Forget Me Not || George Weasley

Chapter 49

George's nose crinkles, a weary groan slowly sounding from his chest.

He presses his lips together, confused for a moment by the lump in his bed, used to a rather firm mattress. His fingers flex, limbs heavy with pleasant exhaustion. His mind struggles for a moment to wake up, but that persistent lump is only hurrying the process along. His eyes suddenly fly open, the smell of raspberries hitting his nose and smacking him with realization. He lifts his head from his pillow, glancing down and finding a mess of flaxen curls tickling his collarbone.

A slow grin works its way onto his face when he realizes that he's practically smothering Olive, his body covering the length of her's. Her rib cage bumps him with every shallow inhale, her hips digging into his thigh. He hurriedly lifts up on one hand, concerned at the prospect of crushing her. He winces at a sudden sting, her fingernails digging lightly into his back. His cheeks ache from the force of his smile when a mumble slurred with sleep sounds from below, "Quit."

"Ollie," George laughs softly, still propped up on one hand, "I'm going to crush you."

"No," She moans dramatically. She slips her arm out from under him, pulling insistently at his wrist until he's forced to settle his weight back down onto her small frame. She smiles softly, eyes still closed, "I want you to."

George feels his breathing stutter when she winds her legs loosely around the backs of his, trapping him against her while she whispers sleepily, "I like it. You're warm."

He bites down hard on his lip, stifling a groan when the arch of her foot brushes over his calf. She's so soft, so pliant and sweet. His head drops down to his pillow, a helpless moan leaving him when her nails drag lightly down his back, "Ollie."

Her laughter is light, distracting him from the discomfort growing beneath his briefs. He shifts slightly, reluctantly caving to her weird desire to be smushed and fully relaxing into her. Olive hums and he lets out a grunt of surprise when he feels a sudden sting on his bicep. He squints one eye, peering down at her teeth pinching his arm with a gruff warning, "Careful."

She smiles mischievously, tilting her head up to show off the green he was growing unfortunately fond of. George wedges his hands underneath her, sneaking down until he can grab her arse. Hard. Olive grimaces at the contact, nose crinkling as she mutters, "Okay, I didn't bite you that hard."

George smirks and burrows his face into her soft hair, still kneading the muscles of her backside as best he can in their current position. A sigh escapes him when her hips raise against his, eyes growing heavy and forcing him to turn his head and catch her lips in a lazy kiss. A sound from the back of her throat spreads a blanket of pleasure over him, her mouth opening just enough for him to run his tongue along the inside of her lower lip. He pulls back enough to speak, his lips brushing hers as he whispers throatily, "You're here."

He knows he should be embarrassed. It's a strange thing to announce, to vocalize the surreal feeling that is seeping into his bones. Here. Ollie is here, wrapped up and sweeter than sugar. She is here in his bed, in his room. She was here, and he wasn't panicking even though he could picture stumbling from the room and running into his smug twin, he could imagine punching Fred in the arm and muttering for him to be quiet so as not to wake the ice cream witch. He could picture all of that, he could miss all of that. Olive was here for all of that. She was here. 

Olive blinks up at him, her lips puffy and pink from his own. Her scar looks like a sliver of light, her face cracked like porcelain to reveal that her insides are simply full of pure, golden rays of sunshine, sunshine streaming from that scar, from her lips in the form of laughter and smiles and whispers of his name. Her lips twitch slightly, the movement causing his own to tingle from where they barely touch.