She had long last track of how much time had passed since she had first started staring up at the canopy of his bed. It was dark in the room and it smelled like socks, boy and something singed (probably from prank preparation), but James was next to her, and with each breath she took she could smell his aftershave and body wash.
She squeezed his hand to see if he was still awake as well and the reassuring constriction of his hand around hers made the burden of breathing a tad more bearable. Their palms were sweaty where they pressed together and the slickness reminded her of third years with their clammy hands excited and nervous for their first date in Hogsmeade.
She was nervous. She was pretty sure that he was too. This situation wasn't completely new. She had held his hand before and she had been in his room before, but this time was different. He was worried about her, she knew. And she was worried over everything else because tragedy striking didn't mean that everything else in her life had stopped too. She had so much more to worry about.
A year ago wouldn't have had her in the same room as him if she could help it, and now she was in his room, on his bed, holding his hand like a little girl afraid of the dark. And she was - she was that scared little girl who knew that monsters lived under her bed and just wanted her dad to come scare them away. Her dad wouldn't though. He was dead. He was dead, and Lily was a little girl scared of the dark.
His voice cracked like dry wood and she wondered if hers would too if she ever opened her mouth, "Lil?" She turned her eyes on him, and he swore that they were glowing from how bright they were. "Do you need anything?"
She shook her head, her hair tugging against the fabric of his pillowcase. She knew that it would resemble a rats nest by tomorrow morning, but Hell if she wasn't a mess herself already. He sighed, barely audible, but loud enough to be heard over the absolute stillness of the room. The boys were probably all asleep by now. They had offered to stay up with her, good lads that they were, but Lily insisted that they get to rest. James stayed up though. He always stayed up for her.
Maybe that was why she had came and found him tonight over everyone else. Mary would've taken her in with open arms, and Lily was sure that any one of her other friends would have gladly done the same, but she had wanted James. James who could still draw a smile out of her even on her worst days. James with his lewd jokes and lanky walk and crazy hair and soft eyes. James who would give her the world if he could. James who let her into his bed, no questions asked, and held her hand to let her know she wasn't alone. James.
She could faintly hear Sirius snoring in the next bed over and Remus rolling onto his side, but she didn't pay them any attention. She was still looking at James, studying his face. She had memorized the weave of his canopy already and now she dragged her eyes over the long planes of his face. He had a very triangular nose, she noticed, but it suited him. His hair looked like black fire across his pillowcase and his glasses were bent slightly from him wearing them while lying down. His lips were pulled down on the sides and she couldn't help but think of how very attractive he was even with his expression sullen like it was now.
She thought more on how willing he was to be there for her so completely and she felt a tingly warmth spread up her arms. It felt like her body was waking up after hibernating for too long, and she held onto it for as long as she could. The realization she was coming to was one that she had had before, but every time she dared to think on it, it prodded the same reaction.
She didn't think before she spoke, but she didn't regret it when she did. "You love me."
For his part, he only stiffened a very small amount, and she watched him swallow before he replied. His adam's apple bobbed and he exhaled, "Yes."
She didn't say anything back to that, continuing to observe him. She had known for a while that he cared deeply for her - always had. Her lips were tugged into a frown when she thought back on their relationship before they had grown close. She couldn't imagine where she would be without him right now. She loved him too, and she knew that she did. She had considered asking him out before she got the letter from her mum, but that felt like a whole other lifetime. She was just glad that he was at her side.
His eyes were more alert now than they had been two minutes ago, and she wondered if the same warm feeling spread through him when he thought about her. His face was purposefully blank and she wished that he would smile so that she could watch his dimples appear.
"Lil?" He was quiet, his deep voice washing over her like a ray of sunshine in a room that was way too dark. She revelled in it.
"I love you too, you know." She whispered back almost immediately. The words came quickly, but her expression didn't change from the blank impassive slate that it had slipped into for the past week.
"I do." He cleared his throat, "Yeah, I do."
"You haven't done anything about it." She flatly responded. She had wondered about his hesitance in taking their relationship past friendship before, and she hadn't been able to draw up a suitable conclusion. She flicked her eyes back to his canopy and vaguely pondered if it were such a bright idea to be talking about this right now. Then again, she considered it better than the alternative.
"No," he nodded, his glasses catching the rays of moonlight that came in through the window.
"Is it because he died?" Her calm facade cracked then, the quickest flash of agony came across her face, and he watched her struggle to hold back tears. He held her hand harder and tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear.
