I'M GOOD, I'M GONE ? george weasley

# 011 ━━ jealousy, jealousy

"Fred's almost gone," Angelina noted, her eyes following the Weasley twin, who was looking even goofier than usual, if that were possible.

Cassia grinned, nudging her. "That's your boy," she teased, her voice light with amusement.

Angelina rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "You know, sometimes I wonder what I've gotten myself into," she joked, though the fondness in her tone betrayed her words. The girls shared a knowing look, a shared understanding of the boys' antics that bonded them just as much as their friendship did.

Deleine's gaze wandered through the room, occasionally flicking to George, who seemed to be holding his own amidst Fred and Lee's boisterous antics. She couldn't help but smile to herself. This was what made nights like this special—, the shared laughter, and the knowledge that no matter how chaotic things got, they were all in it together.

Deleine couldn't help but feel a bit like a babysitter as her eyes kept drifting back to George, watching his every move as though he might suddenly need her to step in. It didn't take long for Cassia to notice, leaning in with a wry smile. "You know, you're watching him like you're his nanny or something," she teased, her tone laced with amusement.

   Deleine blinked, suddenly aware of how intently she'd been watching him. A slight flush crept up her cheeks as she shook her head, forcing herself to look away. "He's just... a bit reckless, that's all," she muttered, but the excuse felt weak even to her.

  "Reckless or not, I'm sure he can handle a bit of firewhisky without you hovering like a hawk," Indigo added on to the girl's conversation.

   Realizing the truth in their words, Deleine let out a small laugh and finally tore her gaze away from George, lifting her cup to her lips and taking a longer sip than before. The warmth of the drink spread through her, dulling the edges of her nervous energy. She was at a party, after all—a proper Gryffindor bash at that. It was about time she let herself relax and enjoy it.

   The night had been fantastic, the kind of carefree revelry that only a Gryffindor party could promise. Angelina had already dragged Fred onto the dance floor, and he was more than happy to make a spectacle of himself, swaying drunkenly to the beat. Cassia was swaying along too, her eyes scanning the crowd, while Deleine found herself lost in thought, her gaze fixed on her cup as she absentmindedly swirled the liquid around. Indigo stood off to the side, a content smile on her face—until it abruptly vanished.

   "Oh—what the hell?" Indigo's sudden change in tone snapped Deleine out of her reverie. Cassia, too, stopped dancing and turned to Indigo with a puzzled look.

   "What's up?" Cassia asked, following Indigo's gaze.

   "That," Indigo spat, pointing through the crowd. Deleine's eyes followed the direction of Indigo's finger, and her stomach twisted the moment she saw what—or rather, who—had soured her friend's mood. There was George, standing far too close to Phenix, who was being uncharacteristically handsy with him.

   Deleine's heart sank. She'd only taken her eyes off him for a moment, and now this. And it wasn't just jealousy that flared up inside her; it was something deeper, something that had been simmering ever since she met Phenix— ever since the girl had started acting like this. Only when she thought Deleine wasn't looking. It was always the little things—Phenix's subtle touches, her lingering glances at George—that grated on Deleine's nerves.

   The easy-going atmosphere that had enveloped Deleine all evening evaporated in an instant, replaced by a cold, prickling irritation. She shot a sharp glance at George and Phenix as they began making their way toward the couches, where the rest of their friends were gathering.