FicWad

A/N: /Italics/: flashback/memories

Pretty Deep Eyes


She remembered the look in his pretty deep eyes when she had told him, when she had confessed.

"Angelina!"

It was a mixture of bliss and pleasure, an act of acceptance, a treaty of truce. It sickened her.

Angelina stared at Fred through the thick glass of the door's window, her face as stoic as the glass.

"Fred," she said with a meaningful calmness.

How could this be, she had thought. How could he get his way, accept this outcome when he couldn't even accept me? Tears had coated the corners of her eyes as she looked at him sitting across from her at the bar. You bastard, she thought. You...bastard.

"Angelina!" he yelled again.

She closed her eyes and inclined her head. "Fred."

Her actions were beginning to anger him and she jumped when he hit the door with his fist.

But she said nothing and only blinked her eyes as she raised her glass to her lips. The bubbly acid of her drink stung her eyes. The tears dropped from them and into her glass like acid rain.

"Open the damn door!" Fred shouted passionately, his fist making a continuous rhythm as he beat against the door.

Angelina stared at him for a moment. Then she pressed her palms against the glass.

"You'd have to break it, Fred," she told him quietly. His pretty, deep eyes widened in shock.

He hadn't even noticed her tears, but she hadn't been surprised. He never had.

Fred pulled away from the door, backing away a bit.

"What?" His voice was soft with puzzlement. She looked at him evenly, her deep brown eyes unforgiving.

"You're not getting past this door."

She had then proceeded to watch as he leaned slightly back, running calloused white fingers through thick ginger hair. She had then braced herself wholly for the questions he was about to ask.

"An-ga-leen-ah!" He broke her name down in it's four syllables as he began to hit the door again. "Let me in."

Angelina gave Fred a skeptical look, dropping her hands away. The hell she was letting him in.

"Please."

She had listened, with a determined face, to all his inquiries. Determined as in to refrain from furthermore crying. Determined as in to soften her heart. But she couldn't do both.

Angelina stared, shock still, at Fred. Had she heard correctly? Had he just said "please"? Was he--

"I'm begging you, Angie..."

Angie.

"...let me in that house."

He was looking her deed in the face with those pretty, deep orbs. Her hand went to the doorknob.

So she had answered all his eager questions, made him believe she had forgiven him, made him smile...all with a hard heart.

She stopped. What was she doing?

"What are you doing?" Fred screamed at her. "Open it!"

No.

"Ang-"

"No!"

It had been with that hard heart that she listened as he asked if he could go home with her tonight. And she had hesitated. Home? With her?

"Angelina, what the hell?" he asked, angry and impatient.

"You hurt me," she said, her voice slightly fractured.

Fred stared at her, through the glass, an eyebrow raised in question. She had once thought that cute, but now...

"Come again?"

"You," she had to pause and make her voice
emotionless, "broke me that day."

Fred only stared.

"You left me at some god forsaken pub alone." She balled her hands and pressed them against the glass. "I had nobody, Fred! No one, but you."

He was silent, and then he began to hit the door once more.

"That...was...three...years ago!" he cried with every hit.

Sure, she had said. Why not? she had shrugged. Her shift had been almost over. She'd love for him to come home with her. And at that, he had smiled.

"And I didn't know!"

But his proclamation fell on deaf ears.

"You didn't love me." She moved her fists away.

"No," Fred's voice came from so faraway. "I didn't."

Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead on the smooth, cool surface.

"But I wanted you to."

"Angie."

She opened her eyes and looked, seething, at him.

"I'm sorry."

She had known long before they reached her street that she wasn't going to let him in her house. She had long since made up her mind. The jovial joking, the romantic reminiscing...it had all be a ploy. It had all been meant to fool Fred Weasley.

"Too bad." Angelina lifted her head from the door. Fear flickered in Fred's eyes, and she turned around to press her back against the door at the same time he cracked the glass.

She had lead him up her pebbled encrusted walk that lead to her front door. He had whistled: Nice place. She had smiled: Thanks. They had reached the door, and she pulled a silver key and slid it in the lock.

