Little one shot because I've dug up my dad's old CDs and this is based on my favourite Boyzone song (:
He liked the way she said his name, grudgingly calling him 'James', like it pained her tremendously to not say 'Potter' instead, because old habits die hard. And he liked her name even more, whether it was 'Evans' to piss her off or 'Lily' when he was just with her. On his lips, it just felt... Right.
He found the way she kissed him incredibly endearing. They rarely made out because she hated PDA and he could tell she felt like a hypocrite when she kissed him, really quickly and so soft it was barely there, but it was, and he felt it.
And then there was the way her fingers somehow always found their way to his hair. Whether it was to mess it up, or smooth it down, even she admitted she couldn't help it. When she ran her fingers through his hair, kissing him lightly and giggling at the perplexed expression she said he always wore. The way he could somehow always smell her perfume even when she was with her friends, or when he was at Quidditch (which she hated); her scent seemed to be permanently lingering on him now.
He adored her laugh, a peal of bells, and the way she threw her head back, the way most other girls wouldn't dare to, her eyes sparkling and dancing like tiny balls of fire, lighting up her whole face. How often had he teased her and tickled her, just to hear her laugh? It made him happy, for some reason, even happier than beating Slytherin at Quidditch or seeing the shy Remus get a date.
He complained so much to the Marauders about how she took forever to shower, and wasn't two hours in the bath too much even for a girl, but really he couldn't care less. It made her her.
Whenever they drove anywhere and he played one of his old R'n'B CDs and belted out the song, insanely off key, yelling into the sky, she would roll her eyes and laugh her laugh, and throw some insult at him. He found it hilarious, because she wasn't much better than he was, but driving down the highway pretending to be Muggles and singing at the top of their voices didn't hurt.
He didn't get chick flicks. He didn't get the way the girls could watch them over and over again and cry. But the way she cried, so innocently, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. It broke his heart, but it was her, and he liked it too.
His favourite memory of her was a trip to Hogsmeade. It'd been a double date with Sirius and Nat, and they'd been in the Three Broomsticks, laughing and talking, when suddenly there was thunder and lightning and it began to pour. He'd swore and sulked, especially since Sirius and Nat hadn't seemed to mind and were talking quietly, sharing Sirius's coat. She'd looked at them, then at him, and grinned a grin so mischievous he'd only seen it a few times on her.
"Let's go out," she'd said.
"Lily," he'd replied incredulously. "It's pouring."
She'd squeezed his hand and simply said, "I know."
And they'd danced in the rain, facing the dark sky, with everyone staring like they had gone completely mad. He was used to getting soaked by rain, but he didn't necessarily enjoy it. But later, looking at Lily with her red hair plastered to her face and smiling so happily at him, he'd had the sudden feeling that he'd do it everyday if Lily wanted him too.
But what he loved about her... It wasn't obvious, and she denied it so much sometimes even he had doubts. But she was always there for him, strong when he needed help, wild when he needed a friend, and she was so calm. But with Lily, it was just so easy, so simple, so clear. What he loved was the way she loved him.
fin.