A/N: I never write songfics. I don't necessarrrrilllllllllyyyyy look at this as a songfic, but it was definitely inspired by a song (Tee Shirt, by Birdy. Listen to it, now. It's gorgeous.) But anyway, I don't like songfics and I should really be updating Happy Accidents (check it out!), but this idea was running around in my brain all evening and wouldn't go away until I let it out. So here it is. Hopefully it makes sense, as I've been at work all day and should really be sleeping right now. Oh well.
Disclaimer: Jo Rowling is everything, Birdy is everything, I am just enjoying being able to play in their worlds.
In the morning when you wake up
I like to believe you are thinking of me.
And when the sun comes through your window
I like to believe you've been dreaming of me.
Dreaming.
I'd know, 'cause I've spent half this morning thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in.
I should know, 'cause I'd spend all the whole day listening to the message I'm keeping,
And never deleting.
Lily Evans woke with the sun one Saturday morning, early in the spring. Its friendly rays streamed through her cracked open bedroom window, the panes warming with its glow and casting specks of light across her cheeks. She rolled over, hands searching for the warm body she'd fallen asleep next to, and unhappily found the bed empty.
Lily yawned, stretching her long arms high above her head, then flicked a stray piece of auburn hair out of her eyes, wondering idly where he could be. Silently slipping from her four-poster bed, she padded to the door, still wiping the sleep from her eyes. It was still slightly ajar from when he had left, and beyond it, she could make out the Heads common room, sun-dappled and shiny as her bedroom was, but disappointingly just as empty. Lily started down the stairs from her private room, straining her ears for the sound of the shower or the bumps of his his clumsy movements from his own bedroom – anything to reassure her of his presence.
He was not there, but a quick glance around their shared common room told her that a small piece of parchment was. Addressed to her. She glanced down at it, and stifled the need to roll her eyes at the nickname he'd begun with.
Lils,
Had an early Quidditch practice scheduled. Tried to get out of it, but the Captain's a right arse.
She chuckled to herself, a hand coming to reach her lips, which were still swollen from their activities the night before. If anybody else had been named Quidditch captain their seventh year, it would have been a travesty. He was indisputably the best player Hogwarts had seen in years, though she wouldn't inflate his ego by saying it to his face.
Should be back around midday. Try not to miss me too much, though you know I'll be missing you. I'll be so distracted, I'll fly into the goalposts like I did the time you yelled that you wished me luck from the stands in sixth year.
You have no idea how hard it was to leave you this morning, looking as beautiful as you did.
Thinking of you now and always.
She sighed happily, falling back onto the plush couch that sat in the middle of the room, drenched in natural light. Lily read the simple message several more times before tucking it away in the pocket in her pajama pants for safekeeping. She spread her limbs across the sofa, which was a brilliant shade of burgundy, and slightly worn from years of use. To Lily, it was her favorite place in the whole world. It was a place of companionship, of shared space and shared dreams. She had fallen in love with a magnificent boy with mussed hair and a lopsided smile on this old, comfortable couch.
Thinking of him, she snuggled back into the sofa, her arms encircling herself and squeezing tight, barely allowing herself to believe the strength of the feelings she now felt.
A piece of fabric bunched behind her, drawing her attention. It was the tee shirt he'd worn to bed the night before. It smelled distinctly of him; the spice of broom polish and the comfort of fresh soap, and just the slightest hint of decidedly masculine sweat. Lily felt her cheeks heat as she inhaled its scent, remembering the events of the previous night that had left him a bit sweaty. He must have stripped off the article of clothing before Quidditch practice and left it to sit in the living room. She rolled her eyes, smirking slightly. He was such a slob.
Absentmindedly thinking of him, she cracked open a book she'd recently left on the coffee table near the couch, and began to read. She unconsciously draped his discarded tee shirt across her shoulders, just near enough so that she could inhale his smell. It wasn't long before she drifted off again, the book slipping from her limp hand and an easy smile flicking across her face as she dreamed of soft, romantic kisses and hazel eyes.
Hours later, James Potter opened the portrait hall of the Heads common room to find a girl snoring softly on the couch. Her pink lips were agape, and a book lay haphazardly on the carpet beneath her, where it had clearly fallen from her grasp. He smiled, thinking that she made the most beautiful picture he'd ever seen, the mid-afternoon sunshine dancing across her face, lighting hair like a crimson halo. His grin only widened when he recognized the item of clothing she was cuddling with.
He gently grabbed a lock of her hair, marveling at how its silky strands felt between his fingers, and proceeded to tickle her face with it, chuckling to himself as she twitched and scrunched, before her eyes snapped open to meet his. Bottle green stared into hazel as she took a beat to register that he was there with her, and not just in a dream. She blinked hard, and in tantalizingly slow-motion, grabbed the back of his head and pulled it towards her, her eyes fluttering closed as she met his lips, brushing it with soft, sleepy kisses. James realized she was smiling against his lips.
"You tell that Quidditch Captain of yours that weekend practices should be held at a later hour," she murmured into his mouth.
"I'll do what I can," James said, secretly vowing to never schedule the pitch before three pm ever again.
"Mmm," he could feel her lips widen into a grin, and he tasted a hint of spearmint toothpaste as her warm breath entered his own mouth. She pulled back, slowly as she had come, and smiled at him, simply saying nothing. He was caught off guard with the sudden thought that he was the luckiest man in the world. It wasn't a new feeling.
"I love you, Lily." He could hear his voice saying, and he found that the statement was true. It had always been true.
"I love you too, James." Her voice was strong and sure, and he laughed with the sheer bliss of the feeling the words gave him. She kissed him again, and he drew her into his lap, his hands finding the shirt she still held in one hand. With a mischievous look, Lily put the article of clothing over her head, and pulled it down to cover the thin chemise she had been wearing. James looked down at her, in his tee shirt. It was too large for her by several sizes, and the maroon color clashed badly with her hair, but he had never seen anything so fitting in his entire life.
James gave her his lopsided grin she loved so much, leaning down to kiss her temple, her cheek, her eyelids, and finally her lips. They lingered there, breath intermingling and dancing between them as neither pulled away, wanting to extend the moment as long as possible. She absentmindedly tugged at the tee shirt, and he smiled.
"I'm never giving this back now," she joked, her emerald eyes dancing as she teased him.
His eyes twinkled. He kissed her once again.
"Good."
Please Review! Thanks for reading! xxxxxxxx