― fire in my bones;
for the hpwritersnet prompt of "jily." loosely based on the events and plotline of aria and ezra during season six of pretty little liars. modern muggle au.
"― in which James is a tortured writer facing tragedy, and Lily is the young assistant sent to retrieve his missing chapters. After sleeping with him, of course."
Drowning. Always drowning. Always remembering. She's gone, she's gone. She is never going to come back. She will never fucking come back, because, as humans do, she fucking died. And so he always drowns, remembering, with the same weight blocking his chest, that how can he be of any worth without her? How could he finish this goddamn book when finishing it will mean the end of her?
Dreaming. Always dreaming. Always wanting. She is not a writer; she will never be a writer, because she is not good enough. She will never be fucking good enough, because how can she be good enough when there will always be someone better? And so, she dreams, hopeful but sad, a weight in her chest, that how could she ever be good enough to have a book of her own? How could she be happy without the one thing she has always wanted?
They meet in a coffee shop. It is a small corner store, packed in between skyscrapers and multi-million-dollar businesses, but it is cute and it is filled with warmth and personality. There are multiple vintage posters on the walls, bunting, and the smell of coffee and caramel is currently wafting through the air.
It is here where they meet, in the line to get their respective vanilla and caramel lattes. He looks like he has not slept in weeks, all dark rings under his eyes, visible through his glasses, hair sticking up in complete disorder. He looks like he needed both the coffee and the sugar.
She looks like she is excited to be alive, eyes bright and twinkling, ginger hair cascading down her shoulders and she ruffles through her purse, and he catches a glimpse of her nearly filled notebook. He is trying not to pry, but he cannot help it. She is the most interesting thing he has seen in weeks.
She glances back as she pays for the caramel latte, smiling cheekily at him.
"You should get some more sleep, sir. Might stop you from gawking," She says, smiling, paying for her coffee, before she heads to the waiting line.
He's mouth closes dramatically and he turns around to see her wink, and he cracks a smile, and he has to wince, because he has not truly smiled for a while. He is stuttering as he orders his vanilla latte, and he joins her in the waiting line with shaky heads and a newfound hope. Something new and different is happening.
He is almost forgetting the girl who died.
"How do you know the coffee won't fix the sleepiness?" He asks the ginger as he approaches her, and she smiles.
"No one has rings that bad with a proper amount of sleep, lad. Only sleep will fix that."
He groans in defeat, but is still smiling. Something between them is sparking, and they are making small talk in the line and something inside him is feeling more alive than ever.
She is giggling at his shit jokes, and she feels a sad weight in her chest because she can feel his sorrow, she just does not know why.
Something in her body shifts, and after she makes that remark, she has a feeling that things will not be the same.
They are so enchanted to meet each other that they end up sitting together at the breakfast bar, both clutching the warmth of the coffees between their fingers.
He introduces himself as James Potter, writer extraordinaire.
"Really? Well, I'm Lily Evans, dreamer extraordinaire." She says, curtsying as he bows, and they take a seat.
They talk for over two hours, simply because they want to. James feels an ocean of new washing over him. It is hopeful, it is sweet, he is trying to forget the voice of the girl who is gone, and it is sort of working. She is the human embodiment of fresh starts and hope. He is already a little bit in love.
They talk for over three hours, simply because they cannot look away from each other. Lily feels a breath of sea air brushing over the entire of her body, new starts, hope, because maybe she is good enough after all. She is already a little bit in love.
They do not even mean to, but they begin walking around the streets of the city, talking, eating, and both forget about whatever else they were supposed to do that day, for it is Saturday, and they are falling in love.
They track down good food places, visit an art gallery and Lily already wants to kiss James between the paintings.
They look in at clothing stores that are too posh for their tastes, and they find a vintage store that has a dusty typewriter in the window, and it's so beautiful both of them want to cry. James wants to kiss Lily on the cobbled streets then and there.
Its nightfall and neither is ready to go home, and so James has a cheeky grin on his face as he receives a message from Sirius.
