Imagine going for a ride with Oliver Phelps…

George weasley owns my heart

They melt my heart

I desperately hope this shows up on people’s feed.

The Twins at the Boss after party at the Russacks St Andrews hotel after a day of golf!

Fred Weasley - Drabble

“I love you.”

“No you don’t.”

Fred frowned deeply, obviously surprised by my response. I kept a straight face as we stared at each other, in a sense, puffing our chests out for the inevitable fight that was to come.

Fred gazed at me with a confused expression. “What?”

“You don’t love me.” I said back confidently.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked.

I gathered his hands in mine and squeezed tightly. “Because it’s me, Freddie.” I sadly smiled.

His hands quickly ripped from my grip. “I don’t find it very fair that you get to decide my feelings.” He snapped.

“That’s not what I’m doing.” I quickly defended. “I’m just showing you the truth.”

“I love you.” He said again.

I scrunched my nose. “Don’t say that.”

“I love you, I couldn’t possibly love anyone else.” He quickly said as I stood and ran my hands through my hair.

“Stop it.” I snapped.

“You made it so easy.” He continued, rounding to stand in front of me. “You made it so easy to fall for you. The way you do your hair, to the things that tumble out your mouth before your teeth can stop them. You’re the easiest person to love.”

“No I’m not.” I grumbled.

He rolled his eyes. “Now’s the part where you tell me how unlovable you are, and you’ll list all your flaws and I’ll say I love them anyway. And then you’ll probably go on to say something ridiculous, like you don’t believe in love at all.” He predicted.

I looked at him for a while, mulling over his words. “I do believe in love,” I said. “I just don’t believe anyone could love meromantically.”

His brows furrowed.

“It’s not that I’m unloved or unlovable. There are plenty of people out there who would say they love me, and I’d believe them. But none of them are in love with me.

Because there’s a vast difference between the two. To love someone is to simply be fond of them, to enjoy their company and excuse their ways. But to be in love with someone: that’s to take them into yourself. To incorporate their ways, their mannerisms, into the very fabric of your soul.

I don’t believe anyone would love me enough to do that. I don’t know why I think that, but I do. I don’t believe you’re in love with me, I think your just very fond of me and enjoy my company.”

His lips pursed. “I think that’s very childish.”

“Excuse me?” I gaped.

“You’re like a wounded animal. You’re hurting, and you desperately need someone to help you but you’re too proud and childish to ask for it. So here I am, offering you help, and you’re snarling your teeth to get me to back away.

But I won’t do it. Don’t you think it’s time you finally let someone help you? Because Merlin, you aren’t doing yourself any favours by putting your pride above your happiness.”