Chapter Fourteen
Rose's POV
I sat on George's lap, swinging my legs to and fro languidly. I was reading a book, but I found it difficult to concentrate while he was messing with my hair. I sighed. "George stop that, I can't focus." He grinned devilishly. "Well, maybe that's my goal. I can think of several more favorable activities." He said, before pulling me closer and kissing me firmly on the mouth. "Mmm! George, stop, I'm trying to read!" I cried, because the chances we'd get away with this in a house with this many people were beyond slim. He pulled away with a fake how-could-you-hurt-me-so look on his face, and I laughed.
He narrowed his eyes. "Now you laugh at my pain?" he teasingly wailed. Then he smiled mischievously. "Well, I suppose your laugh does sound quite nice. In fact, I think I wouldn't mind hearing it again… and revenge does seem to be in order…" at this point he tackled me to the floor, tickling me savagely. "George giggle stop it giggle I mean it! laugh get off tiny shriek" I pushed him off with a glare. He grinned cheekily, no remorse or shame identifiable.
I climbed back onto the couch and searched for my book. "Awww, Rose, don't be mad!" he said, worry written on his face. He handed me my book, and pulled me onto his lap. I was leaning against his strong chest, my face in his neck, his mouth next to my ear. "I'm sorry, Rose." He whispered, and I knew he was so I pressed a tiny kiss to his neck and reopened my book, searching for my place. "Am I forgiven?" he asked hopefully. I risked a glance at him, from beneath my eyelashes. "As forgiven as you'll ever be." I said, my voice ringing clear in the empty living room.
Mrs. Weasley was out shopping, Mr. Weasley was running errands. Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Fred were outside, playing quidditch or fighting in the snow. Charlie and Bill had run into town for something or other; more than likely they were more interested in adventure than whatever it was the stores had to offer. It was never dull in the Weasley house for me, but they'd been here all their lives. I suppose crazy must get monotonous after a time.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked curiously. I laughed. "George darling, you're in trouble every two seconds. I doubt you'll ever be forgiven by everyone at any single point in time. Unless you reform, that is, but then you wouldn't be our George." I said lightly, kissing his lips and lingering just a moment. She found her place and began reading again.
He shook his head. "Honestly, you ought to be a Ravenclaw." He murmured, playing with my hair again. Tiffy jumped onto my book, mewing for attention. "Silly cat." I murmured, rubbing behind her ears. "I rather sympathize with her. Both pining for attention, and being denied. Tragic, really it is." He murmured in a voice so obviously full of fake sorrow I nearly snorted. "Absolutely dreadful, it is. How dare I try to read a book? It should be outlawed." I taunted, slapping his hand off my hair. "Hmmm. I'll write to Parliament. Why can't I play with your hair?" he murmured lazily, leaning back. "Because you're being a pain in the arse." I responded, laughing when he shot up. "Rosie! Do you kiss me with that mouth?" he teased. "Not if you call me Rosie again." I replied tauntingly.
He chuckled and pecked my cheek. I gasped in surprise when he stood up, flinging me, Tiffy, and the book to the floor. "What was that for?" I cried out indignantly. He grinned. "Oh, nothing, Rosie." I see. He obviously didn't think I'd make good on my threats.
I considered tackling him, but decided against it. This was when the most ingenious plan formulated in my cunning little Slytherin-befriending mind. "Mmm-kay. Whatever you say George." I replied pleasantly with what I hoped was a seductive smile, before walking to the door, slipping on my boots and grabbing a jacket.