Wanna go clubbing tonight?
So, he texts his reply.
Only if I can bring another friend. To keep me sane.
He gets a response back.
Fine. Deal, only if she is hot and likes Arsenal.
He snorts, and he asks her.
"Actually, do you want to go to a club tonight? One of my friends is going and he wants me to come, so…" He trails off, unsure if it will be the end of the 'date.'
Lily only smiles, taking his hand as she leads him through the streets as she says "Deal."
It is loud and sweaty and Lily meets Sirius Black in the crowded club known as The Three Broomsticks. Lily thinks it is a whimsical name, but adores it all the same. Sirius is shouting as he greets her, and Lily shouts back.
"IT'S NICE TO MEET YOU," she says, swaying to the music, while James is grabbing drinks. Sirius is head banging, hair flying, and Lily can't help but laugh as he replies "YOU TOO. HAS PRONGS KISSED YOU YET?" He does not even think twice, and Lily is happy but taken aback, unsure if he was drunk already or if he was always like this.
Slowly, unsteadily, she replies with "No," exhaling as she says it.
Sirius nods along, looking disappointed. "SHAME. HE SHOULD." And, with that, he dances away, hip bumping James as he takes the Tequila from him.
James laughs as he meets Lily again, they swallow down their shots with winces pulled across their features, and then they dance.
Sirius grins at them as he watches them dance, even as he dances with another girl. They have to be together. They have to.
And they dance until the stars collide.
The door is kicked open and he can't get enough of her as he holds her against the wall of his flat. Her breaths are being drawn in sharply and he's breathing her in like it's his final day on earth, hands are roaming over skin and fingers are entangled in both black and ginger hair. Lips are smashing together and teeth are clashing and colliding and her legs are around his hips, and they both know they want nothing more than each other. Lily's trying to decide whether to open her eyes or not, wanting to see him, but unsure that will ruin the feeling of him. She flickers them open for a brief moment and sees his glasses and his hair and the tiny flutters of his white flat, spluttered with paint and ink and coffee. She spots a table full of empty and half-empty alcohol bottles, but she's so caught up in his lips she doesn't really notice. She knows she's more than a little drunk, but she's clear-headed enough to know that James is all she wants.
He can feel her hands twirling in his hair and wants so desperately to see her, but he decides it's better that he doesn't. She'll be beautiful no matter what. Her lips are chapped and he knows his are too, and he knows he's drunk again. He wishes he wasn't because he wants to remember, for the first time in so long, he wants to rememeber. He knows, deep down, he won't, and she does too, but that doesn't stop them from digging fingernails into backs and falling into the pillows, each enchanted by the other.
They get lost in James' sheets.
Her eyes flutter open as the sun filters through the room, and she feels the warmth of another human around her. His arm is slung around her, and she smiles gently and she's almost content to go back to sleep, and then her eyes snap back open as she realises she's not in her bed. Nor does she have any clothes on.
Panic rises in her chest, and the previous night's events flash before her. The coffee. The wandering. The wondering. The club, the drinks, the dancing. Sirius leaving with a girl. James and Lily leaving together…. Oh god.
She clambers out of the bed as she checks the time, collecting her clothes as her head spins.
James jolts awake. "What's up, babe?" He hasn't felt this content in so long. He hopes he hasn't fucked it up already. Did I say something to her about Daisy…?
Lily's heart aches at the word babe. She wants to stay. She does. She wants to get to know him, make food, and go to more art galleries. She wants to kiss him, and more importantly, she wants to remember their first kiss. But she can't.
She told Ange she'd come into work, because there was paperwork and things to do before the Publishing Office opened again on Monday.
"No, its all fine, James. I just… I told work I'd come in today," She says as she pulls her dress back on, glancing around for her boots.
"Why are you going to work on a Sunday?" He asks, puzzled, because he feels a tug in his heart, and he doesn't want her to leave. She's making him feel things.
