Summary: The blush in his cheeks was beautiful when he was embarrassed. George, Luna, and an afternoon at the burrow. Ficlet.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: I recently stumbled across a myriad of George/Luna fics that made me fall in love with the pairing, and when I informed Hider, she immediately jumped on the bandwagon and asked for fanfiction. Lord knows I'm incapable of telling her "no." I wrote this a while ago and just realized I never posted it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, since this is my first time writing either of them.
One, two, three…
With every second, she inhaled deeper, taking in all of the strangely familiar scents and sounds of the room she was standing in. The Burrow wasn't anything like her own home. It was… warmer, somehow, though her father was always finding Hefogats in the walls, and they were the warmest creatures in the world.
Luna opened her eyes when she felt a familiar touch on the small of her back and smiled softly at the boy standing next to her, though his face was still turned toward the kitchen as he shouted at his younger brother.
She didn't hear Ron's response to George's jab, but she was certain it was falsely angry. The Weasley siblings had a very interesting habit of screaming and shouting at each other, only to mumble their apologies and forgiveness hours later. Luna wondered if she would do the same if she had siblings to call her own.
"Git," George muttered, finally turning toward her. She smiled wider at the look of irritation on his face and raised her hand to cup his cheek.
"What happened?" The question was soft, curious, faintly amused. From the look in his eyes, she could tell that he recognized the tone. It was one she used often with him.
"Nothing out of the ordinary," he supplied. George didn't give any information beyond that, and Luna nodded in acceptance. He had siblings to push him. She didn't need to.
"Okay," she said softly, trailing her fingers gently across the line of his jaw. The skin jumped slightly under her touch and she furrowed her brow, intrigued by the reaction. George's mood could so easily be deciphered by a quick glance at his facial expression, and the quick clench of his jaw gave him away more often than not. Luna had never understood the old expression of 'he wears his heart on his sleeve' until she met George.
Though for years before that, she had watched him from afar when her father would bring her to the Burrow to play with Ginny. Molly was wary to allow Fred and George to venture farther than the gate at the edge of the yard after the havoc they wreaked at Flourish and Blott's when they were four, a story Luna had only recently heard from Mrs. Weasley over pudding. When she was a little girl, though, she just assumed that they preferred to stay home and play practical jokes on their family, since the response was almost immediate and most entertaining.
But the restriction made it much easier for Luna to observe the twins and learn to tell them apart. She could only recall a handful of times that she and Ginny had actually interacted with the boys, and those memories were vague.
George turned his head to press his lips to her palm and she raised her head, closing her eyes as she stretched up on her toes for a proper kiss. He obliged her, and she rested her hands against his chest. She much preferred these interactions to those of her childhood.
With a sigh, he pulled away from her and took her hand, idly playing with her fingers. Luna tilted her head to the side. "Ginny said she and Harry had some errands to do for your mum."
He snorted. "Is that what the kids are calling it now?"
"Yes, they have come up with much better excuses," she agreed. "I would have offered her something more creative, but I wasn't sure if you would be alright with that."
She stared at him earnestly as he spluttered in an attempt to respond. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she carefully concealed it, deliberately sliding her fingers between his.
"Good call," he said finally, after a considerable effort to calm himself. The blush in his cheeks was beautiful when he was embarrassed. Far better than any of his other blushes, with the possible exception of the shade of red he sometimes turned when she convinced him to let her spend the night.
"I like it when you blush," she confessed, carefully softening the pitch of her voice. Luna used her free hand to trace the freckles on his cheeks, biting the inside of her lip when he flushed even more.
George smirked and opened his mouth to respond when his mum shouted for him and Fred from the kitchen. Luna thought she sounded ready to commit murder, something that clearly was not lost on her boyfriend. He kissed her quickly and squeezed her hand before leaving her alone in the living room.
Twirling around, she headed in the opposite direction and slowly climbed the stairs, intending to discover where all the warmth of the Burrow was coming from. Surely, there was an infestation of Hefogats somewhere.