// geomione , soulmates , angst with a happy ending
“George,” she whispers, reaching for the lock of copper hair that had fallen loose from his bun before curling her fingers back into the center of her palm. “Talk to me.”
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“George,” she whispers, reaching for the lock of copper hair that had fallen loose from his bun before curling her fingers back into the center of her palm. “Talk to me.”
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George wheels over his shoulder, his expression so drawn and haunted that it freezes the rest of her retort.
Hermione wonders if one day, her heart might run out of new fault lines upon which to break.
“I found someone who can mend the bond.”
“What?”