Chapter 1
♦♦♦ Now every time that I look at myself ♦♦♦
"Hi!"
Bill lifts his eyes up from the papers he was reading and does a double take before coming to a stand. He wipes his lips, "hi! Hi... Sorry-"
You walk inside, surveying his office. You immediately spot the open window and the curtains billowing with the cold breeze. You sigh.
Bill notices the paper bag you held and scrambles to tidy his desk. Just as he's about to walk over to you, you walk over to the window.
"It's cold, Bill," you mutter, reaching for the window.
In a few wide strides, he manages to take your wrist. You turn; he takes the bag from your hand and closes the window himself, "I know."
His red hair blows into his face, the last thing the wind does before it is forbidden entry by the glass pane. Bill turns back to you, then inspects the paper bag, though he already knew it was something you got him for lunch.
"Cake," you mutter, stepping forward, to brush his locks to the side.
He lifts his gaze and nods, "thank you, darling."
You raise and knit your brows simultaneously. His cerulean eyes were pinkish from exhaustion. The freckles littered across his cheeks were weighed down by the same pressure weighing his gaze. Still, his dry lips curve into a smile for you. You press your hand to his cheek, "is something wrong?"
His reaction is immediate. He sighs and leans into your touch. He moves the bag away and snakes an arm around your waist, "none more than yesterday," he leans his forehead on your temple, "business as usual."
You would have enjoyed the kiss he pressed on your cheek more if his words actually brought you comfort instead of concern. Business as usual to him was working himself to the bone. Your hand comes to his chest, rubbing up his collar to straighten it, "William."
His shoulders tense. He slowly pulls away.
You share a look and a sigh falls from his lips. He rubs your back, "I'm-"
"Bill, there's another-"
Both your gazes shoot to the door. The man who opened it immediately goes silent at the sight of the two of you.
Bill clenches his jaw, "did you not see her walk into my office?"
"Bill," you turn to him, "he didn't."
"I didn't," the man mutters softly, raising papers, "I was instructed to-"
"I don't care," Bill points, "get out."
The man lowers his gaze and leaves without a single word.
"Bill," you repeat.
He releases his hold on you, unwanting to hear a lecture. He walks back to his desk and waves a hand, "they know better than to disturb me when you're here."
"But you shouldn't have-"
"He should have knocked," he places the bag on his desk, pulling the boxed cake out of the bag. He stares at it for a moment, realizing that it was only one slice. He turns to you with knit brows.
You sigh, "I'm not staying for lunch."
His lips part, "but-"
"I have to go pick up some wallpaper for the store."
"Oh?" he puts the cake down, "what's happened to the walls?"
You shake your head, "nothing. Just want to put new wallpaper."
He nods and walks over, taking your hand, "I can try to leave work early today to help you pick some out."
You let him pull you in again. You smile and prop your hand on his shoulders, momentarily kneading out the strain on his firm muscles, "you know if you have to try, that means you can't, right?"
A line instantly forms between his brows, "I-"
You smother his answer with your lips and wet the dryness of his mouth with your affection. Bill melts, immediately succumbing to your warmth. His arms loop around you, pulling you closer to him, as if eager to fuse your bodies together. Your own arms slink their way around his neck, bringing him closer to your height.
You pull away to catch a breath. He chases after you with a whimper, silently pleading to meld his tongue with yours. You rub your noses together, "don't work too hard, Mr. Weasley."
He furrows his brows as his nostrils flare. He brushes his knuckles against your cheeks, "I promise to try lea-"
"Bill," another man interrupts, "about the— bloody hell-"
Bill snaps over his shoulder, "get the f-"
"Sorry! I'll go-"
"No, wait!" you raise a hand, "I was just leaving." You pull away and kiss his cheek.
"You are?"
You smile sweetly at him before jogging to the door. You smile at the man, who clearly had something important to tell him. You mutter, "good luck."
He clenches his jaw as he turns to Bill.