It's strange how one can see a person from day to day and always believe this person is the most serious in the world. A person can hide their face from the world and the truth may never show. It makes me laugh, just how affectively some can do this. I know you all want to know what this has to do with the story I have promised. Well, I'll tell you. Lily Evans. I'm sure you had all guessed this would come to her.
Who, you ask? I'll have to pretend I'm not offended you asked, but I suppose she neither has nor desires fame.
She's beautiful, stunningly so. Her eyes are green. Emerald does not even begin to describe them. Neither does jade, green, olive or lime. They are indescribable. I can gaze into her eyes forever. They are deep, so full of emotions… and of life. They tell stories that no words can say. She has long, curled, sleek, red hair, that I long to run my fingers through. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And believe me I have seen a lot of beautiful things. But nothing else can compare to her.
Her stony earnest, the will to do well. She is forever determined. I have never seen such resolute in a woman. The power to persevere, the persistence. She will never allow anyone to stand in her way. Least of all a man. Least of all me.
It hurt my heart, to know I would never be hers. That beauty, those eyes, lips, her hair, the relentless endurance. I wanted her, from the moment I lay eyes on her. I wanted her as my own. To hold, love, touch, kiss, it caused me great pain.
It came to me slowly that she was more than a crush, that she was a love. My one true love. I'd never believed in true love. Not since I was three, listening to fairy tales at my Mother's knee. It was a laughable matter, I said. People married for physical needs, children, material goods and family. I soon found how wrong I was. True love did exist. And mine happened to come in the form of Lily Evans.
It all started a few weeks before Christmas. I had stayed up late, to do some much needed last minute revision for a potions test the following morning. I wasn't in the best of moods. I hated studying, especially when it cut into the time I spent with my mates. I hadn't really bothered since first year. I only did the bases of the work. As little as possible. I did the essays and homework but most of the time, I relied on my natural skills to get me the grades. It seemed to be a good strategy; I always came out with acceptable marks. Potions, however, was one of the few focuses that I needed to work for. Potters were simply not made for potions. I would never have taken the subject, if I had not had my mind set on becoming an auror.
Now it was not hard to see I was annoyed that evening. I played my quill or wand irately through my fingers the entire time, as I sat in the Head Students Common Room, book open across my lap. The fire was crackling, reminding me of my love's molten locks. I pushed my mind away from her. I could not afford to be distracted, not even for my Lily.
But alas, Lily always finds a way to avert my attention, generally in the most inconvenient times. It would usually be an exam, or a serious conversation with my mates. Her timing is atrocious. It's amazing how a girl so organised and calculated can choose the most impossible moments to attract my attention. My luck typically leads me to focus on her when I need it least. Take the time at platform nine and three quarters. Where my mother talked to me for ten minutes straight before I realised that she was addressing me. I was too taken with my gorgeous beloved to even notice my parent.
It was of course one of these untimely instances that Lily chose that evening. As I read through ingredients and cauldrons of bubbling substances, my dearest Lily chose to enter the room.
She was alone, though this was not unusual. Since her closest friend, Alice had started dating a rather nice Gryffindor bloke from our year, Frank Longbottom; I rarely saw Alice walking her to the Common Room, like she had used to.
She came in and sat on the sofa opposite me. I lifted my head briefly to gaze longingly into her indescribable eyes. I breathed deeply, trying to reign in my deep desire, my cravings. Her hair was left down, they way I liked it. The silky curls tumbled almost playfully onto her shoulders. It was teasing, tormenting, almost flirtatious. If I hadn't known her better, I might have believed she was trying to seduce me. She was flaunting herself, mocking me. She knew of my yearnings and her casually… sexy manner did little to help my predicament.
I turned back to my work, running my free hand through my messy locks. I knew she hated it, or so she said, but I was tiring of the work. I made another note. I could feel her eyes lingering on me, watching me intently. It reminded me of the thousands of time I had watched her carry out such mundane tasks. I knew her so well now. The way she held her quill as she wrote, the way she pursed her lips when she was thinking, the way she held herself when she was angry or passionate. Some might call me a stalker. But I was in love, and hopelessly so.
I push my mind back to my work, try to forget her stunning body, so close to me… and yet so far… I work, diligently… conscientiously. Or attempt to. I can still feel her gaze on me… and lower my eyes deeper to the page. It is far from the self restrain I need to oppress her distractions, a half hearted attempt… if that. I learnt long ago that Lily Evans is not so easy to manipulate, particularly for a man that loves her as much as I. I restrict my concentrations; do not allow her to dictate my actions.
There is a deathly, awkward silence that fills the room. I run my tongue over my lips to moisture them. I wish they were hers. Did I mention that she's stunningly beautiful? I can hardly believe that I have forgotten to. It's the first thing I think when I wake up and the last before I fall asleep. The truth.
I've often been told that true love cannot be found at my age. I laugh at anyone who says that. I fully intend to marry Lily. I have done since I was a small boy, aged just eleven. Marriage. She doesn't believe me of course. Thinks it's a scam. Thinks it's all about winning. She was the only girl that ever said no. And the only one I've ever actually wanted. It was refreshing, at first. Now it breaks my heart, because I love her so much and slowly her doubt of me is killing me.
I hate silence. It's horrible. I often fill it with the kind of flirtatious remarks she hates me for. I despise the silence. I can't talk, not now, I need to study. Study. I know she's surprise, I don't think she's caught me studying before. I'm hoping it will earn me some well sought after respect on her part. I shake my head, desperately attempting to clear my head. I close my eyes briefly, resting back against the chair I'm sitting in.
