchy. She had liked it then too. But she didn't see him as much now, and that made it worse. Time, distance made her lose memories. 

It made her forget that she was capable of touching someone without being scared. 

She swallows down her nervousness and lifts the divider before hurrying around the counter and into his arms before she can talk herself out of it. She closes her eyes when his hands come to rest on her shoulders, his chin resting on her head as he mumbles, "Liv. I miss you."

"You don't have to miss me," Olive tilts her head up and smiles at her friend, "I'm right here." Her brows furrow slightly and then she tilts her head, asking curiously, "Why are you here? Where's Dennis?"

Nigel's smile fades slightly, but Olive is distracted by his words when he says lightly, "I finished my training in Paris. I thought I would surprise you, see how you were doing." His jaw tightens, voice lowering, "I tried to see Dennis. His flatmate said he was out."

"Oh," Olive frowns slightly. Guilt twists her stomach, and she has to resist tugging free from Nigel's arms to look at her planner. When was the last time she'd seen Dennis? Talked to him? Her heart aches and she chews anxiously on her lip, but when she sees that Nigel looks equally as downtrodden she perks up, saying cheerfully, "Congratulations, Nigel! I wish you'd owled, i would have made your favorite flavor--"