"No, it's not," His lips dipped at the sadness in her eyes and leaned towards her to press a gentle kiss on her forehead. He lingered in it for a moment and then pulled back to look at her again.
Only a few tears had spilled over her eyelids and she ignored them to ask, "Why then?"
"Time wasn't right. Wanted to be sure. Didn't want to push," he spoke in slow-paced fragments and she nodded very slightly with each one.
"Those are all very good reasons," she pointed out.
"I thought so too."
They lapsed back into silence and she sought comfort in the gentle tugging of the duvet he pulled in with each breath. She knew that he was exhausted and she felt badly that she had commandeered his bed tonight, but he insisted that it was okay. He was the only one that was treating her normally after the news became public. Everyone just kept on staring at her in pity like she needed them to be sad for her. It was annoying her and making her angry and he just stood there and silently served as a source of comfort.
It wasn't surprising, really. He had lost his dad too. Fleamont had passed last year, and James had to know better than anyone else that one of the worst parts was that your life didn't only feel like it had changed. It had changed - not just because something - someone - vital was missing, but because no one was treating you the same. Nothing was normal and it left you so much more to try and cope with.
But James didn't act different. He looked concerned for her, yes, but that wasn't unwarranted. He still treated her the same as always. Still smiled at her in the morning. Still loved her. He was steady and she was eating that up like it was going out of style. A few more tears leaked from her eyes, and she squeezed his hand harder. The silence was getting unbearable, and she craved to hear his deep voice again.
"Don't give up on me," she whispered.
His head turned back to her in surprise, "Lily - what? Why would I - "
Her hold body tensed in her effort to hold back more tears and she squeezed his hand in what she was sure was a painful grasp. She gasped, "No. I - I know I'm a pain, James. I know." The deep breath she sucked in caused her to sound wheezy and a few tears slipped from her eyes despite her best efforts. "I just need you to listen, okay? Because I know - I know I've been awful. I was so mean to you and I'm sorry, I really am. But you can't give up on me, all right? Because it's taken a while but I've finally come round to you and I don't want to lose you, but I'm not ready for more things to change. I can't handle it right now. I need you and I love you, but I can't do anything about it. Not yet. So I need you to be a little more patient, kay? Just don't give up on me. I need you more than I'm willing to admit half the time and the idea of losing you too is just too much. Please. Please just wait a little longer."
James sat up on the bed and his face hovered over hers. Her vision was blurred from the tears in her eyes and James reached his free hand to swipe them away. "Oh, Evans what am I to do with you?" From how lightly he had spoken, Lily assumed that he hadn't actually intended for her to hear the words he had sighed. When he spoke again, it was louder, "I'm not going to leave you, Lily. I promise you."
The mucus in her throat had to be swallowed down before she could talk and she finally pulled her hand from James' in order to lift herself too into a sitting position. "Don't promise if you're not going to keep it," she whispered.
James pulled her into his arms and marveled for a half second over how perfectly she fitted against him. "I don't make my promises lightly, Lily. I can be patient for you."
Her breathing became a little less labored in his arms and he wondered at how the world had been blessed with an angel like her. He didn't need to look down to see the dark bags that she had been carrying under her eyes the past few days and he silently hoped that she might finally be getting some sleep.
"I hate this war," she whispered.
"I do too," He whispered back. She looked up at him to see him glance over at Sirius' bed and felt him tense a little once more. "I hate it for a lot of reasons."
She didn't ask if his mind had wandered over to Regulus Black, knowing that it had. She didn't want him angry though, she just wanted him to be her James. She reached her free hand up to his cheek and gently turned his head to look back at her.
"Will you tell me a story?"
He smiled at that, still tinged with sadness, but a smile all the same. "What would you like to hear, Miss Lily? One of the great adventures of the daring and noble Marauders?"
She closed her eyes and felt her lips drift into a smile at his over-enthusiastic wording, "Yes. Please." She leaned more heavily into his embrace.
James laid back on his bed and was pleased when Lily remained curled into his side rather than returning to just holding his hand. James pulled the blanket that his mom had knit him a little higher on her lithe form, thinner than it should be from her lack of eating, and began. "Well once upon a time, four troublemakers had grown bored in the world of homework and monotony… "
Lily didn't hear the rest of the story as she fell asleep on James Potter's bed, but she dreamt of her four merry marauders and slept properly for the first time in a week.