|Be My Downfall
Author: theywillneverknow PM
L/J One shot based on the song 'Be My Downfall' by Del Amitri. Not really much of a plot but open to interpretation.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - James P. & Lily Evans P. - Words: 1,932 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 3 - Published: 04-16-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4200710
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: I don't own the characters.
A short one-shot based on the song 'Be My Downfall' by Del Amitri. Sketchy plot at best and yes, I know, it doesn't really make all that much sense. This story is a 'read between the lines' kind of affair. I wanted to write a story in which people could believe it meant everything and nothing all at once so put your imaginations to work, people. D
Be My Downfall
"I have to go."
One word that was uttered with such conviction, such promise of the unspeakable acts that were bound to happen if he complied with his urges, that he paused whilst boarding the bus.
He couldn't turn around and face her. That would be his undoing. If he kept looking at the distinctly irritated bus driver he could still make a decision. It would be his own choice of his own free will and not made because of her damned eyes.
"Don't go. Stay here…with me. At least tonight."
Her words were almost lost on the gentle breeze, so softly were they spoken. But they reached his straining ears and tugged painfully on his heart strings.
This was wrong. And they both knew it, there was no denying that. He was supposed to get on this bus and go to Matilda and take her out to dinner as pre-arranged. At the end of the day, when he was ready to settle down and stop playing this foolish game, it would be Matilda, or someone equally as adequate, waiting patiently for him. She would not be. She had made that abundantly clear.
The bus driver cleared his throat and gestured to his watch.
He was being rushed and he didn't like it. Later he would blame his lack of sense on the pressure he felt at that particular moment in time.
He stepped off the bus.
Grumbling, the bus driver hastily shut the doors and turned the key in the ignition.
"What do you want from me, Lily?"
He was weakening. First name usage was a no-no in this dangerous game. At least he hadn't looked at her yet, that was something. A small something, but a something none the less.
"I want you. Always you."
He was tempted. Tempted beyond anything to fall at her feet and beg her to love him like he loved her, to reciprocate the feelings that burned with such intensity that 6 years of hatred had not subdued the flames but fanned the jumbled feelings of lust into a passion, a desire and finally an all consuming love.
"I can't do this."
Shaking his head to clear his hazy thoughts, he pushed aside the majority of his mind that was screaming at him to turn around and ravish her until she couldn't think straight. His hand shot out on impulse and hit the side of the bus as it was about to leave the remote bus stop. It halted with a groan and the driver heaved an exasperated sigh as he re-opened the doors.
As the doors opened once more he thought of Matilda. Of her soft, brown hair, of her warm, hazel eyes, of her tall, lithe body.
Only he couldn't. Or didn't.
The woman in his mind's eye barely reached his chin and she had vibrant, red curls that framed her heart-shaped face. Matilda, or any of the other women he had tried dating, would never replace her as the love in his life. She would always be the one woman he knew better than he knew himself. He knew he would never forget her. Not now, not ever. He would always remember the way her brow creased when she was working late at night. Of the way she arched her back when she was yawning. Of the way she shuddered whenever anybody cracked their knuckles. Of her fondness for knee high boots, even if she couldn't walk properly in them. Of the particular way her breathing would change when she was asleep. But most memorable would be her eyes; the extraordinary colour, the depth of feeling, the trust, the understanding, the subtle shift in colour, the shape, the size, the way they looked at him.
He paused ever so slightly before lifting his foot to ascend the bus stairs and that was enough for her.
The summer breeze was not the cause of his goose bumps despite the fact that the night was descending quickly. Taking a deep breath in, he turned around. The doors closed behind him and the bus pulled off with a screech as it continued its 20 mile journey that should be taking him to Matilda. But he wasn't aware of anything except the sea of emerald green that he was drowning in.
Her eyes had captivated him the moment he had first seen her and now was no different. He was rendered speechless as he tried to comprehend the indecipherable feelings swimming below the surface of her unique irises. Confusion, lust, happiness, passion, anger and love. He attempted to tear his gaze away and found it damned near impossible. He was barely conscious of the fact that he was slowly inching closer and closer to her huddled form until he was within an arm's reach of her.
He had always said she had her own kind of spell over him and, once again, he had fallen under completely.
