She sends Molly messages everyday, asking her if Georgeisallright, ifGeorgeisgettingbetter and though she knows that she's foolish to expect more, she can't help but hope. After all, what is there left for her, for... them?
In the following year, the Weasley matriarch finally answers yes.
iii.
Springtime: she's missed it and it feel as though she's waited for forever. When it arrives, she tells herself that she can't wish for things. Not too much or else she'll be disappointed.
When the door opens, George Weasley is rushing into the cafe - twenty minutes late - and he brightens up at the sight of her and the corners of his mouth drift upwards.
"I got lost, the university is huge." Sitting down across from her, he observes her pretty face. Pity he has never noticed how delicate her features are. He looks at her hand, she's stirring a purple drink. What is it exactly? Aside from her preferences in beverages, it strikes him that he does not know anything about her. He's never asked her about her life. Their exchanges have always revolved around her giving him tea and bread, especially during that dreadful week at school when the students, staff and parents gathered together in the Great Hall to clean up the remains and the skeleton of Hogwarts. "How are you?"
She opens her mouth, shuts it with hesitation. Her head is tilted sideways. Her fingers are making an upward movement, drawing small ticks in the air as she tells him about a) her sister, who's giggling behind the counter (see? there she is), but cries at night thinking about flicks of green light, b) her parents' discussions, involving plans to uproot outside of Great Britain and c) herself? She's doing quite fine, thank you for your concern.
Knowing that she saw her friends - her near family - murdered, she doesn't see any tears.
Maybe she's the type of person who compartmentalizes, he thinks jealously. Maybe.
They meet on a weekly basis, in different restaurants and coffee shops every Thursday afternoon.
Padma believes that if everything in the world changes, they should follow suit. (His favourite location is by the seaside, because her laugh rivals that of the waves.) By the fourth month, she's sobbing. He listens in return, because nobody can bottle up that much inside and not share.
It'll kill her, almost as it had done to him.
ii.
And of all the people who are meant to help him, she certainly isn't supposed to be his saviour. Then again, normality hasn't been his friend for his last five lifetimes.
i.
Every time George sees Padma, he greets her with a hug and a peck on her temple. When he accidentally plants his lips on hers during one summer, she frowns at how unapologetic he seems!
She steps back at first. Staring at him with an indecipherable look. But soon, oh but not too soon, her hand is on his collar (she does this a lot); with her voice sharp as a needle, she leans forward and tells him, "Good, because I like you. Very much."
He smirks at the fact that she doesn't say any fancy words (isn't her house famous for those?), merely this.
But who's complaining? It's plenty enough to give you this fluttering sensation in your stomach and it's plenty enough to make him kiss her again.
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timeasmymeasure
tunes that tie us together (t, with triggers for war-related ptsd) (2/2)
Date: 2011-08-09 04:29 pm (UTC)iv.
She sends Molly messages everyday, asking her if Georgeisallright, ifGeorgeisgettingbetter and though she knows that she's foolish to expect more, she can't help but hope. After all, what is there left for her, for... them?
In the following year, the Weasley matriarch finally answers yes.
iii.
Springtime: she's missed it and it feel as though she's waited for forever. When it arrives, she tells herself that she can't wish for things. Not too much or else she'll be disappointed.
When the door opens, George Weasley is rushing into the cafe - twenty minutes late - and he brightens up at the sight of her and the corners of his mouth drift upwards.
"I got lost, the university is huge." Sitting down across from her, he observes her pretty face. Pity he has never noticed how delicate her features are. He looks at her hand, she's stirring a purple drink. What is it exactly? Aside from her preferences in beverages, it strikes him that he does not know anything about her. He's never asked her about her life. Their exchanges have always revolved around her giving him tea and bread, especially during that dreadful week at school when the students, staff and parents gathered together in the Great Hall to clean up the remains and the skeleton of Hogwarts. "How are you?"
She opens her mouth, shuts it with hesitation. Her head is tilted sideways. Her fingers are making an upward movement, drawing small ticks in the air as she tells him about a) her sister, who's giggling behind the counter (see? there she is), but cries at night thinking about flicks of green light, b) her parents' discussions, involving plans to uproot outside of Great Britain and c) herself? She's doing quite fine, thank you for your concern.
Knowing that she saw her friends - her near family - murdered, she doesn't see any tears.
Maybe she's the type of person who compartmentalizes, he thinks jealously. Maybe.
They meet on a weekly basis, in different restaurants and coffee shops every Thursday afternoon.
Padma believes that if everything in the world changes, they should follow suit. (His favourite location is by the seaside, because her laugh rivals that of the waves.) By the fourth month, she's sobbing. He listens in return, because nobody can bottle up that much inside and not share.
It'll kill her, almost as it had done to him.
ii.
And of all the people who are meant to help him, she certainly isn't supposed to be his saviour. Then again, normality hasn't been his friend for his last five lifetimes.
i.
Every time George sees Padma, he greets her with a hug and a peck on her temple. When he accidentally plants his lips on hers during one summer, she frowns at how unapologetic he seems!
She steps back at first. Staring at him with an indecipherable look. But soon, oh but not too soon, her hand is on his collar (she does this a lot); with her voice sharp as a needle, she leans forward and tells him, "Good, because I like you. Very much."
He smirks at the fact that she doesn't say any fancy words (isn't her house famous for those?), merely this.
But who's complaining? It's plenty enough to give you this fluttering sensation in your stomach and it's plenty enough to make him kiss her again.
This time he feels her grin.
FIN.