Forget Me Not || George Weasley

Chapter 44

{{a little steamy but nothing crazy!}}

Cold.

George shifts slightly, stirred awake by something odd. He was cold. His brow furrows slightly in confusion. He was usually hot when he slept, shoving blankets off of himself so that he didn't feel trapped. But today, he was fucking freezing.

He blinks his eyes open, instantly taken by the sight of flaxen hair splashed across his chest. His mouth lifts in a reluctant smile, spying the green flecks of glitter in her curls.

Olive's costume was slouched over a chair in the corner, leaving behind sparkles that he had a feeling he'd have a hard time getting rid of. Olive had cried when he begged her to stay last night, offering to sleep on the couch that she had glared at over their soup dinner. He'd dragged her to his room without much of a fight.

He stares down at her sleeping face, her cold cheek practically burning the skin of his chest through his shirt. But when he slides a hand down to brush his knuckles over her arm, her skin is warm. Realization grips him like panic. A cooling charm, wrapped up around her head. Worry nearly causes him to shake her awake, but he merely settles back down into the pillows. He slips his hand under the back of the shirt he'd lent her, still grazing her skin with his knuckles softly.

He's not sure how long he stays like that, just that he keeps his breathing shallow to avoid waking her. She was beautiful always, but he liked seeing her like this. Soft and dreaming of things he didn't know. Her scar stretches across her lips, puffy and pink from sleep and the late night snog that had him cursing O'Connor for agreeing that slow was best.

"Mmm," George freezes at her voice. She sighs, slurring sleepily, "That feels good."

He leans his head back, mouthing a thank you to the universe that he hadn't fucked up again. His fingers start up again, lightly stroking up and down while Olive nuzzles into his chest and lets out another happy sigh. He fights the urge to speak for as long as he can, finally whispering urgently, "Your head hurts."

Her lips quirk on the half of her face that he can see, his other hand coming up so that he can gently rub her cheek with his thumb. She yawns, still not opening her eyes, "Not anymore."

She reaches for her wand, likely to remove the cooling charm. He grabs his first, mumbling the incantation before tossing his wand onto his side table. Olive slings her arm over his chest, snuggling closer and melting the ice around his heart. Her skin slowly starts to warm up and George just continues gently rubbing the pads of his fingers up her spine, across her shoulder blades. He gulps silently, wondering why he'd decided to punish himself when he told her she didn't have to wear pants. He can just barely see the smooth curve of her backside below the low slung sheets, jaw clenching tightly.

He slowly shifts his eyes back to her golden hair, rubbing his fingers through it and smiling when they get tangled in her curls. Ollie groans quietly, sending a wave of heat to his lower belly that causes him to exhale harshly through his nose. Her body shifts, pressing closer to him and twining their legs together. George freezes when she pauses, bumping against something he'd been trying desperately to prevent.

"George?" There's already laughter in her voice, his cheeks surely stained red as he groans and mumbles an awkward apology. He glares at her mischievous smile when her eyes slowly open and she tilts her head up to look at him, saying cheekily, "I'm flattered."

His briefs are uncomfortably tight, even more so when she tips her head back and laughs with the light catching her hair and field green eyes. She smothers her grin with her hand, looking away from him only to glance back and ask, "What?"

George swallows slowly, blinking at her and trying to force away the warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest. His fingers pause on her warm back, voice quiet, "I like waking up to you, Ollie."