Disclaimer: Any recognisable material does not belong to me. The plot is mine.
Title: We Close Our Eyes.
Author: TeahWeah.
Writing duration: July 24th-25th 2006.
Summary: It was so easy to say I love you but fighting the war with your paranoia when it comes to saying it is far more complex.
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The soft and tired whispers of "you're going to be fine" are the only thing Angelina could hear. Part of her want to protest by changing the word 'you' to the word 'we' but she was so weak that she can't even speak. Instead of arguing, Angelina took Fred's hand and tangled it into hers until Fred managed to give her a weak smile.
Hearing his voice, Angelina was more relieve than anything else.
How long did it take her to get here?
It is not easy to confess something that you yourself are in dilemma with. The mixture of frustration, confusion and even disbelief acts as a barrier for you to admit something. Sometimes, Angelina wished it was easy to let out her deepest feeling. It was simple for her to be angry at someone and it was easy for her to laugh at a joke.
But, the idea of 'love' is beyond her.
It wasn't "love at first sight" but it took a while to develop. The first year of Hogwarts revolved around arguing about 'you-have-cooties-go-away'. Once Angelina made it to the Quidditch team, Fred figured that she was kind of cool.
When Fred asked her to the Yule Ball, Angelina was amused more than anything else. It was one of those rare occasions where she can shine her femininity. Seeing Fred's jaw dropped when he saw her made her feel like she has achieved something big. The excitement starts to flow when they danced and when they were doing slow-dances, the contact of Fred's skin on hers gave her butterflies.
The kiss she received from him later that night felt as if it could burn her lips. By the time he broke free, she was convinced that her lips were left with the angry shade of red but instead of backing away from her, Fred embraced her in a hug.
She felt safe. More than ever in her life: she felt safe.
Angelina thought she was in love with him… but she couldn't be! Denial has its way with messing with your thoughts. No, she shouldn't be in love with him.
So, she shrugged it off and was indifferent about it. At least she thinks.
During their seventh year, Angelina accidentally bumped into Fred in an alcove. He was with another girl. Snogging.
As the couple broke free to see the interruption, Angelina gave an awkward smile and walked away.
She was jealous. Strong jealousy towards the girl and pure hatred towards the red headed boy. The day after the incident, Fred was kicked off the Quidditch team. All the frustrations that escaped her lips went to him but were covered up by something else. The being-kicked-off-the-team was the scapegoat but the anger was directed somewhere else.
Two weeks later, Fred broke up with the girl and Angelina was happy again.
When Fred left, she felt lonely. But, the idea of seeing his again excited her. In fact, after graduating Hogwarts and seeing her family, Angelina went directly to the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes just so she can see him.
She could feel the butterflies in her stomach—something she thought she had outgrown—as she made her way to the shop. When he embraced her, the emotions were indescribable. It was a mixture of receiving a hundred Galleons for no reason and swimming in a pool of chocolate ecstasy.
The war emerged and it went on a year after she graduated. The feeling of worry and fear were combined together. Every second, the need to know the conditions of her loved ones troubled Angelina. She sent owls' everyday and when Fred told her she was being a worry-wart and asked her to come over to the shop, Angelina was comforted.
As she made her journey to the shop, Angelina wondered how much time she's got until all is lost. Flashes of courage hits her on her walk to number ninety-three of Diagon Alley and told her to confess to Fred. She practiced saying 'I love you' under her breath and hoped that Fred will give her a positive reply.
Stepping inside the premises, Fred greeted her with a peck on the cheek and a quick hug. Before he could say anything more, Angelina blurted, "Fred, I have to tell you something and it's really important."
Fred looked initially shocked with her words but overcame it quickly.
"Fire away," he said.
She opened her mouth but the words falter in her throat.
It was so easy to say I love you but fighting the war with your paranoia when it comes to saying it is far more complex.
"Well?" he insisted.
When the words were on the tip of her tongue, the thing that will change her life forever happened.
