Leigh!fic- Never Alone (1/1)- George Weasley/Luna Lovegood
Title: Never Alone (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: George Weasley/Luna Lovegood
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 498
Summary: "She always wanted you."
Author’s Notes: First-place winner of this week challenge at sortinghatdrabs. Pairing was George Weasley/Luna Lovegood, and the prompt was "Plan B." There were some really excellent drabbles this week, and I'm honored that my drabble was liked!
A cool breeze blew through the night, bringing an uncommon chill to the air as it made the long blades of grass wave to and fro. The little cemetery in Ottery St. Catchpole was mostly quiet, and the only discernible disruption was the sound of swishing liquids and the clinking of a glass against stone.
George Weasley sat in the darkness, his back against the cool, marble headstone as he took another shot of Firewhiskey. There was an old wives tale that it was bad luck to step- or sit- on a grave, but honestly? His luck couldn't get any fucking worse.
"I shouldn't have done it," he slurred as he let his head fall back with a soft thunk. "She didn't want me, she wanted you." He poured another shot and threw it back, enjoying the way the alcohol burned its way down his throat. It was proof that he could still feel something.
"She always wanted you," he whispered in the darkness.
If he'd been sober, he wouldn't have done it. Angelina was one of his oldest friends, and she'd been Fred's. Never his. But the alcohol had clouded his judgment and made him forget about his inhibitions. Her legs had felt so good wrapped around his waist, and her breasts had fit perfectly in his hands. But when she'd cried out his dead twin's name as she came?
It'd been like an instant dosage of Sober-Up potion.
"'M always plan B," he slurred, forgoing the glass altogether as he took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. He reached up, fingers brushing over the neat hole where his ear used to be. It tingled occasionally, and sometimes George liked to think that it was Fred's way of communicating with him. But really, it just served as a constant reminder that he would never really be whole again.
As if he could forget.
The sound of footsteps permeated his drunken consciousness, and he squinted into the darkness to see if he could figure out who'd deigned to interrupt his pity fest. "Who'sat?"
"Hello, George Weasley," a lilting voice said from the shadow.
It took a bit of concentrating, but he eventually matched a voice with the lithe figure he could see. "Luna? What're you doing here?"
"I came to visit my mum," the blonde replied as she emerged from the shadows and sat down in front of him, crossing her legs under her long peasant skirt. "She likes the flowers of the night-blooming mallowsweet, so I like to bring her some. It helps her reads the stars better, you know?"
George rolled his gaze to hers, blinking in confusion. "Your mum's dead. She can't see the stars."
"Of course she's here," Luna replied in that airy voice of hers. "The dead never really leave us, don't you agree?"
He shook his head. "The dead are gone. They can't come back."
Luna just smiled her serene smile and said, "Then why does your ear still tingle?"
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: George Weasley/Luna Lovegood
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 498
Summary: "She always wanted you."
Author’s Notes: First-place winner of this week challenge at sortinghatdrabs. Pairing was George Weasley/Luna Lovegood, and the prompt was "Plan B." There were some really excellent drabbles this week, and I'm honored that my drabble was liked!
A cool breeze blew through the night, bringing an uncommon chill to the air as it made the long blades of grass wave to and fro. The little cemetery in Ottery St. Catchpole was mostly quiet, and the only discernible disruption was the sound of swishing liquids and the clinking of a glass against stone.
George Weasley sat in the darkness, his back against the cool, marble headstone as he took another shot of Firewhiskey. There was an old wives tale that it was bad luck to step- or sit- on a grave, but honestly? His luck couldn't get any fucking worse.
"I shouldn't have done it," he slurred as he let his head fall back with a soft thunk. "She didn't want me, she wanted you." He poured another shot and threw it back, enjoying the way the alcohol burned its way down his throat. It was proof that he could still feel something.
"She always wanted you," he whispered in the darkness.
If he'd been sober, he wouldn't have done it. Angelina was one of his oldest friends, and she'd been Fred's. Never his. But the alcohol had clouded his judgment and made him forget about his inhibitions. Her legs had felt so good wrapped around his waist, and her breasts had fit perfectly in his hands. But when she'd cried out his dead twin's name as she came?
It'd been like an instant dosage of Sober-Up potion.
"'M always plan B," he slurred, forgoing the glass altogether as he took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. He reached up, fingers brushing over the neat hole where his ear used to be. It tingled occasionally, and sometimes George liked to think that it was Fred's way of communicating with him. But really, it just served as a constant reminder that he would never really be whole again.
As if he could forget.
The sound of footsteps permeated his drunken consciousness, and he squinted into the darkness to see if he could figure out who'd deigned to interrupt his pity fest. "Who'sat?"
"Hello, George Weasley," a lilting voice said from the shadow.
It took a bit of concentrating, but he eventually matched a voice with the lithe figure he could see. "Luna? What're you doing here?"
"I came to visit my mum," the blonde replied as she emerged from the shadows and sat down in front of him, crossing her legs under her long peasant skirt. "She likes the flowers of the night-blooming mallowsweet, so I like to bring her some. It helps her reads the stars better, you know?"
George rolled his gaze to hers, blinking in confusion. "Your mum's dead. She can't see the stars."
"Of course she's here," Luna replied in that airy voice of hers. "The dead never really leave us, don't you agree?"
He shook his head. "The dead are gone. They can't come back."
Luna just smiled her serene smile and said, "Then why does your ear still tingle?"