#2. Love

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“When you say you love me,” Lily said carefully, “what do you mean?”

They were in the middle of a game of truths. Her eyes rested on him, chin held high and eyebrows lifted in a challenging manner. Her arms were crossed tautly over her chest. James, however, appeared wholly relaxed and entirely nonplussed and even slightly uninterested. This frustrated her. While his questions were delivered without any difficulty, her own were preceded with an internal battle and complex thought process.

“It means I love you.”

She heaved a sigh, shaking her head in frustration. She should have known that the question would be taken at the shallowest level of meaning possible. With great force, she repeated her question. “No, what do you mean?” Upon receiving only a blank look (to this she issued yet another sigh), Lily added, “You’ve thrown those words around like a tennis ball, James. Third, fourth, fifth, sixth years. And now we’re in our seventh year, you’ve only said them once – a few days ago – and they mean something new.” She spoke slowly and with heavy consideration allotted to each word. “They used to be a hormonal teenage boy trying to impress. What are they now?”

James looked at her, head cocked slightly as he pondered her question. He thought it rather came out of no where, a sneak-attack among questions such as “How many people have you kissed?” (hers, the answer to which was five; a number which hardly accounted for his bollocks reputation) and “If you weren’t dating me, and if you had to date one of us Marauders, myself excluded, who would you pick?” (his, the answer being Remus; to which he remarked that he would be keeping a close eye on the two of them). They were lighthearted questions, hardly a few steps up from things like favorite foods and music and colors and places. Her lingering inquiry, however, hardly constituted as the preceding.

“I love you, Lily. Everything about you.” He stared at her whilst he spoke, the intensity of which he watched her making her feel slightly uneasy and even color in the cheeks. “I love the way your name just rolls off my tongue. If a name could have a taste, yours would taste sweet. I love the way you say my name.”

James continued to look at her, and she returned the gaze. She bit down lightly on her lips and a crease formed vaguely on her forehead as she drew her eyebrows ever-so-slightly together. “I love how you smile with your eyes more than with your lips. Speaking of which, I love them, too. I love how they feel against mine, against my skin. And the way that they’re always sort of chapped because you have a habit of biting down on them if you’re really thinking about something, which is almost always.”

At the attention drawn to her lips, she realized that she was biting them and immediately stopped, instead pursing them together slightly. As an effect of his words, a deeper blush played across her cheeks. He smiled.

“I love the way you blush when you’re embarrassed, even if you haven’t a reason to be. Like now.” He shrugged lightly. “But, I digress. I love the way you’ll look at me during class or in the Common Room when you think I’m not looking. But even more than that, I love the way you blush then and turn your eyes back to your work pretending I didn’t just catch you doing it.” As if on cue, Lily felt her face grow hotter.

“I love how you pay such close attention in classes, even History of Magic – which I commend you on, because I think you’re the only one who pays even the remotest amount of attention. Again, digressing. I love how you’re so eager to understand new things.”

He leaned closer to her from where he sat on the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room. Thrown off-guard at this, she pulled back a fraction. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.

“I love the freckles that are so faint you can only see them when up close. I love the way you find them annoying, even though most people don’t know you have them. I do, obviously.”

James leaned closer again, and this time Lily didn’t counter the move. She remained still, eyes still fixed on his.

“I love your hair. Everything about it, really. I love the color and how bright it is under the sunlight. I love the way it feels when I run my fingers through it. I love the way it frames your face and the way it falls at different lengths in different areas. I love the smell of it. I learned it’s one of my favorite smells when we brewed Amorentia in Slughorn’s class.”

He continued to lean closer; she moved forward slightly, lips slightly parted as his hazel eyes stared into hers.

“I love your eyes. They’re the first thing I noticed and remembered about you. I love their shape and color. I love the way that they’re so expressive. They smile for you, laugh for you, show anger and sadness for you.”

He leaned in some more, so that their noses were mere centimeters apart. For the moment, she forgot to breathe.

“I love the way your eyelashes flutter ever so slightly when you anticipate I’m about to kiss you,” he breathed, his lips hardly moving as he spoke. “I love the way your eyes dart from my eyes to my lips under the same anticipation,” he added in the same manner of speaking. “I love how you hold your breath because you’re waiting for me to fall into you and kiss you.” At this mention, she remembered she ought to resume normal respiratory patterns and began to breathe again.

“I love you, Lily Evans. Everything about you.”

The gap between their mouths was closed as he leaned the rest of the way towards her, tilting his head and pressing his lips to hers. The kiss started off delicately, their mouths working together in a gentle, rhythmic manner. She had leaned fully into him, her hands pressing lightly on his chest. His own hands made their way to either side of her face. With time, however, the energy lifted and the delicacy of the kiss gave way to passionate and slightly rough. He pulled her onto his lap and he leaned back against the base of the armchair, his hands resting at her waist; she snaked her arms around his neck. Their mouths were open to one another, and he nibbled gently on her lower lip. His lips had barely wandered to her neck, earning from her a low, appreciative gasp, when a voice interrupted.

“Hey, Prongs,” Sirius Black called, “I came to give you Moony’s notes to use.” He snickered amusedly.

Faster than she could reprimand them for the use of another student’s class work, Lily had jumped to her feet, straightened her robes, and began to stare awkwardly at the ground.

James, however, stared at his best mate with a how-could-you?! look that just made Sirius beam. “I was a bit pre-occupied at the moment,” he said stiffly. “I could have done without Moony’s. Bloody. Notes.”

Sirius shrugged, grinning widely. “All’s well that ends well, yes?” He tossed the roll of parchment into James’s lap and gave Lily a curt nod before walking off.

Not waiting for him to be out of earshot, James said bitterly, “I’m going to kill that bloody man.” Lily had nothing to add but a small, embarrassed cough.

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Author’s Notes: Did this one in about an hour and fifteen minutes while my internet connection REFUSED to work for me. I finished it at twelve thirty midnight on Sunday … and wish I could have uploaded this then. But, oh well. Point is, I like how this came out. Cliché? Er … kind of. But, I rather like it. I hadn’t written pure fluff in a while, so I was long overdue. I think this works. It’s corny, romantic, and full of humor. I like my one-shots in this 100 themes challenge being short, too. I think they work that way. ANYWAY. Review, sil vous plait!