"Yeah, my boss has to go through paperwork, and she wants me to do a special task for her."
"And what's that?" James asks, wanting to write of her in that moment, watching her get dressed in a flurry of red hair and green eyes.
"I'm not sure, actually," She replies, biting her lip.
He wants to kiss her again.
"Will you call me?" He says, knowing that maybe this period of feeling something is just a one stand, but Lily's eyes brighten and she nods.
"Sure. But my number is already on that napkin, so maybe you should call me," she winks.
James chuckles at her wit, and she comes closer to say goodbye.
"Do you know the way from here? From my flat?" he says as her lips hover millimetres from his.
"Yeah." She presses her lips against his lips softly but firmly, and he knows that this hope can't just disappear.
She leaves quietly out his door, padding down the steps until the noise disappears.
James falls back into his sheets, day dreaming about her, before grabbing a pen and writing her down, trying to capture how she's making him feel.
"MS EVANS! Thank God you're here love; I've missed your charm." Ange's dark skin is warm as she pulls Lily into a good-natured hug.
The office lacks its usual busyness and warmth, as only a few people wander through the building. However, it still has the aroma of coffee and vanilla seeping across each desk, and Lily exhales in peace.
"Always a pleasure, Ange." Lily smirks as they release.
"So, what can I do for you?" Lily asks, sleepy but eager to work, because maybe if she gets this done quick enough, she can go see James again.
"Well, dear, there's some scripts that I need to take home and read, but I trust your judgement, so I was hoping you can read a few, and fill out all the forms, etcetera. But that's not why you're here,"
Lily's eyebrows furrow as Ange passes her a caramel latte with a wink.
She takes the warmth in her hands and as she takes a sip she feels the caffeine and sugar enter her system slowly, slowly, slowly, her senses awakening a little bit more.
"Well then, why am I here?" Lily said between gulps, and Ange smiles.
"Your female charm and powers of persuasion." Ange's grey eyes piece through Lily's green ones and she swallows her coffee, feeling even more confused, and a fluttering in her chest erupts as she begins to grow anxious
"Ange-"
Ange doesn't wait for Lily's objections.
"There's an author who signed a sequel deal and has now disappeared off the face of the earth, without turning in the new chapters. We know he's currently in London, and I'd like you to find him and find out why the chapters aren't here." Ange hands her some papers and Lily protests mildly. "Who's the author?"
"James Potter."
She's emailed him from Ange's laptop, she's scheduled to meet up with him in a café. She's picked a different one to the one they met in.
She hopes he won't ask why she didn't come back to his flat.
The truth is, she just can't go back. Ange has told her why he hasn't turned in the book. She knows about his lover, Daisy, who was killed in a road accident last Christmas. How can she look at him now? How does she know that he wasn't thinking about Daisy that whole night? How does she know it was real? It couldn't be real. It was just business, now, anyway.
The coffee shop lacked the same warmth that the one they met in had. There was no bunting, no vintage posters and smell of caramel was somehow bitter.
Maybe it's not the coffee that makes the café, Lily wonders as she sips her coffee sadly, dreading the moment that James will walk in.
He walks in a moment after the thought enters her head, and her lungs seize and her fingers tremble.
He doesn't know where he's supposed to be looking, and he's already anxious because he doesn't know anything. How is he going to tell a publisher he's mourning? They won't care. He's looking for some stuffy old woman with Dame Edna glasses and a cup that says soy on it, but what catches his eye is the ginger hair, a leather notebook and a cup that says Caramel. He's spotted her instantly, but he doesn't know why she's here.
Then it hits him. Publisher's office. Why he hasn't seen her since she left his flat on Sunday.
Lily is whom he's meeting with.
He sits down at the table across from her, never breaking eye contact as he does so. His heart is shattering. How much does she know?
"So, Mr. Potter," Lily begins in a voice dripping of professionalism, so much so that James almost doesn't catch the tremble on the end.
