Disclaimer: Honestly. Do I look like J.K. Rowling?
A/N: I just got this idea and absolutely had to write it down. It's probably complete rubbish, but you can decide. Please please please tell me what you think in a review. I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy:D
I heard her descend the stone stairs as she made her way to the common room we shared as Heads. I tried desperately not to watch her as she stepped into the room.
"James?" Her voice was quiet, hesitant.
My head jerked up as she called to me. "Yeah?" She, of course, had my full attention, regardless of the rather intriguing novel I had been reading.
"Do you think we could talk?" During out time as Heads, Lily had come to see that I was, in fact, a decent human being. We had become exceedingly close. She told me just about everything. Once, she expressed why she felt as though I was the only one she could talk to. 'You're not like my other friends, James. You won't go and tell your friends what I say. You don't judge me. I trust you,' she had kindly stated. I was the lucky bloke who got to hear about her interest in that Ravenclaw boy or her well-deserved anger towards Malicia Troes. It practically killed me to hear about some things, but her comfort was more important. Talking with her like that just made my week that much better.
"Yeah, of course." I nodded to the space next to me, placing my book on the table beside the couch. "Sit down."
She sat and her hands flopped uselessly into her lap. I heard her sigh and took notice to the indecision flashing behind her eyes. She began twisting the ring she wore on her middle finger, a nervous habit of hers.
"Lily? I— what's wrong?" My eyebrows were knit together in concern.
She didn't reply. Her ring just kept going, round and round.
My hands reached out and held hers, ceasing the spinning. She entwined our fingers, a normal gesture for her to initiate. I had to stop myself from thinking how good our hands looked together. She turned around and made to sit in between my legs, resting her head on my chest. My pulse quickened at her nearness, something that was not at all unusual.
"Lily, what is it? What happened?" I was beginning to get worried.
I wrapped my arms around her waist, her hands still laced with mine, and pulled her closer.
"Nothingbad happened." She said softly. "No. Not bad at all."
"Well, are you going to tell me?" I asked after a long pause. I was still anxious, despite her words, and my patience was wearing thin. I stroked her finger with my thumb, failing not to think about how soft, how smooth her skin is.
"I think…" She began, and I could hear the smile in her voice, though I could not see her. All I could think of was how her body felt against mine, how warm and soothing the contact was. "I think I'm in love."
I'm quite sure my heart stopped beating. Lily was in love. She was in love. She had told me once before that she had never been in love, so I knew that this wasn't just some crush. She actually meant it. She was in love.
"Oh." Was all I could say, trying to speak past the lump in my throat. "Really?"
"Yes." She breathed. "I can't believe that it has taken me so long to realize it. He's just…marvelous."
"Yeah?" I was having trouble keeping my voice steady; it seemed to have raised another octave. "How so?"
"He's brilliant and caring and kind." I really didn't want to hear about this. Not at all. But listening to her talk about who she was entranced, having her break my heart, was better than not talking to her at all. Having all those conversations with her had become a necessity. If it stopped now, I don't know what I would do. "He's really great."
"Is that so?" I swallowed and I was sure she could hear it. I tried not to look at her scarlet hair, fanned out over her shoulders. I tried not to think about my hands still encircling her waist. I tried not to feel her small hands in mine.
"Yes." She sighed. "He's wonderful." She lifted her head and gazed into my eyes. I saw the utter happiness shining in the endless emerald. A small smile lifted her cheeks. I smiled back at her.
"He must be. After all, it's not just every guy that's worthy of the love of Lily Evans."
She laughed lightly and let her head fall back against my chest. "No one has ever treated me as kindly as he has."
She just kept plunging the knife in deeper and deeper with every word.
"That's good, Lily. You need someone who cares for you." If she's happy, it doesn't matter. If she's happy, then you'll be happy too. These words kept running through my mind. As long as she was happy, it didn't matter what happened to me.
"Yeah, I do." We were silent for a few moments, my thumb still stroking hers', before she spoke again. "What happens—what happens when he becomes tired of me?"
"Lily, no one could ever grow tired of you." I said reassuringly.
"And when someone better comes along, what then?" I began to hear the real fear in her voice.
"There is no one better to come along, Lily. No one out there could surpass you." Which was precisely the reason I was having trouble breathing. Why I was so upset at having realized I would never have the only woman I would ever love.
"How are you so sure?" I could hear her voice wobbling. "He— he could have any girl he ever desired. There are aurors and models and shop owners and brilliant scholars out there. Who's to say he wouldn't prefer one of them over me?"
"Because, Lily, it's just not possible." I didn't like seeing her so unsure of herself. How could she not know her beauty, her strength, her intelligence?
"What about when he breaks my heat?" She whispered. "How do you fix something like that?"
"You won't have to. Any man would have to be absolutely mad to leave you." My heart constricted at her pain.
"What if he doesn't love me back? What if he hates me?"
"You— you haven't told him yet?" I asked, the smallest glimmer of hope floating before me.
She pulled in a shaky breath. "No. I'm too afraid." She turned and buried her head into my chest. I could feel her warm breath through my soft sweater.
"Lily." I said softly. "You should tell him." The words killed me. It was a struggle to get them out. To set her free.
She looked up at me, hope glinting in her shining eyes. "James." She said softly, but with conviction. "I love you."
For the second time that night, my heart stopped beating. "What? What did you say?"
"I love you, James." She murmured, louder this time.
"Lily." It's such a strange thing to have your heart feel like it has been cut in half one moment and then feel as though it was never tarnished at all the next. "I love you too."