Spontaneity
Lily Evans woke up everyday at precisely 7:15am. She went to the bathroom, had a shower, brushed her teeth, got dressed and brushed her hair. Day in day out, it was always the same routine. She had a group of friends who she sat with at lunch (she always had a sandwich with a pumpkin juice to wash it down) and good grades. Sometimes her friends would laugh and say you could time your watch by Lily Evans. Lily would only get mildly annoyed by this.
"Of course you can't," she said. "I might be a few seconds off." Though her tone was humorous there was a hint of warning in there as well.
Lily also had an admirer. An unwanted one of course, who asked her out every time he got the chance. James Potter, Quidditch star, popular, friends with the biggest player in the school: Sirius Black. This was one of the many reasons Lily refused to go out with him. Lily knew all too well how easy it was to be influenced buy your friends having once dressed in some vulgar outfit that made her look like a hooker to fit in. If straight-laced Lily was like that with her friends who knows what slightly-less-straight-laced Potter was like under Black's influence.
Then there was Potters hair. It looked like it had been the victim of too many hexes; all tousled like that, the complete opposite of Lily's hair, which was slightly curly yes but under control, always tied up neatly in a ponytail.
His eyes looked like murky pools of stagnant water, which to tell you the truth wasn't a great turn-on. His nails looked more like those belonging to a girl, long and healthily pink, unlike Lily's whose nails were bitten to the quick (you have to have an outlet). His voice was deep and scratchy reminding Lily of nails scraping down ice. All in all he was a thoroughly dislikable person. Pity she was the only student in the school who thought so, and pity that he only had eyes for her.
At breakfast she was daydreaming of ways to inhume Potter when a sharp nudge in her side broke through her reverie.
"Lily its Potter," whispered one of her friends.
"Yeah," whispered another. "You know he is almost as predictable as you. All these years and you would've thought he would get the message."
The word predictable struck a chord.
"What do you mean predictable?" Lily asked, her voice rising slightly.
"Lily you are the most predictable person I know, you do the same thing everyday."
"Yeah, your so, what's the word . . . stable."
Lily felt anger boil up inside her. What would they know? So she liked to stick to a schedule, so what?
She was just about to let loose on them when someone tapped her shoulder. She turned around to see Potter standing behind her.
Lily had an idea. I'll show you predictable, she thought.
"Hi Lily, I was wondering if you would like to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, just the two of us, on a date?"
"Sure James, when will I meet you? Say around eight?"
Lily practically heard her friends' jaws drop. She looked up and saw that Potter's had as well. In fact, the whole school was looking at her in shock.
She smiled again. And now for the cherry on top, she thought.
Lily stood up and kissed Po-James. A collective gasp rose from their audience.
As they kissed (James had begun to tentatively kiss back by now) Lily realised that she didn't mind his hair as she wound her fingers through it, or his nails, as they rubbed against her face as he stroked her cheek. And she definitely didn't hate his voice as he whispered her name when they drew back for air.
a/n
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