Mischief Managed || Fred Weasley

10

Cherry was upset, she was devastated, she couldn't wrap her head around what had just happened, and the thoughts of emptiness and the negative energy seeped into her mind, screaming at her, infiltrating every single corner and blocking out all other sound in the room, even the light music playing in her earbuds as background music as Cherry cried and rocked back and forth with her face in her arms that were wrapped around herself, clinging onto to herself tight, because she was the only thing that was there for herself, the only thing she knew was real and there, even though she wasn't sure if that was staying much then anymore either.

It almost hit Fleur as much as it had hit Cherry, both of them sitting with there heads in their knees, sobbing as quietly they could, shaking and sputtering, squeezing every last bit of pain inside dry, like a lemon, one that hadn't been rolled on it's side before being cut open and squeezed, crying it out, letting all of it out, like throwing up sour blood, thinking over and over, like a broken television that wouldn't stop playing static even after you pulled the plug.

She rocked back and forth, migrated onto the floor, her back sliding down against the bottom of the red couch. Reaching up to wipe her face, her hand accidentally hit the wine glass on the coffee table, knocking it over and hitting the hard wood floor, the wine spilling onto the carpet next to it, making a little clinking sounds as it hit the floor.

Cherry's eyesight was so blurred by the stinging of the salty tears in them that she almost didn't even notice the dark red seeping into the carpet, staining the white into a maroon, and she didn't even notice the figure that had just stood by the entrance of the boy's dormitories, slowly walking towards the pink haired girl leaning against the couch, as if trying not to startle her.

Cherry heard the footsteps, finally wiped her eyes and looked up at the red haired boy, the better twin, she'd thought earlier that week, come sit by next to her on the floor in front of the couch, careful to not step onto the spilled wine on the carpet.

Before Fred could even ask the question, Cherry sharply exhaled, "I'm okay, Fred. Trust me."

"No you're not," he replied, putting one of this hands on her face, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from her eyes. Without moving from his spot on the floor, he spotted the fallen wine glass on the floor and leaned over to pick it up, remembering to the time he had found her drunk in her dorm room, smelling of alcohol and cigarette smoke. He set it on the coffee table and said, "You shouldn't drink so much love, it's not good for you." Cherry ignored him, just sniffed and wiped her tear streaked face and rubbed her wet red eyes.

He looked genuinely concerned, he had seen Cherry numerous times with an alcoholic drink in her hand, and where she got it from? He had no idea. But last week, when she was sitting by the window sill, nearly drunk, he was close enough to smell it on her breath, trying to take pictures, and he'd walked in on her. He'd also seen the cigarette ashes on the brick of the window, and assumed she'd thrown it out the window.

Bringing her a bit closer, Cherry leaned into his arms, like it was an automatic reaction to him almost, letting the pain release from herself and disparate into the air, melting away like snow on a warm winter day. It was like a chemical reaction, the two together, on the floor, leaning against the couch, one crying and the other comforting. What had made her like this? he'd thought, comforting the pink haired girl that leaned into him now.

They just stayed like that for a few minutes, rocking back and forth, slowing down to a stop before Cherry wiped her face with Fred's shirt sleeve one last time before reaching up and taking one of her earbuds and handing it to the red head, who gladly accepted it and put it in his ear.

He listened to the song for a few minutes, and whispered, "That's pretty gay," and the two burst out into quiet rings of laughter, not wanting to wake up the other people in the dorms this late at night.