My relief is short lived; a soft, yet strange noise sounds. I open my eyes, looking inquisitively around the room. I refuse to admit the peculiar noise has been emitted emanated from my love's mouth. I look for the object that has infiltrated our silent haven. I look back up at Lily. There's amusement shining in her bright eyes.
I return my eyes to her work, only for the strange noise to occur once again. I look up, even more determined to discover the culprit's identity. I am once again drawn to Lily's figure. It's a lost cause really; I can't help but look at her. A smile is tugging at her lips. I want to trace the path with my fingers and lips. I think she can sense that, for the fledgling grin soon turns into a solemn, innocent guise. I watch her, breathing deeply, arduously. She smirks, the innocence vanishing in a second. I wonder how she does it; going from innocent to conscious in seconds. She's impossible, so complex to work out. She watches me through knowing eyes, and I stare back. I am expecting her to rebuke me, to reprimand me for my lingering gaze. I know the intense gaze often embarrasses her. But it is all I can do. The one and only. She won't have my kisses, or my embraces, not even my protection.
She looks fervently at me, blinking softly. We're both still as I watch her. And then she does it again. She makes the noise. My Lily is making that noise! She's… hiccupping! I laugh, it's cute. All thoughts of work are pushed from my mind. I try to call them back.
"Love," I object, "as sweet as that is, I'm trying to learn the work for potions tomorrow. Stuff I'm sure you already know, but I happen not to." I fold my hands together, resting them on my knees.
She favours me with a confused look. "Love?!" she asks, "James, do you love me?" she asks, astonished. I frown, I make no effort in hiding my love for her, surely she must know. And then I realise, she's… drunk. My Lily is drunk.
"Lil?" I ask unsurely.
She hiccups again. "James, do you love me?" she asks once again, drawing my name out extensively. It's alluring, the way she says it.
"Why, yes, love," I reply, quietly.
"Good," she tells me.
She's not making any sense. "Good?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Good, what, James?" she enquires.
"Why's it good?" I try again, reaching for any conscious thoughts that may appear through her drunken state.
"Because I love you…" another hiccup, "and I want you to love me too."
"You love me?" I say, in disbelief.
"Opps," she says, placing a hand to her mouth. "It's supposed to be a secret."
I frown, "who told you to keep it a secret, love?"
"Me," she giggles.
"Oh," I reply.
"James…" she queries, "why don't you ever kiss me? James, I want you to kiss me."
I look at her stunned. I don't respond. I can't. I don't know how to?
"Well?" she asks me, it's not a request and it's absolutely enthralling. I love it, and she knows it. She's so sexy when she's commanding.
"Well, love, you've never wanted me to, nor let me," I tell her.
"Liar!" she retorts. "I always want you to kiss me." Tears are threatening in her exquisite eyes.
"Hey, don't cry, love," I say, "please." I kneel down beside her. "I'll kiss you, if you want," I tell her seductively.
She nods, her face immediately brightening. "Please?" she says.
"What my girl wants, my girl gets," I tell her and lean into her slowly. I give her the chance to back out, afraid that it is a trick. I reach out and place a soft, momentary kiss to her lips. It's all I've ever imagined… and more. She's amazing, perfect. I love her.
I break away and look into her eyes. "I love you," I tell her.
She smiles widely, showing off perfect teeth. "I love you too, James," she tells me happily.
I stroke her cheek, tenderly, caressing. My thumb traces over her lips, before I move my finger into her silky hair. I watch her. She looks delightfully happy, a smug grin on her face. She knows I adore her, and she likes it.
"More," she commands.
I sigh gleefully, arrogance chiselled into my features. She places her hand onto my chest and I look at her, enthusiastically. "All your call, love." She looks at me, contemplating what I've just said. She's like a small child, waiting for permission to take what she so desperately wants. Permission I do not hesitate to give. "Go on," I say.
Her eyes radiate, she leans forwards and kisses me. Sweetly. I beam against her lips. Before giving her a series of open mouthed kisses. Our passion increases, she moves her hands into my hair. Messing it in the way she has so often scolded me for.
I break the kiss and watch the teasing path her tongue takes over her lips. I lean forwards once again and take her lips in a searing kiss. My tongue retraces the path of her lips. Pleading, begging, for entrance. She tentatively permits it. I shove my tongue into the caverns of her mouth. Licking, tasting, our tongues swirl and clash together. I tighten my grip on her, unsure when my arms came to enfold her waist. Her sweet, succulent taste explodes in my mouth.
She moves and in a lightening flash our positions are reversed. I am now sat on the armchair, her in front of me. She rests her figure on top of me, straddling me as we continue to kiss. She tightens her arms around my neck as I hold her close to me. Her body stirs against mine. I stick my tongue deeply into her mouth once again. I moan, lowly, she looks at me, taking my cheeks in the palms of her hands. Her eyes on mine, she hiccups again. I chuckle, making a mental note to thank Alice for giving her the alcohol. I swear she's psychic; she seems to know my thoughts of Alice, for her face falls. Is she… jealous? I wonder.
"Hey," I whisper. "I love you."
She kisses me. "I love you too, James," she tells me. We kiss again.
"Did you learn the… potions?" she asks. This is more like the Lily Evans I know. The organised, business first, no play till you're finished.
I gaze at her thoughtfully. "Nearly," I tell her. "Perhaps a few more kisses will help me to remember." She voluntarily complied.
And from that day onwards I never forgot the particular potions topic. And I even got top marks in the test. Thank goodness for Lily Evans.
So here I am, several years on, with my beautiful wife, Lily Potter, who is now heavily pregnant with our first child.
Just a cute little fic, don't actually know where it came from!
Love James' Lily Flower.