jigsaw (n.): a puzzle consisting of a mass of irregularly shaped pieces that form a picture when fitted together.
George was broken after Fred's death. It wasn't just like there was a piece of the jigsaw missing - it was like half the puzzle was lost, leaving gaping holes in the picture. There were good days; there were clumps of the puzzle that were all there. But there were others that he thought he could never get back.
"I don't know who I am, any more, Angelina," he confessed, and Angelina's heart melted at the lost look in his eyes. "I'm nobody, not without him. Everybody preferred Fred. It was always Fred and George. Not George and Fred. He was what made me somebody."
Angelina shook her head. "You know that's not true, George," she said quietly.
"But -"
She cut him off. "Stop, George. Just stop." Then she reached for his face and kissed him slowly; softly.
George looked taken aback when they broke apart.
"I didn't prefer Fred," she told him. "It was always you. You were meant to be identical, but I could always tell you apart. The extra freckle on your ear," she said, stroking it. "I know you feel alone without Fred," she continued. "I know it feels like there are bits missing. But you'll always have the memories."
Angelina vowed to be the one to fix George if it was the last thing she did.
A/N: *curls up and cries in corner*
This chapter was for the First Kiss Challenge. :)