This is the first time she can remember seeing him without a shirt.
Once or twice in earlier years, she had come across him in less attire than appropriate after a Quidditch match or by the lake on a hot day, but she had blushed a bright scarlet and turned away before any unclothed body part of James could be committed to her memory.
And of course, a good portion of her time this year has been spent imagining him shirtless. Wondering what lay beneath the crisp white shirts and her mind tracing the path of skin following those two top buttons, always undone. Many a minute in Potions class was spent imagining him in compromising positions while waiting for her potions to brew.
But this, this is far different. She is lying on his bed in his dormitory and it is far past curfew. She can hear the other boys snoring from various other parts of the room. The dark red curtains of the four-poster block out almost all of the light, but their eyes have adjusted enough to see one another.
He seems just as preoccupied with her state of undress as she is with his. Her pyjama shirt is completely unbuttoned, leaving him a clear view of expanse of lace and skin underneath. His shirt has been discarded entirely.
"Lily," James says. It almost sounds like a question. His voice is hoarse, perhaps from disuse or from the tension that is visible in his body.
James looks nervous. Awkward, even. All pretense of his usual bravado has been dropped. His glasses are pushed up on his forehead, giving her a clearer view of his eyes. They crinkle at the corners, lifting up with his tentative grin. His body is slim, as it was when they were children, but he has grown into it more. He seems very conscious of the way her eyes wander from his neck down to his hips and back up again. Lily sees his Adam's apple bob up and down and it makes her want to smile.
"James," Lily counters. She leans forward and brushes her lips against his quickly. She feels body relax against her as his arms slide around her waist.
He pulls her closer, pressing his lips to whatever bare skin he can reach. "Lily," he repeats with more confidence, returning his mouth to hers. This time it sounds like praise. One hand has tangled itself in her hair and the other is tracing patterns on her back.
Her heart thuds against her chest, and she can almost feel his beat back. She thought she would be more nervous, being this close to James. But even though he thinks he is too skinny and she thinks that her stomach should be flatter, this is most comfortable she has ever been. The most comfortable she ever will be, she thinks.
The thought does not surprise her at all.