To my bed.
Her bed had always been a rather sacred place to her. Personal, perhaps a better word. A place where she always felt safe. Where she allowed herself to dream, to think the thoughts she kept at bay during daytime. All her desires, wishes, fantasies, memories, hopes, and dreams were allowed access to her there. Only in this bed could she close her eyes to the real world and lose herself in her own mind.
Her bed held secrets of long nights, where not even a wink of sleep was obtained. Nights where the young girl had dreamed herself a fantasy life, the sullen teenager had wept at the injustice of the world, and the young woman had let herself look forward to the future and what was to come.
Yes, her bed was a private place, holding thousands upon thousands of secrets. It was after all where she spent fifty percent, perhaps more, of her time. Long winter nights, wrapped up in thick blankets. Hot summer evenings laying spread-eagled on top of the thin sheets. Rainy days spent reading books and magazines, and lazy hours writing letters to her friends.
Slumber parties, midnight feasts, tears and tantrums, exuberant jumping, games of hide and seek under the blankets: her bed had experienced it all.
But now it was all wrong. The atmosphere in her room was all wrong.
"There is a boy in my bed," Lily hissed into the telephone's received. "A boy. In my bed!"
"Well how did he get there?" Came the calm voice of Lily's friend, Alice Longbottom, down the telephone line.
"How am I supposed to know? I didn't put him there." Lily was careful to keep her indignant voice low. She didn't want him waking up.
"Can you get rid of him?"
"I don't think so. Not without him waking up at any rate. What am I supposed to do? This is my bed."
"Maybe you should just leave him there," suggested Alice, calmly.
"Leave him there?!" Lily hissed in outrage. "It's my bed!" But Lily had noticed the sleeping figure start to move and awaken, and hastened to end her conversation. "Gotta go." She slammed the phone down in its cradle and stood over the bed, her arms crossed across her chest.
The sleepy figure stretched and sat up, wiping sleepy dust from his eyes and yawning. " 'Morning Lils," he muttered and smiled serenely up at her.
"You're in my bed," she said quietly, her bright green eyes flashing dangerously.
"Well, yes. Is that a problem?"
"Of course it's a problem," Lily wailed. "It's my bed."
The young man cocked his eyebrow at her. "You sleep in my bed," he pointed out.
"That's different," she replied. "It's your bed. This, however, is my bed. And you're in it. Get out."
The young man shrugged, felt around on the nightstand for his spectacles, jammed them on his nose and got out of bed.
He was stark naked.
"You slept in my bed," she said softly. "In the nude."
"Yeah," he replied, looking bewildered.
"My bed," Lily repeated.
"I wasn't the only naked one. You were too."
"It's my bed!" Lily wailed. "It's different. I'm allowed to be naked in it. You, however, are not!"
The bespectacled man did not respond until he had finished dressing and tousled his hair in what he clearly hoped was a fashionable way. He then sunk his hands deep into his pockets and surveyed the fiery woman in front of him. "Lily Potter," he began. "This can't happen every time we visit your parents' house. This strange attachment of yours to this bed is, well, unhealthy."
"It's my bed," Lily whispered.
He strode to her, buried his hands deep in her thick hair, leant her head backwards and kissed her hungrily on the mouth. After a moment or two, he broke away and grinned at her. "I'm a part of you, Lily. I'm your hopes, dreams, desires, fantasies. I belong in that bed as much as they do. Now get back in it so we can give it a new experience." And with that, he led his wife back over to the bed and pushed her down onto it.
"Just be careful, James. It's just…well, it's my bed."
Hope you enjoyed! Please Review! xx