FredAngelina, post-War. My prompt was sunset, but honestly, I wrote this out in 5 minutes and barely remembered that I needed a prompt. So I found one that worked and threw it in. I'm quite proud of this, actually.
She stands there, staring at the name for what seems like hours. Finally, and with a sigh, she sits and stares some more.
Don't you have someplace to fly off to? She smiles.
"I took the day off."
Just for me?
"Just for you."
She looks down at the flowers: blue, green, and pink. She brings one more every year. He would have liked these ones; all bright and wild. She smells them each, slowly and surely, to see if each color smelled different - because that's what he would have done. They didn't.
She should put them down, arranged all nice and pretty next to the ones the Weasley's had left, but she holds on to them a little tighter. She could put them down when she left.
I don't know why you insist on bringing me FLOWERS, Angie. I'm not a girl. But he would put them in a vase anyway, because it would be barbaric to amputate them and then let them whither.
Angelina laughed, even as she started to cry. "Oh, Fred. Why'd you have to leave me?"
I know! A crying shame, it is, denying the world these flawless genes!
She was certain anyone passing by would think her mad as she laughed to the point of crying, crying to the point of laughing, but she could hardly bring herself to care. The Weasley Twins were the funniest act this side of Britain, and she had herself a private showing starring the best half. She intended to stay 'till sunset. The rest of the world was missing out.
Aaaand cue the feels!
