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girl on fire
My state of mind has finally got the best of me
I need you next to me
She likes the way the color of his eyes turn emerald when he falls prey to sleep and his hair reverts to a solid brown, plain and simple. She likes the way he looks calm and at peace as he lets out soft snores every so often. She likes the way moonlight floods in through the slight crack in the thick curtains covering up his window, brightening the room in an eerie glow. She likes the way they're here, together, quiet. She likes the way they're Lily-and-Teddy in this moment and this moment only, with nothing else to matter.
She hates the way he will think of this moment as a mistake in the morning.
Maybe it was a mistake, she wonders in her head, glancing down to watch the steady rising and falling of his chest. But the perfection that swirls in the still air, making her chest tighten and her stomach flutter, begs to differ. It forces these thoughts upon her… These thoughts that make her notice the way the corner of his mouth turns up every few minutes, as if he is having a particularly delightful dream. Notice the way his hair sometimes fades into its usual blue before morphing into its original Remus-like brown. Things like that.
Things that will only make the end result hurt even more, because like it or not, he will marry Victoire in two weeks and everything that has happened between them will be a blur to him. Simply a memory, something to shake his head about and scoff at his mistakes. Soon he will have children to care for and Victoire will be all he can see and he will have his own home, his own family, his own life. Someday, he will hear her name and think, Lily who?
But not her. She will be able to recall each and every second they'd spent together with photographic accuracy. She'll be able to remember the way his neck smelt like cologne the first time she'd kissed it; she will recognize the exact shade of red his hair turns when he's angry in ten, twenty, thirty years from now.
Like it or not, she's sure these were the best days of her life, the days with him. When they were just… them. Whether they'd been laughing in the meadow behind her home or playing pranks on Al and James or, more recently, being in love.
(No matter how hard she tries, she will never be able to think of their love as the wrong thing to do.)
And maybe someday she'll find someone to marry her, to love her, to hold her hand and rub her back when she cries. Maybe she'll find someone who comes the closest they can to him. Maybe. If she's lucky.
But in two weeks, he will be anything but hers. He will be untouchable and somebody else's and she refuses to break a heart ever again (it was never her intention.) Not now, not after she's found out what if feels like. In two weeks, all she will have is memories.
She looks over at him again, eyes still closed, unmoved by her wordless musings. She's almost tempted to get up, put her clothes on, and leave. Let him see what it's like to wake up to emptiness.
Instead, knowing this will be the last time, she closes her eyes, curls up against him, and falls asleep.
Can't fight, my mind keeps on coming back to you
Always back to you