Of Sugar Quills & Kisses
"Take it."
Angelina raised one eyebrow warily as she glanced over the tawny sugar quill Fred was offering within his lean, outstretched hand. A smirk pulled faintly at her lips as she fought to suppress an undignified snort. Taking candy from a Weasley Twin was (and with good reason) not her idea of a fun time. He couldn't really be serious in his offer, she thought wryly. That would be undermining her intelligence; even young Neville had learnt his lesson concerning candy and certain redheaded twins - albeit gradually.
"Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the offer, but no thanks." She grinned warmly to let him ascertain that no harm was done. The trust was still there – just not when it involved food or anything else that implied bodily intake. Besides, how would she know if his other half hadn't put him up to it? Fred never turned down bets, and Angelina hated running risks.
"You know, as my friend it's not required for you to stall. Just say that you don't trust me–"
"It's not that! I do trust you Fred," Angelina countered, persuasively.
"Just not enough to take the sugar quill," Fred deadpanned, his hand sinking dejectedly back to his side.
"Well, I am trying to lose a few pounds. And sugar quills aren't exactly healthy."
Fred twisted his features into a rather annoyed expression, "Pah! You look fine to me. And you've never turned down a sugar quill before, why start now?" Girls and their insecurities, he thought condescendingly. Allowing himself a quick peek at her modestly clad body, he was even more resolute that there was nothing remotelyaffronting about her. She looked flawless even in nightwear.
"Thanks, but really, soon I'll be too large to fly a broomstick – and then were would you be?" Angelina wasn't always so prone to exaggerating, but there was a first time for every thing. Distracted and still reeling from the compliment, however indirect, she wasn't paying much thought to the absurdity of her words.
"I hardly think one sugar quill is going to push you off the edge," Fred said impatiently. He ran a stubborn hand through his wavy, unkempt hair - unknowingly causing Angelina's gaze to flicker to his lips. She blushed slightly and was thankful as she realized he hadn't noticed her brief lapse of attention.
"Perhaps not, but one sugar quill leads to many sugar quills. And before you know it -"
"Just take the damn thing – please?"
"Have you not listened to a word I've said?" Angelina said tersely. She immediately felt a twinge of guilt, had she imagined it or did his voice hold a hint of genuine pleading to it?
"Why would I? You're obviously crazy enough to think you're fat." He retorted, not hiding his exasperation.
"I never said that."
"Well it was implied."
"Oh, so now watching my weight is bad?" Angelina bit her lip, wishing she could put a leash on her mouth. She hadn't meant to sound so reproachful. It was surprisingly difficult to manage her countenance around Fred. He simultaneously brought the good and the bad out from her.
Fred heaved a sigh, "Why are we arguing over a sugar quill?"
"Don't ask me. You're the one who's bent on me eating it."
"You would, if you weren't so bloody paranoid."
"I'm not paranoid!" Angelina protested feebly. Fred didn't bother to reply, he looked strangely incensed. Worried, she realized something was different. It wasn't characteristic of him to lose his temper so quickly with her. There was an air of seriousness around him. This struck her as odd since 'serious' was not a word most people would use to describe her freckled friend.
Wincing apprehensively and almost convinced she was going to regret her actions later: she reached for the sugar quill in his hand and shoved it hastily into her mouth. The warm sugary sensation melted pleasantly on her tongue, reminding her instantly why she loved sugar quills so much in the first place. Cautiously she ran both hands across her body, making certain she still possessed all her vital limbs and hadn't suddenly sprouted scales. She was amazed to find everything was as it should be. Angelina groaned silently, feeling the weight of her accusations.
"Wasn't so bad now, was it?" Fred said, throwing her a half smirk.
"I'm sorry I ever doubted you, happy?"
"Don't I look it?" His blue eyes darkened as he made himself more comfortable on the couch beside her. He tugged on her arm tentatively until she was flat out against him, the both of them lying sideways on the cushioned surface. She didn't protest at his invasion of her space. Lying on the couch was a common diversion of theirs. Angelina never felt quite so loved - or safe, for that matter; then she did when pressed comfortably up against him. Fred liked the way she felt; warm and yielding, and with her hair smelling faintly of lavender. It also helped to know that their bodies molded perfectly into each other. Almost as if they were made to be together, he mused somewhat hazily.
Fred felt her stiffen slightly as he placed a gentle kiss on her temple. Intrigued, he began a trail of feather light kisses, deftly grazing her skin as he went. Angelina felt her lips dry and opened her mouth to say something. Her eyes widened considerably as he captured her lips with his own, shutting down her train of thought. It was supposed to be a brotherly kiss, but some things never did go according to plan, and this was no exception.
Fred was the first to break their unpredictably heated kiss. "Sorry," he apologized in a hoarse voice unlike his own. Angelina inwardly thought he looked anything but.
"It's alright," She replied hesitantly. When he raised both eyebrows doubtfully she added, "Really."
"Good," Fred said darkly, leaning forward for more contact. He could still taste the sugar on her lips, but he suspected she was sweet regardless.
Time passed and they soon lost track of how long they stayed in their present circumstance. Hands roaming, lips engaged and breathing labored – it was the closest Fred had ever felt to heaven. From the way Angelina willingly reciprocated his actions, he figured he was not completely alone in his way of thinking.
Her mind began to drift before long, and Angelina soon suspected, with an air of dark foreboding that things would only get worse from here onwards. How could they possibly talk their way out of this one? They had kissed before – of course, but never with such disregard for consequence. And they weren't even under the influence, she thought mournfully. They had nothing to blame their recklessness on.
She sighed, and could not distinguish the cause.
A small part of her knew what they were doing was wrong. But it was diminutive and easily squashed. If she kept going their friendship would be ruined, and then what? Fred would never take her seriously, at least not in the way she wanted him to. He never stayed with a girl longer than three weeks, she knew for a fact because she had tallied the length of every relationship he had been in since their third year.
Placing both hands firmly on his chest, Angelina halted the kiss, reluctantly pushing him awkwardly off her. He was frowning when she looked up and their gazes locked: a startling blue against her dreary brown. "I thought you said it was alright?"
"I lied."
"This doesn't have to change anything." Fred insisted.
Angelina shook her head, "But it will, eventually. Don't you see?"
"We could-" Fred paused to reconsider his words. Apparently deciding against his original thought, he fell silent. Angelina took advantage of that moment to move from their location on the couch in the empty common room. She shivered at the sudden absence of his warmth.
"I have to go."
"I wish you wouldn't. I've botched things up royally, haven't I?" He confessed ruefully.
Angelina nodded, a somber expression etched on her features. He was admitting his fault but it was not what she had hoped for. For a moment there she had thought he was going to ask her...
No, it would never happen. Fred loved his freedom too much to ever consider being in a serious relationship. And she loved him for that, right? She wasn't entirely convinced herself if that was what she really wanted. Change was never a good thing. Something's were better left alone, she thought forlornly.
"Goodnight Fred." She said at length, climbing resignedly up the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory. Maybe sleep would help alleviate the heightened feeling of loss that tugged at her heart.
"Night, Angel." Came the quiet reply. But she was far too gone to have heard it. Sighing, Fred popped the lingering sugar quill in his mouth. It was all that was left of her. All there was to remind him that tonight wasn't merely a fabrication of his imagination. Tomorrow, he thought sleepily as he too left the common room, he would fix everything tomorrow. She would be his again tomorrow. And he would be damned if he was going to let things get awkward between them.
----
TBC?
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Cause I do. :)
Edit, le sigh: And of course, a little early but...; SEASONS GREETINGS May all your dreams come true, &c &c Love, Riisqué.