A wand explosion of fire hits the front entrance of the shop like a bomb. Shards of broken glasses were flying everywhere as some of the stocking shelves caught fire. Angelina and Fred were both thrown back from their previous position by the detonation. She slammed her side to the wall and her head crashed to the concrete and she could feel the cool moisture of blood flowing freely down her temple. As she landed on the floor violently, she could here the sound of her arm cracking. Glasses were still flying everywhere and a huge piece cut her deep on the side of her ribs before settling down on the ground.
The pain was unbearable and as she opened her eyes, she could see the blurry figure of Fred five feet away from her; it looked like he received the worst blow as the explosion hit him directly on the chest. He was bleeding heavily and judging by the smear of blood on the wall, he has cracked his skull. Angelina gathered up all the energy she has left and dragged herself over to him. His breathing was uneven and rasped while his eyes were round in shock and fear. Seeing her, he gasped out, "Are you alright?"
"No," she replied, "are you?"
"I don't know," he coughed and she could see a small amount of blood rolling down his jaw mixed with his saliva.
She didn't know what to do as a panic attack hits her. Angelina leaned on the wall and pretended that this isn't happening. This was just a practical joke. In a minute, they will be laughing maniacally.
But that wasn't in the option.
"Fred, what are we going to do?" she asked frantically as she clutched the bloody opening on her ribs.
"Don't panic," he said, barely above a whisper.
She tried screaming, "How am I suppose not to panic!" but couldn't muster up enough energy to do so.
"Just take a deep breath and calm down. Don't panic or you'll lose more blood," he continued, "You're going to be fine. Close your eyes and calm down."
"Fred, I love you," she said. Finally.
"Just close your eyes," he said weakly, "you're going to be fine."
"Fred, I love you," she said louder than previously.
Angelina took Fred's hand and closed it around her blood-covered ones and all he could do was smile up at her as his breathing turned more jagged. He held her hands tight and kept whispering "you're going to be fine" to her and the emotion of calm took over her body.
And, as everything turns blurry, Fred stopped talking and she could see people running up over to them. Before she fell unconcious, the running figure registered to her mind. The mediwitches and the healers.
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Everything was hazy as Angelina tried to open her eyes. After a few blinks, she could see slightly better but she closed her eyes again as burning liquid made its way down her throat. She coughed a couple of times before someone made her sat up on the soft mattress and rubbed her back gently with their palm. It was then she could see clearly.
She was obviously in a room in Saint Mungo's. The white of the whole place was a contrast to her skin and she felt rather jittery at the place. She looked at the person who was rubbing her back. A middle-aged mediwitch with black hair and a reassuring smile plastered on her face.
"I'm glad to see you're awake, darling," she said, "I was giving you some potion. It does hurt the throat a little bit, don't it?"
Angelina nodded in response.
"You're going to be okay, darling," she continued, "well, best for you to go back to sleep and don't worry about getting any dreams. I gave you a dreamless potion already before."
The mediwitch's hand made their way to her shoulder and laid her down carefully back to the bed and she moved the sheets higher above Angelina's chest before walking to the door.
"Is he okay?" Angelina asked before the mediwitch closed the door.
"Who is, darling?"
"Fred Weasley," she said, "the man who I was with when you found me…. The red haired bloke."
The mediwitch replied with a look of dismay on her face, "I'm sorry, darling, but he died on the way here. He lost too much blood… I'm sorry."
As the door closed, tears made their way down her cheeks.
He's gone.
Angelina doesn't know what hurts more: The pain of Fred not replying to what she said or imagining him saying 'I love you' to her. She took too long to pour out her emotions and this is what she gets in reply.
No more Fred. No more red head to fall head over heels to. No more of the sound of his laughter or the way the side of his eyes wrinkles whenever he smiles. No more mischievous grin. No more Fred.
One blink and everything changes. We close our eyes and the world turned around.
Every image of Fred surrounded her. When she was let out of Saint Mungo's, she could sense his presence around her. She turned when the sight of the colour of his red hair was in the corner of her eyes only to be disappointed. Only to feel that knife stabbing through her heart and being twisted. Only to feel that sting of salt on her open wound.
It hurts.
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Author's notes:
-The title 'We Close Our Eyes' is from a song by the band Allister. (Check the song out.)
-If reviewed, thank you very much.