A/N: I don't own anything. And I'm going back to writing sad stories. I wrote a few really funny ones, but I think I'm better at writing sad ones. Sorry if my fics are too sad for you. This is how I think George was after Fred died. You might have different ideas, but don't hate. No one likes haters. Review because that will make me love you :)
I stare into the mirror every day and watch the tears fall down my face. Everytime I look at myself, I see you, Fred. Everytime I talk, I hear you, Fred. Everytime I think about you, I think about why wasn't it me. Why did I get off so easy? Physically, I lost nothing but an ear, but on the inside, I lost everything. I lost you, Fred. You're my other half. Without you, I am nothing. Without you, I am lost.
I hear someone knock on the door, so I dry my tears and answer it. "Angelina?" I say surprised.
"Hi, George," she replies with a sad smile. I know that she can tell I've been crying.
"Come in," I tell her. "Want some tea?"
"That'd be great," she answers.
She sits on the couch, and I walk to the kitchen to make some tea. I look at the picture of our family and think about you. Has it really been three months that I've been living without you? Will it ever be easier? Will there ever come a day when I look at myself and not cry? Will I ever be not so lost? The tea kettle screaches, and I pour the hot water into some cups and add tea bags. I take the tea out to Angelina and give her a cup. She smiles and thanks me, and we sit in silence for a few minutes.
"George," she says after a while. I look up and stare at her. She's so beautiful, and I know I love her. I also know that you loved her. I have no right to love something that you once loved. "George, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I lie.
"George, tell me the truth."
"I'm fine."
"George, stop lying to me," she commands.
"Fine! Of course I'm not freaking fine! I'm so freaking lost right now, and I have no freaking clue what to do! I feel like everyday, I lose more and more of the person I used to be! I don't know what to do! I miss him so much, and it's hard not to want to die to. Maybe if I died, I would be with him!" I explode. I yell and scream and act like I'm two years old, but I don't care. I need to let it out. I've keep all this anger and hurt inside that it all bursts out.
"George," she says walking over and holding me. I hold onto her tight because she's the only thing that holds me to this world. She's the only thing that keeps me from going insane. "Fred wouldn't want this."
"How do you know what Fred wants?" I yell at her.
"Because I knew him, and so did you. You know he doesn't want this."
"I don't know anything anymore!"
"George," she whispers still holding more, "that's not true. You know that Fred never took life too seriously. He laughed and played and enjoyed life until his very last seconds. His last breath was used laughing. He would want that for you too. He would want you to move on. He would want you to help Ron run the jokeshop now. He would want you to get married and have a family." She looks deep into my eyes, and I stare back.
"I can't do that," I tell her looking away.
"Why not?"
"Because the only person I want to marry is the person that Fred loved. He always loved you, and I can't have you because of that." I feel tears begin to run down my cheeks, and Angelina wipes them away.
"George, I love you."
"What?"
"I love you."
"No, you don't! You only think I do because I look like him and sound like him. I'm only second place to you, and you only want me because you can't have him!" I scream. I think about you and how you always wanted her. I think about how much I want her, but I know that having her would be betraying you. I can't do that to you.
"I've always loved you," she says, and then she kisses me. I forget to feel guilty and get lost in the kiss. It's over all too soon, and she looks into my eyes again. "He would want you to be happy." Something about the way she says it, the sincerity in her voice makes me believe her.
"I love you," I say, and I don't know if I'm talking to her or to you. Either way, it's true. I love her, and I love you, Fred. I always have, and I always will. I'm still lost, and there will always be a part of me that's lost. I'll never truly find my way. I know I'll never be whole again, but I don't have to be nothing. I'll be half. I'll be right down the middle, and half of me is ok. Half of me isn't lost anymore. Half of me has found its way.