Screwing her eyes shut, she slid down the door, wanting with all her body and soul for

Fred to go away. To Apparate, like he did before.

"Ready?" she had asked.

"Yes," he had replied with a grin.

"You sure?" she had teased.

"Just open the door."

"Fine."

With her back still to the door, she had turned the key.

"Angelina," came his woeful cry. She turned her head around to look, automatically wishing she hadn't.

He was crouched down on the other side of the door, at her current level. A single palm rested on the window and his eyes looked into hers pleadingly.

Begging her.

"Angelina."

She had quickly opened the door, and as quickly slammed it. He had only watched, dumbfounded, as she locked it.

Angelina quickly turned away. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she rested her head upon them.

Why did she feel so bad?

/ Through all her quick yet careful planning, she had anticipated everything-/everything-except the look in his eyes, when she had shut him out.

More banging.

"Stop it."

More yelling.

"Fred."

More glass cracking.

"Mommy."

Silence.

But she had only stared at him with out emotion as he cried out her name with such anger and pain.

"Angelina!"

Her head shot up.

Standing by the staircase, was a small boy. He was holding a teddy bear to his face as he stared at her with those big pretty, deep eyes.

"Oh, Jerody." Angelina stood up and went to him. "Did Mommy wake you?" Gently, pulling the bear away, she kissed his soft, warm cheek. "Mommy's sorry," she whispered.

Angelina then picked him up. "But there's a big, bad man at the door and he's bothering Mommy. Said he wouldn't go away till he saw you." She began to walk toward the door and Jerody clung to her neck with his free arm, trembling as he looked at the door, at Fred.

"So you're going to have to tell him, Roro. Tell him to go away for Mommy. To leave me alone." Angelina's eyes were on Fred as she stopped at the door with the little boy in her arms. She witnessed with a softened heart as pretty, deep eyes met pretty, deep eyes for the first time.

And she almost cried along with Fred.

She had wanted to tell him three years ago, that exact day, that she was carrying his child.

"Fred, I have something to tell you."

He had frowned. "So do I."

"Oh." She'd paused. "Well...you go first."

Jerody's father was speechless as he stared at his son. Unexpected tears fell from Angelina as she looked upon Fred.

"T-tell him, Jerody."

"I don't want you to see me anymore."

She had suddenly felt paralyzed. "W-what, Fred?"

"Angelina, it's over. I'm breaking up with you."

"Why is the man crying, Mommy?" their little boy asked softly.

"Just do as Mommy says, Roro." She hid her face in his thick, wavy auburn hair. "Tell him."

/ "But why?" She had tried not to break down in front of him, but it was /hard.

"It just isn't working, Angie-"

"No!" she had screamed in tears. "You're just not trying."

"Ange, look-"

"You look..." She had grabbed his hand and put it on her lower stomach. She had waited but he said nothing. Only stared at her, baffled. "I'm-"

He had taken his hand away.

"Sorry," had been his words. "I'm sorry. Bye."

There had been a crack, and he was gone.

"Bad man," Jerody's voice was small but stern, "go away. Leave my momma alone."

Fred seemed paralyzed. He stared at Jerody, then at Angelina.

He was trembling.

"Angel, you just can't-"

"Fred." She lifted her face from her son's hair and turned her swollen eyes on her ex-lover.

"Just go. Please."

He stared at her before looking at Jerody.

"I'm leaving now, mate," he said and every word seemed like it cut into him. "I won't be bothering Mommy for a long, long time." He then smiled a bit, but Jerody turned his head away.

Fred raised a shaking fist to the cracked glass, but then stopped.

"Bye, Angelina," he said chokingly. "Bye, son."

Angelina caught her breath, but then released it, her heart suddenly clear.

"Goodbye, Fred."

He backed away slowly, tears running freely down both cheeks. Jerody turned his head back to look, and Fred's face broke out into a smile once again.

And then crack! He was gone.

She had tried to tell him three years ago...and she wished he had listened.