"My co-workers have informed me that after signing a contract to write and publish the sequel to your debut novel, tomorrow's eclipse, you have failed to turn in more than the prologue. I have arranged to meet with you to discuss why, and what we shall do if the chapters are not turned in." She shuffles the paperwork on the table before her, and he thinks she has almost fooled him. He almost does not know her.
But he's not happy or patient enough to play along.
"Lily, can we just drop this and talk like we know each other? Why didn't you answer my calls?"
Lily's façade drops with a twitch of an eyebrow and she drops the paperwork on the bench exasperatedly.
"Because you're part of my work life now!" her hair is falling out of the messy bun atop her head, and he wants to cup her face, but it feels wrong now. He waits for further explanation.
"And besides, you never even mentioned Daisy once!"
She is huffing and pushing away her coffee, and James is under the impression she has been angry about this all week.
Now he is angry too.
"What was I supposed to say?! I like you, we spent a whole day together, let's go clubbing with my best mate Sirius, let's spend the night together, oh, and by the way, my girlfriend died suddenly last year and it still hurts to breathe! But it's okay, I want to make this work and I want to know you, so don't worry about her!" He means the last bit, and his lungs feels like holes have been punched into them as he said it.
His voice is rising and people around them stop their meals hesitantly, but Lily ushers him back before he can cause a scene.
"Well, I'm sorry," Her voice is lowered and her eyes are dark. "I just thought if I was so important to you, you could have said something about her. I didn't want to find out through work,"
His expression softens as he remembers the night they were together, the frailness of her touch as she kissed him, besotted but scared he might break. She knew something was up, and she waited for him to tell her, but he didn't.
"I'm sorry, too. I would have said something, but I just- Can't."
Lily's gaze shifts, and she doesn't want to be angry anymore. She just wants to be done.
"Well," She picks the paperwork up again. "Do you still want the sequel deal or not?"
James sighs, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair.
"I don't know. I need to finish it, but I don't know how."
Lily's eyebrows crease again and she is flickering, unsure whether to be Lily Evans, assistant extraordinaire, or Lily Evans, writer and care –giver extraordinaire. She decides that what James needs is the latter. She softens.
"James," Her voice has gone hoarse and she hesitantly leans forward to hold his hand. He takes her hand in his, and he feels another spark of life, but it's quieter now. This isn't excited, it's raw, it's tender, but he knows it's real.
"Why do you want to finish so badly? What's holding you back?" her emerald eyes are pouring into his hazel ones and he knows she understands, so he tells her.
"Because it's about her."
Lily realises and finishes the thought for him, gripping his hand tighter as she does, because his knuckles are white and a tear rolls down his cheek.
"You want to finish it so you can stop missing her, but you don't want to finish it because you don't want the last shred of her to be gone,"
He only nods.
She exhales and lets go of his hand for a moment, thinking.
Her notebook is open and she flits through it thoughtfully, and he looks up at her, his frown mirroring hers. She's looking for something.
Abruptly, as if she was never looking, she shuts the notebook and looks at him dead in the eye, and her voice is unwavering this time, gentle but fierce.
"Can I read the prologue?"
He nods and places a USB in her hands.
"Read it and meet me at the café tomorrow morning. The one we met in."
And with that, he gets up and walks away.
She practically jams the USB into her laptop the moment she gets to her flat, desperate to devour his words. She needs to know what he's thinking. She read the first book the other night, in one sitting, and she needs to know more. She loves it.
She's tense and her eyes are round as she collapses on the couch, scrolling through the words as quickly as she's breathing. At some point, she forgets to breathe, because she's still so entranced with his words. He's inspiration in human form.
She scans the last words into her brain and her mind is wired.
Without thinking, she opens a new document and writes a continuation, filling the pages with her poetry, inspired and on fire.
She has no breath left as she throws herself onto the coffee table where James sits, sipping his coffee with a sorrowful look. His eyes light up when she enters, but her panicked expression makes his brows furrow with concern.
"You didn't like it?" He's wincing, because if Lily doesn't care, why should anyone else?
