A.N – I'm currently in the middle of writing a long story (that I haven't started posting yet) which is going through a very awkward stage. So I was sitting in my room with the lights off, drinking a pint of fosters (I'm not usually a pint girl) and eating a bar of dairy milk in a strappy top and a pair of boxers, listening to the annoying thump of my brothers hip hop and trying to think of a good direction of my story, when I had this sudden burst of inspiration, an epiphany if you will. So anyway, this is the outcome. I hope you like, and don't forget to review!

The portrait

They lay on his bed together, their bare legs entwined, scrunching the soft sheets into deep wrinkles with their feet. Their naked bodies slotted together like pieces of a puzzle, all skin touching skin. Her head rested on his chest and she could feel the rhythmic beating of his heart and the slow waves of his breathing. His head nestled on top of hers, his arm slug lazily about her shoulders, hers across his chest. A thin cotton blanket lay haphazardly over them, revealing most of their torso's in their post-coital glow.

'Tell me something,' Lily whispered in his ear so that her hot breath tickled the nape of his neck, the spot where he most liked to be kissed.

'What do you want to know?' James asked, equally quietly, less inclined to talk and more inclined to relax in his lover's arms.

'Tell me something no one else knows about you,'

'There's nothing,'

'There must be something,'

James considered for a moment. 'Ok there is something but you must swear not to tell a soul,'

'I promise,' said Lily, looking up into her mans eyes to show her sincerity.

'I like to paint,'

'Like art? Are you any good?'

'I'm alright.'

'Will you paint me?'

'If you like, but I'm not promising a masterpiece,'

Lily chuckled, 'do it now, I want you to capture this moment.'

James sighed, 'but I'm comfy.'

Lily giggled and poked him in the side, 'go on.'

James grinned and climbed out of bed. He pulled on a faded pair of jeans without replacing his underwear and knelt down to look under his bed. After a minute of rummaging he pulled out a rusty old tin box, a bit larger than a shoe box that had a worn out picture of a broomstick on.

'Cute,' Lily remarked.

'Hey, I've had this since I was a kid!' James said indignantly, 'if you want me to paint you, you'd better be nice to me,'

Lily smiled, 'I love the box,'

James grinned and opened the lid. He pulled out an equally battered set of oil paints and a pencil.

He settled himself into the armchair opposite his bed and propped up a piece of parchment on a wooden board that was also under his bed.

'How do you want me to pose?' Lily asked.

'However you like,' he said, not taking his eyes of her as she moved around the bed to find a good position.

Finally she settled into a sideways position. Her legs stretched across the length of the bed and she propped her head up with one arm. The other arm rested neatly along her body.

James began to sketch instantly. He never rubbed anything out or changed any marks he made. The soft grey flowed easily across the page. A shoulder like this, a hip like that. He bit his lip with concentration as he studied the body he knew so well.

Finally he had a rough sketch. He prised open the tin of paints and wetted a brush in the glass of water on his bedside table. First the skin, a soft pinky hue, a flush in the cheeks, pure white breasts. Next the lips, rosy and full. Then it was the hair, mousy blonde, tumbling around her slender shoulders and caressing her neck. Hardest of all were the eyes. The exact shade didn't exist. He thought he had it, then he turned to face the real things and the colour on the palette seemed dull, insignificant.

Lily stayed motionless. She did not smile or laugh. She watched her lover watching her. He concentration etched across his face, frown lines appearing on his forehead. She was seeing a new, sensitive side to James Potter she didn't know existed and she was glad for it.

'You're beautiful,' he said, as he shaded in the part of her inner thigh that was unexposed to the dim reddish glow of his lamp light.

Lily smiled and then shivered involuntarily.

'You cold?' James asked.

'A little,'

'Almost done.'

He finished his last bush stroke with a flourish and leaped back to admire the painting.

Lily pulled the blanket around her aching body for warmth and went to join James to see the painting.

'Wow,' she breathed as she laid eyes on it, 'it's stunning!'

James snuck an arm around her shoulder.

'You like it?' he asked, studying her reaction, desperate for her to be pleased.

'I love it. How have you kept this talent a secret for so long?'

James shrugged, extremely pleased with himself.

Lily turned her head up and kissed his softly. She pushed her body against his and enveloped him in a hug and kiss.

'Thank you,' she whispered, tears lining her sparkling jade eyes.

Twenty years later, a boy walks into a ruined house. Tears prick his eyes as he takes in the unmoved devastation around him. All furniture has been shattered, unrecognisable objects litter the floor.

He picks his way through the house and up the stairs into what bears signs of having once been a bedroom. A door to a cupboard swings on its rusty hinges as the wind blows fiercely across it. He peers inside, moves as much debris as he can, and spots a rusty old tin box with an unrecognisable picture on it.

He prises it open and finds an old tin of paints and a scroll of parchment. The tears begin to fall thick and fast from his sparkling jade eyes as he lays eyes on the naked form of his mother and the untidy scrawl of his father saying ,'to Lily my love, forever yours, James.' In light grey pencil.

Well I hope ya'll enjoyed this, it's kind of like the titanic now I come to think about it. I would really appreciate your reviews, so if you feel like leaving one I'll love ya forever!