Knowing She Shouldn't

Knowing She Shouldn't

She was going out tonight, laying away the entire day to make herself presentable. She didn't know why, it was only her brother. It was another one of their dinner meetings where they would catch up and actually listen to what the other was saying. That's what she always loved about him, he listened. Not the fake listen that her other brothers had acquired over the years, the good and honest listening where she felt that she really had his undivided attention. She had never felt that with anyone but him.

Wrapping her crimson hair into a bun on the top of her head she let her slim body slip into the warm bath. She leaned her head back, knocking a few of her shampoos and conditioners over, but she didn't really seem to notice. She was too lost in thought... the memories of his care swimming in her head.

Every time she had fallen and scraped her knee he was there sitting by her side as their mother placed a cleaning potion on the wounds. She would squeeze his hand, letting him channel her anger out and into the open. He would gently stroke her hair, kissing the top of her forehead in the most comforting of ways. He always could get her to calm down.

When a boy had broken her heart, he was there to seal it up again with soothing words. He was the one who threatened them in the hallways, the one who told them if they hurt her he would kill them. She was convinced he was her guardian angel, sent down to Earth to watch over her and she loved every inch of him, loved him a bit more than she thought she should.

Closing her eyes at the thought that had haunted her mind for years now, she ducked under the water, screaming until large bubbles emitted from her mouth, slowly floating to the top. She didn't want anyone to hear her scream. Bringing her head back to the surface, she gulped in air hungrily. She wished she could tell him that she cherished him like she shouldn't, love him like she knew she couldn't.

"The bath really is a horrible place," she told herself, standing up, wrapping her body with a towel. "Gives you too much room to think." Quickly, she dried herself off. Glancing at he clock, she saw she didn't have much more time to get ready.

She picked up her makeup bag filled with all kinds of Muggle goodies. She always preferred doing things manually, sometimes you just couldn't achieve the same look with magic. Blinking in the mirror, she smiled coyly. Her freckles danced around her face as her cheeks rose, dimples forming on her cheeks. She blushed, knowing she shouldn't be worrying so much. He would love her no matter what, but she felt like she really could go the extra mile for him. She wanted to.

No one else had ever made her blush like a tomato. Not Harry, not Dean, not even Michael. It may have looked like she was blushing for them, but other things had always occupied her mind. Even back then, she could feel something bubbling in her stomach when he looked at other girls like they were precious to him. She was the first precious girl to him, and she wanted to be the only one. That was why she had never really gotten close to his female friends, she could never bring herself to truly like them.

She let out a frustrated sighed. Her mind had run away with her again. Picking up a gold eye shadow, she lightly brushed it over her soft eyelids. Dipping the brush in a darker brown color she outlined her eyelids, forming a small corner at the outside edges of her eyes, slowly blending it in with the gold. Opening her eyes, she examined her work.

Pleased, she took the black eyeliner, outlining her eyes with such care there were no mistakes. The mascara licked her eyelashes afterwards, slowly coating them with a black layer of paint. Dipping her brush down in the blush, she smiled, applying it gently to her cheekbones. She made sure not to cover her freckles though; he had always liked them.

Slipping into a sleek black dress, they were going to a fancy Muggle restaurant, she examined herself in her full-body mirror, twisting and turning to see if the dress showed any of her flaws. Finding none, she flitted over to her closet, pulling out a pair of high-heels. Wrapping the chain, which held the charm he had given her for her birthday around her neck, she blinked, somehow feeling incomplete.

My jacket!

she reminded herself, running over to the closet, pulling out a black Manx coat. She lightly tossed it over her shoulders just as the doorbell rang. She smoothed out the satin material of her dress, took a deep breath and went to answer the door.

He stood, leaning against the doorframe casually, his black slacks hanging below his hips, revealing a peek of his boxers. She could have melted, a bright smile lighting her face. She mentally slapped herself; He's your brother. He affectionately nipped her chin with his forefinger and thumb, striding into her quickly tidied flat.

"Nice place you've got here, not that you'd settle for anything less..." he trailed off, his loopy smile tickling the edges of his cheeks.

