[Merlin, you can't -- she can't bloody do that -- sit there looking so damn hurt, and sincere, and longing for something he can't give her. Fuck all, he can't even give it to himself. Selfish to the core, brash and straight forward with no filter and absolutely no sense of restraint save for but this one thing, this one seemingly simple thing. Because it's not simple. It's so much more than just a mutual fascination, or the homey feeling he gets when they're with Luca, or the easy back and forth between them that fell in place without them even trying. It's more than that.
It's the adrenaline rush after a good flying lesson. It's the triumph of Luca spelling a word all on his own. It's the bright moment when they're bickering about nothing and laughing about everything and Fred thinks he'd quite like to stay like that forever -- only for those brief bouts of excitement and glee to fade away and leave them here, sitting right next to each other but worlds apart. Lifetimes apart, because Fred is still convinced this isn't his life.
Because Ronald is his little brother and he'd either have to be blind or daft not to know of the bond that's between them. Because Hermione is his friend, his little sister in all the years he's watched over the three little troublemakers. Because he is dead, and no matter what he does or says or feels, nothing will change that, any of that, and they will always end up back here.]
Hermione, I--.
['I,' what? 'I'm sorry?' 'I'm a bloody idiot?' What could he possibly say? It'd be so easy not to say anything at all, to just walk away now, or better yet, to follow his usual tendencies and bugger the consequences, just go after what he wants like a bullet on a path and Merlin be with anyone that happens to get in the way. But for once, for quite possibly the first time, Fred doesn't just jump in head first without a second of forethought. For once, he is considering the consequences, and what admitting that the kiss was so much more than just the draw of the curse would do to the both of them.
He's thinking ahead, and inwardly cursing himself for it - he knows he'll be thanking himself later, but Hell if he'll be glad for it.
There's a huff that turns into a humourless sort of laugh as he shakes his head. So bloody ridiculous, the lot of it, and isn't this why he's never bothered with relationships to begin with? He turns to her again, a playful smile on his lips (it's false, so bloody false but he's had years to perfect it).]
I don't know what else it could be, love. You aren't exactly my first today.
LMFAO y e p idek what my heart is doing rn I just have all the sads.
It's the adrenaline rush after a good flying lesson. It's the triumph of Luca spelling a word all on his own. It's the bright moment when they're bickering about nothing and laughing about everything and Fred thinks he'd quite like to stay like that forever -- only for those brief bouts of excitement and glee to fade away and leave them here, sitting right next to each other but worlds apart. Lifetimes apart, because Fred is still convinced this isn't his life.
Because Ronald is his little brother and he'd either have to be blind or daft not to know of the bond that's between them. Because Hermione is his friend, his little sister in all the years he's watched over the three little troublemakers. Because he is dead, and no matter what he does or says or feels, nothing will change that, any of that, and they will always end up back here.]
Hermione, I--.
['I,' what? 'I'm sorry?' 'I'm a bloody idiot?' What could he possibly say? It'd be so easy not to say anything at all, to just walk away now, or better yet, to follow his usual tendencies and bugger the consequences, just go after what he wants like a bullet on a path and Merlin be with anyone that happens to get in the way. But for once, for quite possibly the first time, Fred doesn't just jump in head first without a second of forethought. For once, he is considering the consequences, and what admitting that the kiss was so much more than just the draw of the curse would do to the both of them.
He's thinking ahead, and inwardly cursing himself for it - he knows he'll be thanking himself later, but Hell if he'll be glad for it.
There's a huff that turns into a humourless sort of laugh as he shakes his head. So bloody ridiculous, the lot of it, and isn't this why he's never bothered with relationships to begin with? He turns to her again, a playful smile on his lips (it's false, so bloody false but he's had years to perfect it).]
I don't know what else it could be, love. You aren't exactly my first today.