Lily swallows, unsure of what to say. "It's not that... I just… I'm sorry."
She hands him back the USB, and he's thinking that she hates it, the deal is off, he's not good enough, he can't move on from Daisy.
But Lily only says, "Read it… I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."
He opens his laptop with confusion, inserting the USB with fumbling fingers as he exhales a trembling breath. He doesn't understand.
Then he opens the file and sees it.
Lily has written a whole other chapter.
His eyes unfurrow with wonder and delight, and also with terror. He doesn't know what to think.
He reads it, and Lily sits across from him and bits her lip, drawing quietly in her notebook, tapping her foot. She's so anxious she can't stay still.
He's enchanted by it, to say the least. She tells it so perfectly, and he knows it's not his voice, but it fits so well.
Maybe this new perspective is what he needs to finally end the chapter of his life that's causing him so much pain.
"Write it with me."
His words drop into the thick silence and Lily chokes on air.
"What?"
"Write it with me, Lil," He says, again, taking her hand and wiping away one of her tears.
"Why?" She says, sniffling in shock.
"Because you're the most brilliant writer whose work I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Because I'm falling in love with my work again now. Because I have a new perspective now. Because your view and your style is what's going to finish this book." He's still gripping her hand so tightly, and she stands up so abruptly and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. His scent is beautiful, but all she can smell is the saltiness of her tears.
"Thank you," She whispers, and he barely catches it, but he smiles.
"WAIT." She says, pulling away jerkily, unsure.
"What?" James asks, confused again.
"Ange would never agree to this, I'm not a writer."
He only takes her hand again.
"Yes you are. Just let her read it. Please."
"But what if-"
"I'm not going to finish this book if you don't write it with me, Lil."
That silences her, and she kisses him right there in that café, all salt water and coffee breath. Neither of them breathe, committing this kiss to memory, grasping to replace the first kiss they shared.
Ange slips the glasses off her nose ever so slightly, and Lily's breathe catches in her throat.
James slips his hand into hers from beneath the table.
"Well," Ange says, looking back and forth between James and Lily.
Lily cannot read her expression.
"I…."
The words won't come fast enough.
"I loved it."
James and Lily exhale in unison, breaking eye contact with Ange to smile at each other.
Ange breaks into her overjoyed reviewing.
"The contrasting voices, my I loved it, Evans does a brilliant job of imagery and Silvia's point of view, while Potter nails dialogue and David's complexity, I can see it in the papers, darlings. It's going to be a hit. And a book can be published twice as fast if it's co-written."
Lily pauses for a moment. "So you like my writing?"
Ange shifts, placing a hand on Lily's shoulder. "It's wonderful, Lily. You need to believe in yourself. This book will go places. "
Lily laughs, full bodied and happy. She's always wanted to hear that.
"You two may go. Discuss!" Ange shoos them away happily, reading over the chapters again.
Lily and James rush out of the building and as soon as they're outside the doors, they kiss, passionate and full, hopeful and ready to move forward together.
It is that same café that James Potter and Lily Evans finish the book, and James finally feels free of Daisy, and that she can be happy. It is here that Lily tells James she loves him, and she doesn't even mean to say it, she means it, and that's all that matters. It's here where they pitch books to each other, and its here, surrounded by caramel and love, that they find their peace.
Floating. Now he's floating. Always in love. She's here, she'll always be here, and she's fucking poetry. She will never leave because, as humans do, she loves. And so he always floats, loving, with the same fire in his bones, that how can life be this good? How can she be real? What books can be written now? What can he write for her? What can he write with her? He's in love and on fire, and that's all that matters.
Writing. Always writing, always loving. She is a writer; she will always be a writer, because she has always been good enough. She will always have him. She has him, and she has words, what more does she need? And so, she writes, in love and happy, a fire in her bones, because now she has books of her own. She wrote them. What can she write for him? What can she write with him? She's hopeful, in love and on fire, and that's all that matters.