He reached out to her and she leant towards his outstretched hand in a gesture that, had it been performed to anyone else, would have been missed in all its subtlety.
Still not touching one another, she looked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent as she bit her lip.
He sighed and closed his eyes.
"Has the bus gone?"
He could feel her gaze warming his face as she stared at him. Opening his eyes, he found her staring at him with a somewhat disappointed expression. She felt awkward and guilty and was struggling to remember why she had dragged him away from his date with a possible candidate to fill the ever empty position of steady girlfriend.
He wasn't struggling at all.
He knew perfectly well what they were intending to do that night and it was all he could do not to voice a sound of pleasure just thinking about it. He wanted to feel her and taste her and have her shuddering in anticipation. He wanted to lead her to the brink of eternity and show her what forever looked like. He wanted to whisper in her ear all those naughty things he had ever thought about as a hormonal teenage boy. He wanted to whisper those forbidden words that had been forming on his lips since he had been 11 years old.
'I love you.'
An exhaled breath escaped his lips to form yet another sigh.
"Regrets already, Potter?"
She had stopped staring at him and was looking awkwardly down at her feet. The normal joking lilt in her voice was gone and she was asking him a serious question. He realised, with uncharacteristic insight, that she felt somewhat ashamed and needed a little reassurance from him. Although taken aback at her sensitivity, considering she was seducing him despite the fact that he was unofficially 'taken', James Potter was not a fool and was most certainly not heartless when it came to one Lily Evans.
"I have no regrets when it comes to you, Lily."
His voice broke the silence in a hoarse whisper that cracked slightly. The look she gave him indicated that she was not sure she heard entirely accurately.
Aggravation flashed in his eyes for a brief instant at her breathy whisper before it was extinguished and replaced with a resigned affection.
"Just tell me if the bus is out of sight would you?"
She turned to look down the road and he admired her profile in the dimming light. She was perfect. The curve of her forehead and the straight line of her nose reminded him faintly of a Greek goddess and he wondered whether she could break his heart any more than she already had. The light was rapid in its departure and with each passing minute the colour of the sky shifted from a darkened blue to the pastel pinks and purples of the sunset. If she asked he was almost certain that time would stop for her. If he could, he would ask her to make this moment last a lifetime. She was like an ethereal being and he could not tear his gaze away from her. Why would he want to? It was all he could do to not stroke her hair or tenderly brush her face with the back of his hand. The feeling of desire crashed over him in a sudden wave and he thought he might explode if he didn't feel her silky skin against his. All he needed was to touch her…
"Yeah it's gone."
And that was when he grabbed her. Time began ticking again and all that mattered in the world melted away. Lips met lips as arms wound around bodies and the two young adults became entwined. Teeth, tongue and lips collided in a moment of unbridled lust. A tango of desire danced in his stomach as her hands threaded through his hair. Coherent thought was impossible as she pressed her petite body closer to his and effectively erased all memory of a girl he vaguely recalled had soft, brown hair and hazel eyes.
Lily was the first to pull back and she looked adoringly at him as he stroked her hair tenderly and nearly passed out at the feel of such exquisite silk against his fingertips. He kissed the freckle at her left temple and allowed his lips to liner for a moment too long.
"I love you."
A breath exhaled against his neck and he almost forgot how to breathe. Hope blazed triumphant in his heart as his pulse skyrocketed. Freezing instantly, it wasn't until Lily shifted her head to look at him properly that he blinked at her.
"What?" He could not allow himself to believe it was true. He would not let his heart get crushed again by this red-haired vixen. A smile graced her lips, shy, demure and totally uncharacteristic as she announced with ardour the words he had longed to hear for as long as he could remember.
"I love you."
Standing at the bus stop as night descended around the young lovers, James Potter's heart soared with joy. He vaguely heard himself utter the same forbidden words to her and watched as her own face reciprocated the joyous sensation he was feeling. All he could hear was the pounding rhythm of his heart in his chest as she wound herself around him once more and placed a tender kiss to the base of his chin. A goofy grin splattered across his rosy lips and before he could register anything else, she was kissing him again.
In that moment he had never been happier to call Lily Evans his weakness. She had always and would always be his downfall and he was eternally glad that his downfall came in the form of a red-headed goddess that just happened to fall in love with arrogant, raven haired troublemakers by the name of James Potter.
Be My Downfall