If You'll Have Me | George Weasley

Chapter 25

THE OFFICE DOOR was cracked open, and a sliver of light shimmied its way out into the hallway where Eleanor stood, dumfounded, and humiliated, so much to the point where the words that she'd so desperately searched for fell flat.

The letter had already been read by both of them, and undoubtedly, the best place to start would've been what they were both anticipating anyhow; The ending of whatever this was between, or the delay of it.

She was hardly sure that she was ready to have this conversation with him, and then decided that she never would be.

Regardless, Eleanor lightly taps her knuckles against the wooden door, gently pushing it open with each soft knock. Through the sliver of the cracked door, Elle sees him glance up from the drawer he had been rummaging through as if to keep himself busy, or simply make himself look the part.

He does not invite her in, not with words, anyway. But something flickers behind those green eyes, something that beckons her to take one step into his office, and freeze in front of the old desk that he was sitting at.

There was no right way to begin this conversation. She could be hysterical, if she had no willpower and did not care about making herself look like a fool, but George looked calm. Collected. The best thing that she could do was try to maintain her composure, despite how quickly it was diminishing.

"How are you?" She asks.

Immediately, she hates the way that it sounds; That she was asking something that should have had such a clear answer when there were so many other things that she wanted to say. Not yet. She wanted to attempt to read him first, or gain a sense of what he was thinking, but right now, she could do neither.

George leans back in his seat, keeping a hand close to his chin, like he too was trying to bite back whatever words were trying to force their way out. His jaw clenches, like he was choosing his words carefully before saying, "I don't know." She is sure that it is a lie.

Though she cannot tell what he is thinking, she can see a tinge of sadness in his face. A swarm of unspoken thoughts behind those eyes that were looking through her, not at her, like she was not even really there.

She could understand his frustration, if that was what he even felt. Her blood was boiling as she read her mother's note in the way that she would have said it in person; So condescendingly, so thoughtlessly... So opposite of the way that George spoke; Softly and charismatically, without ever expecting the same in return.

Eleanor takes a step closer to him, searching for that same kindness in his face, waiting for him to give in and send just a glance her way, but when he doesn't, she sits upon the edge of his desk. More often than not, his energy was infectious when he was happy, but now, it was a chilling feeling, like all of that had been sucked clean from the room. From the curve of his mouth. The creases by his eyes and lips when they'd curl into a smile.

"How are you?" George asks suddenly.

He was looking at his lap now, smoothing out the creases in his jeans, as if he was too fixated on the task to even bother to glance up at her, or to listen to her response like it was something that he wanted to hear. She could not blame him for not bothering to pretend.

But still, so selflessly like he always had been, he asked about her. That said something.

Though she had been taken off guard, she begins to formulate some half-true response, something to lift the heaviness, the tension between them, but she cannot overlook the glossiness in his eyes. It is enough to make her heart swell and ache for him.

"I'm sorry." Is all that she can think to say, and he continues to smooth out the creases in his jeans that weren't even there, knitting his eyebrows together like the shakiness in her voice was hurting him. "I... I've loved every minute that I've spent with you, and coming here was perhaps the best decision that I've ever made, and I... I wish that I didn't have to leave." Her voice falters, and the words that follow finally cause her to crack, and a tear to roll down her cheek. "I don't want to leave you."