Disclaimer: I doesn't owns nothings.
I was writing and I was really trying to write something Maximum Ride that was depressing and sadistic that involved Fang in pain somehow because I HATE HATE HATE how he left (only slightly less than the hatred that's fueled up for Angel since I first read her character) and after all, didn't Veronica Mars once say "the hero is the one that stays, the villain is the one that splits"? But I ended up writing something Lily/Teddy. I dunno how I ended up here.
so say, what are you waiting for? kiss her, kiss her
i set my clocks early 'cause i know i'm always late
(Fall Out Boy)
You're at one of those parties like you used to hold when you were a Hogwarts student, reckless and alcohol-induced and legendary. You feel incredibly old in the midst of Al and James' young, laughing, barely-out-of-Hogwarts friends. They're all just getting their lives together, focused only on having fun and creating their own families. They've never experienced true love or pain or death. They don't have the weight of the world on their shoulders yet and you're magnificently jealous of their having their lives ahead of them.
And you turn around and catch a glimpse of that fire-hair that always ignites fireworks in your belly, out on the dance floor, swinging her hips and raising her arms like there's no tomorrow. You give Al a pat on the back and take the shot-glass from James, and then push your way past the crowd, unable to resist the pull you feel grabbing you at the sight of this girl.
"Lily," you gasp like a man dying of thirst who's found the purest spring. "How goes it?"
She grins at you impishly and pushes back her bangs, turning her back to the man she'd been dancing with. "Teddy!" she shrieks and throws her arms around you. You feel the home you've never had. "I haven't seen you in ages," she declares, ignoring your question. "Where've you been?"
You shrug and run a hand through your hair, royal blue. "Places," you mutter, 'cause she doesn't need to know that you barely remember the places you've been the last month. All you remember is headache and regrets and girls who look like Lily but aren't. "I've missed you. Why don't we catch up? Grab a drink, chat somewhere quieter?" You offer your hand and hope you don't come off as the idiot she knows you are.
She glances around, biting her lip, long red hair whipping around like helicopters slicing through the air. "Why not?" she sings in that clear, melody voice of hers, and your heart beats a little faster, like a schoolgirl in front of the school heartthrob.
And just like that, it's the olden times back when you had nothing to worry about and Lily was you best friend. You sit and steal a martini and you two share it, her legs splayed across your lap as she rambles on and on about Romania and dragons and her best friends. In turn, you feed her courageous stories of Aurors and secret lands and danger. She laughs and gasps and widens her eyes in shock in all the right places and you hate (love) the feeling that you're falling in love with her like you shouldn't have (but did) a few years ago.
"How're things with Victoire?" she asks out of the blue as you trace patterns along her knee, twirling a strand of cherry-colored hair around her thin finger.
You swallow and your hair turns a light blond. "Haven't talked to her in a bit," you admit, face pink and eyes cloudy at memories of the girl who'd suffered. "Ah, I think she's over it, though."
She gives you that look like she knows the truth better than you do. "So you're not seeing anyone?" she murmurs, and you can't calm the butterflies you get as you see her furrowed brow, pondering hard.
"No," you say, because you really can't say anything else because the sight of her's made your throat dry.
"Well, um, that's good. I - I'm not seeing anyone, either, Teddy, at least not anyone that I won't let go of for you," she whispers, "and I'd quite like it if we-"
"Lily, we can't-"
Her hands go up and she lets out a frustrated grunt that's so Lily that you want to laugh at the predictability of it. "Don't even go there, Teddy," she growls dangerously, "because I know you want me too, and you've been dancing around me all these years and I'm goddamn sick of you leading me on." You're stuck between cracking a joke and pretending your life's a life or grabbing her cheeks and kissing her passionately or simply running away and never coming back. She's dead serious. You can tell by the onyx mixed with her emerald eyes.
Lily's arm wraps around yours and her fingers are stroking your stubble-covered cheek tenderly, her eyes wide with childlike wonder and adult sadness. "I love you," she says firmly, doubtless, as if she's been considering it for forever.
"I love you, too," you whisper so quietly you're sure she hasn't heard it. Your own hand tangles into her already-mussed hair and you take in the smell of lavender, so strong yet your nose struggles to take it in.
Disappointed, her face tips down as she stares at your shoes, roughened and tattered leather. "God knows you can't run away forever, Teddy," she warns, "so tell me now. Tell me now if you love me or not. Either you're going to kiss me this moment and time is going to stop, or you won't, and we won't. Ever. Not ever." She gives you this intent stare that makes you gulp back tears and honestly, you have no idea what to do.
"Lily," you choke out, and you feel instinct pushing you to lean into her. "Lily, I…" And you realize words can't describe how you feel. You realize that seconds are going by as they feel like millenniums in your heart and these are seconds ticking by that you could be kissing Lily. And you press her body close to yours and close your eyes and let go.
At the last minute, she pulls away. "Lily!" one of those tall, goddamn-good-looking Scamander boys calls from across the room, and she turns her head, smiling at him softly. "Walk with me?"
"I have to go," she confesses, eyes shiny. "'m sorry, Teddy, but…" Lily trails off, never finishing her sentence as she dances her way through the crowd on the dance floor, taking the Scamander boy's hand and leaving with him.
You can't help but wish you could turn the clock back, even a few seconds, because no matter what you're always late.