Fleur is sitting on the floor of their flat, holding a broken picture frame. The glass is broken, but their wedding picture, Bill twirling her about on top of that fake Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas, is still mostly in tact
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Squatting next to her, one hand on her shoulder, Bill surveys the damage. "Imagine if we'd been here, love. We left not a moment too soon." Though luck might or might not have anything to do with it, he won't negate it by pushing it aside; he's always thought that most everything happens for a reason
( ... )
She doesn't really bother with all that. She lasted through a battle, damnit. Being strong only lasts for so long.
Her mother and sister are dead like her father, friends are hurt, her husband is hurt, and someone has killed her couch. The first thing she ever bought with her own money and picked out and was all hers and hers alone, and it's so stupid that she is starting to cry again. It's just a couch.
So she rubs at her eyes and pretends to fix the picture frame.
Bill knows better than to ask questions: everyone grieves a loss in their own way. It's just... he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know if he should hold Fleur or back off. He doesn't know if he should put things right here magically or not. He doesn't know if he should be out looking for incontrovertible truth that her family is gone, like she seems to believe, or just let it go.
So instead he runs a finger across their wedding picture. There's a knife slash through it, between the two of them.
She looks up at him. Shocked, really. For just a moment, she forgot he was here.
"Oh, Bill." She forgets about the picture and grabs him, throwing her arms around his neck. "If it had been you..."
Because she would have moved on, one day, if had been, and that's terrifying. Because she loves him, but she knows she would have and could have. Even though she only wants to grow old with him. And it makes her cry a little harder.
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Her mother and sister are dead like her father, friends are hurt, her husband is hurt, and someone has killed her couch. The first thing she ever bought with her own money and picked out and was all hers and hers alone, and it's so stupid that she is starting to cry again. It's just a couch.
So she rubs at her eyes and pretends to fix the picture frame.
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So instead he runs a finger across their wedding picture. There's a knife slash through it, between the two of them.
"I'd like to fix that."
He needs to do something.
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"Oh, Bill." She forgets about the picture and grabs him, throwing her arms around his neck. "If it had been you..."
Because she would have moved on, one day, if had been, and that's terrifying. Because she loves him, but she knows she would have and could have. Even though she only wants to grow old with him. And it makes her cry a little harder.
"Iz all so stupid. So stupid."
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