"You want a drink before we leave?" she asked, rushing into her kitchen.

"Have a drink before we go out and have more drinks and supper? If I didn't know better, I would think you're trying to get me pissed!" he chuckled, grabbing her arm so he could drag her out the door. He didn't need to, though; she would have followed him wherever he wanted to go.

Outside her apartment building sat his old 'shaggin wagon' as she used to call it. He opened the front door for her, letting her step inside. After she was comfortably seated, he closed the door, jumping inside the driver's seat. He smoothed out his blue button down shirt, placing his hands on the wheel.

Without warning, he put the gear into drive, stepping on the gas. Flustered, Ginny clutched at her heart with one hand, the other gripping the armrest tightly. Her seatbelt held her inside safe enough, but she never did truly trust Muggle things.

Arriving at the restaurant, he let the valet take the car to the back parking lot. Taking his sister's hand, he led her through the doors, stopping to the seating attendant could find their reservation and seat them.

They were nestled in a dark corner in the back of the restaurant, the candlelight swimming across their bodies placing shadows over various parts of their faces. Ginny had removed her coat, which left her freckled shoulders bare and in the open. She brushed a tendril that had fallen in her face out of the way so she could get a better look at him.

"So, how've you been Gin?" he smiled, cocking his head to the side curiously.

She wanted to scream out 'horrible because I couldn't be with you', but held it inside. She could feel her cheeks warming with a blush, her eyes filling with tears. She tried to casually wipe her eyes with a napkin, but he had already suspected something was wrong.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked. Not waiting for a reply, he stood up, helping her with her jacket. They quickly dashed out of the restaurant. He pulled a slender piece of wood out of his pocket. Making sure they were in the shadows he whispered something and with a soft 'pop' they were gone.

As she slowly recognized that she was in his flat her stomach twisted into knots. She knew she would never be able to deal with being alone with him without the chance that someone could walk in at any moment. She would lose herself, and she knew it.

Stifling back a tear, she sighed. "I want to go back home."

He was stunned. Blinking, he took the jacket from around her shoulders. "Not until you tell me what's wrong..." he insisted, hanging the jacket on the small coat rack that hung from the wall.

"I can't tell you Ron, I'm afraid I'd lose you if I did..." she whimpered, her eyes filling with tears. They freely brimmed over her eyes, taking bits of the mascara and eyeliner she had so carefully applied not even an hour ago, the black color sticking her under eyes; smudging them.

He placed his arm around her shoulders, leading her over to the nearest thing they could sit on, his bed. Ginny shivered, knowing she shouldn't be thinking the things she was, knowing that she wanted them to come true more than she wanted anything else in the world.

He wrapped his hand in hers, slowly rubbing his thumb across the top of her hand. Her sobs soon turned to quick and rushed breaths, her shoulders losing their rigid stature. Soon she had relaxed in her arms.

"Shhh, don't cry baby girl, I'm here," Ron whispered, scooping her up in his arms, rocking her back and forth. She rested her head on his chest, her elegant bun falling out of place. Small curls came tumbling down over her head, falling neatly on her shoulders. Picking her head up, she looked at him, into his loving blue eyes.

"You will never lose me, Ginny, do you hear me? Never," he whispered, kissing the top of her head gingerly. "Because, I love you... Maybe even more than I probably should. You're too dear to me Ginny..." He stopped rocking her in his arms, her eyes watering with hope.

Bending forward he kissed the top of her forehead, his lips moving down to her freckled nose. She closed her eyes, unaware that he was closely examining her reactions. Letting them flutter open, her honey eyes showed something he had only seen once or twice before in a woman.

It had always been there, she knew if he had only looked into her eyes her secret would be given away, the game she played would be up. She had always worn her heart on her sleeve. He would have known she had loved him more than she should have. He would have known that she felt more things for him than they both knew she should have.

Her eyes locked with his, something shooting between them. Without warning, his lips came crashing down onto her own, filling her with the most satisfying feeling she had ever imagined.