Bad Decisions | Fred Weasley

Thirty-One: Carnal Remains

Molly cut Sylvia's hair in the kitchen by the back door, asking her with every snip if she really wanted to cut that much off. And still, when she finished, the floor was dusted with long ribbons of black hair — save for one white curl, scattered like feathers that were swept away by the charmed broom and dustpan.

"Thank you." Sylvia said, raking her fingers through the short layers that just brushed the tops of her shoulders.

Fred dragged Ginny's trunk down the stairs with a heavy thump on each step. He got all the way to the front door before he paused, doing a double take as he glanced into the kitchen, "You've cut all your bloody hair off again!"

"You watch that mouth of yours," Molly scolded, skittering out of the kitchen, "and don't criticize my barber skills if you know what's good for you."

This made Sylvie chew on her lips to keep from laughing, lifting onto her toes to check her reflection in the clock on the wall. Fred got the trunk out the door and ran to the kitchen, stepping in front of her and holding out the ends of her hair. His brows were furrowed and his nose scrunched a bit as he narrowed his eyes, leaning forward to say, "You look fantastic," before pecking her quickly on the lips.

"We'll be back by dinner, alright?" Molly fussed, kissing Fred on the cheek, "And you," she addressed George, following him with her finger, "don't be filling the car with any unnecessary bits now. Ginny's crammed it with enough already."

George wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow, holding his hands up in defense, just as Ginny scoffed an accused, "Hey!" at her mother.

"Are you sure you don't want us to come help?" Sylvia asked tentatively, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"God no," George looked absolutely taken aback, "I am not having the likes of you two canoodling while I try and take care of business. Verity'll be there anyways. And god knows she's probably packed the whole joint up by now."

Sylvia liked Verity, even though no one else seemed to. She reminded her of herself.

"Ok well, be careful." She said earnestly, nodding her head. George widened his eyes and said sarcastically, "You be careful," cracking a smile.

She and Fred stood on the front steps and watched the Ford Anglia take off, Arthur sticking his hand out the window to wave as he honked the horn. They waited a second, Sylvia's hands behind her back and Fred's in his pockets. He eyed her, raking over her body as if he could undress her with his gaze. When he turned her head with his finger against her jaw and he tasted her lips, he realized he had been starving.

He laid her down on the kitchen table and lifted her skirt up too kiss her thighs. Her legs draped over his shoulders and he held onto her waist like she could slip away at any moment. The only things keeping him lucid were her fingers in his hair, pulling at his roots whenever he did something she liked.

"Do you want to know what you taste like?" He asked her.

Her cheeks were rosy and glowing like she'd been dipped in honey and her eyelashes fluttered when she nodded her head. Fred thought he'd never seen something so achingly beautiful. It almost pained him to look at her, but it would be torture to look away. He kissed her and her lips were warm and soft and her tongue fit perfectly against his.

She flipped over so she was bent over the table and let out soft breaths as he lifted her shirt off and kissed the freckles of her bare shoulder and down every vertebrae of her spine. Her fingernails dug into the wood and she closed her eyes as he rubbed his cock against her.

He could hardly hear her moans over the heartbeat in his ears. He put his hand on her neck and lifted her back towards him so he could kiss her and feel her voice in her throat. She told him to pull on her hair and dig his fingers into her hips and he told her she felt so good and that he was going to come.

She rolled over again and pulled him down on top of her so their bodies covered the entire table, crossing her ankles behind him and holding his face in her hands. He pushed all the way into her until he couldn't go any further and felt his head get so heavy he had to rest it against hers.

"Come inside me." She said.

Fred reached a hand down and rubbed over her clit in circles and she nearly screamed, closing her eyes and pushing her head back into the table. He brushed the hair from her forehead and pressed his cheek against hers when they finished.

"It was never like this with other people." He said into her neck.

She shook her head, a small smile turning her lips up, "Never."

His hand found hers then, fingers between fingers so they could be as close as possible, and he dreaded the moment he'd have to let go.

Sylvia sat on the counter by the sink and stared at the kitchen table as Fred made her cheese toast.

"Here," he said, holding the toast up for her to take a bite before taking one himself. He held it in his mouth, going back to make another, and all Sylvia could think about was how ridiculous it was that someone could look so attractive while eating cheese toast. The way his jaw moved sent beautifully dull pains to her chest and made her stomach do cartwheels.

"How are you so bloody handsome?" She asked, receiving an amused smile from Fred, his tongue pressing against his cheek when he swallowed and his eyebrows raising as his shoulders shook with a breathy giggle.

"I'm serious," she said, "I don't think I've ever looked at someone and just wanted to throw myself at them before."

He presented her with another toastie, upon a plate this time, and leaned with his palm flat against the counter beside her, his tongue pressing against the back of his teeth as he grinned.

"Well don't stop there," he teased, watching her eat, "I could listen to you tell me how handsome I am all day."

"And I could go on all day," she said through a full mouth, sucking butter off the tip of her thumb, "and through the night and probably for the next ten years straight, each minute of the day, I could tell you how every atom in your body drives me crazy."

His smile softened, his eyes shifting between hers as he let out a small, content sigh, placing a hand on her cheek to kiss her softly. She hummed a small laugh and gave him another peck before resting her head back against the cupboard.

"You know," she took another bite and looked up to the ceiling in thought, "the first time we kissed was during a spin the bottle game."

Fred rested a hand on her thigh, thumb running back and forth over the fabric of her skirt. She met his gaze again and swallowed.

"You were pretty mortified to be kissing me, I bet."

He shook his head and found his voice much quieter than he intended, "I wanted to kiss you again, in the broom closet."

"Ahh, seven minutes in heaven. I left you in there, didn't I?"

"I kept flirting with you, remember? I even got detention on purpose so I could spend more time with you."

She laughed, "I'd never had someone flirt with me before. I didn't know that's what you were doing."

He smiled and kissed her again, moving to stand between her legs as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She felt a warmth so intense in her heart, it almost made her cry. It was too perfect, the way his hands sat on her hips, the smell of his skin, how his shirt hung on his body, the pale shell of his ears, the way his lips always kissed that some spot on her neck, just below her ear, where her jaw met her neck, like it was all made for her.