Sunflower - George Weasley
Hello and welcome to a new George fic! This one was requested by my dear friend @through-the-little-door as part of my 500 Follower Celebration. It is inspired by Sunflower, Vol. 6 by Harry Styles!
As beautiful the ceremony was, you simply needed a break from Bill and Fleur’s wedding. The music was loud, there were so many people you were beginning to feel a little claustrophobic, and honestly, you needed a moment to breath more than anything.
You slipped out of the beautiful tent in the front yard of the Burrow and immediately breathed a sigh of relief as the cool night air fanned against your skin. You glanced behind you for just a moment, to make sure no one was following you from the reception, and quickly slipped through the yard and into the Weasley’s house, where it was far quieter and still.
The music still pulsated from the tent, into the beautifully odd home, but at a much more calming level, almost like background noise.
You knew the house like the back of your hand from the summers and holidays you spent with the Weasleys. Ever since you were born, your parents were close friends with the Weasleys. You were born the same year as their twins, Fred and George, and it quickly became as if you were triplets, rather than from two different families.
Over your time in Hogwarts, you fell madly in love with George. It was no secret, in fact, it was well known. From years four through seven, actually, George and you were a couple. But after he absconded from Hogwarts with his twin, and you began working for a rather large wizarding bank in France, your relationship fizzled and you amicably split from one another.
In fact, this was the second time in the last year and a half that you saw the twins. The first time, you came to their shop with bright smiles to catch up with them, and you ended up staying an entire week, rekindling your relationship with George and spending time with Fred.
Now, as you saw you beautiful best friend, missing an ear and all, dressed in a suit with purple detailing, which you quickly realized was most definitely the best color on him, you felt breathless. All the old emotions you held came back, the love, lust, and pure adoration. You missed your George more than anything.
You had come bearing news that you applied for and was offered a job working in Gringotts, but the moment you saw George, you couldn’t remember your own name, let alone anything you wanted to tell him. You spent the entirety of the night doing your best to keep your distance from him, because you knew all too well that if you were around him long enough, you wouldn’t leave his side again. You couldn’t do that to him, not again. Your past with George was sweet in your memory, something you’d never forget.
A sad smile remained on your lips as you poured yourself a glass of water and leaned on the kitchen counter of your second home. As you sipped your water, your eyes wandered into the front yard, past the tent, to the large sunflowers growing in the distance. You were so focused on the scenery, you almost failed to hear the backdoor of the home opening and closing quickly. Your smile faded into a frown as you remained still, hoping it was just Molly needed to get something further for the ceremony.
Your hopes were diminished as George peaked into the kitchen, head wrapped in bandages and a smirk on his lips. “I thought I saw you sneaking off here. Meeting your boyfriend, or something?” His voice was teasing as he fully stepped into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets.
George had lost his jacket at some point in the night, and he was left in a purple button down and a purple waistcoat, and he was absolutely dashing. Gently, you smirked and set the glass on the counter. “Yeah, actually. Seems he’s just in time,” you quipped in return, causing him to chuckle as he walked around the long table and sat on it, facing you.
“Mum tells me you’re moving back to town. More specifically, Diagon Alley?” George raised an eyebrow as he spoke.
With flushed cheeks, you nodded. “Moved in just two weeks ago.” Your fingers played with the hem of your dress in an effort to keep calm.
George shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m quite disappointed in you,” he muttered in a condescending voice. “You’ve been here two weeks, on the same bloody street as me, and haven’t come to visit me once? I thought you were my best friend, love.”
The look in his eyes broke your heart, to say the least. His voice was teasing to you, but he was truly disappointed, you could see it. You bit your lip and ducked your head as you nodded once more. “Well, if I’m being quite honest, Georgie, I didn’t come see you because I was afraid I wouldn’t leave again,” you admitted quietly as you refused to look him in his eyes.
You didn’t want to see the look that formed on his face. It broke both of your hearts the first time you separated, shortly after you graduated from Hogwarts, and it broke them both again when you left his apartment to return to France. You couldn’t bear the heartbreak again, his or yours.
George stood from the table and approached you slowly. His calloused fingertips ran along your cheek before he took your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes searched his face, serene and flushed. The bandage wrapped around his head partially held a bit of his hair down, ad puffed up the rest, but you still loved every bit of him. “Is that so bad?” His voice was quiet as his hand moved to cup your face, his lips looming close.
There, George kissed you in the kitchen, his lips gentle against yours. You had kissed those same lips a thousand times before, and the feeling of them against yours was engraved in your memory.
As you broke apart, a wicked smile was on George’s lips and a gentle smile on yours. “Georgie, will you give me another try?” You asked him in a husky voice as your hands rested on his chest.
George smirked, peppering kisses across your cheek and to your neck. “Love, I couldn’t want you any more than I do now.” His lips let yours again, his arms moving from your face to wrap around your waist, pulling your body to him as you giggled gently.
A blissful smile remained on your face as you draped your arms around George, careful not to bump his missing ear, and you rested your head on his shoulder. Gently, you allowed George to sway back and forth off rhythm to the music from the tent, as if the Weasley kitchen was a dance floor.
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