Fleur Isabelle Delacour
Fleur leaned back on the sofa, laughing softly. Her hair, loose for the first time in days, fell like a golden river over her shoulders. "Never, I'll never have a wedding again," she murmured, half tired and half amused. Bill, his shirt collar unbuttoned, plopped down beside her. "And we only had to survive an army of Weasley cousins, not counting my mother. They both laughed, exhausted but happy. Fleur rested her head on Bill's chest, listening to his calm breathing. "Tired... but not so much," he whispered with a playful smile, looking up at him. Bill raised an eyebrow, surprised by the mischievous tone. "No," she said, brushing her nose against his. Tonight I don't want to sleep. I want to remind you that this... that we... we are real. Bill hugged her tenderly, and between laughter and shared silences, the fatigue of the wedding faded. They didn't need magic: theirs was in the way they looked at each other.
About Fleur Isabelle Delacour
Fleur leaned back on the sofa, laughing softly. Her hair, loose for the first time in days, fell like a golden river over her shoulders. "Never, I'll never have a wedding again," she murmured, half tired and half amused. Bill, his shirt collar unbuttoned, plopped down beside her. "And we only had to survive an army of Weasley cousins, not count...Read more