A/N: Pure indulgence, really. I apologize. Although I suppose that's the point of this. And besides, it was probably the chocolate's fault…So, you're forewarned. A bit…well, fluffy may not be the right word. Or it might. I'll have you decide :D And forgive me for the mistakes; I don't generally have people beta read, although I probably should. I'm not altogether satisfied with this, but I'm impatient and I'm not sure what to change yet.

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A Fever of Indecision

Something changed in the way James looked at her that year. Something in his eyes was different, and little actions Lily would have seen as arrogant a year ago had now become charming. She had become what she was most trying to avoid; a girl who was taken with James Potter, on whatever level, and a girl with a pile of mush for a brain because of it. Where have I gone wrong? She had a list, an explicit step-by-step program, drawn out for herself in order to avoid this happening. Number one, never think about his hair, except to criticize its messiness; Number two, for Merlin's sake, never look at his mouth... Sure, Potter was attractive. She'd known that for years. It was his personality that needed work…had needed work. Have you gone mad? She let out a breath and watched as the window next to her fogged slightly. She pressed two fingers to the glass, marveling at how cold it felt to her skin, when she was quite warm inside the common room.

Lily was glad for the fire burning behind her, causing shadows to stir across the room. It was the only thing to keep her company down there. She had run away from her human company a few hours past. No, I will not regret it. Only she did, and she couldn't stop her heart from feeling what her mind insisted it didn't. Some things were not as easy as she wished they would be. And here, she was back to wishing.

It wasn't that she was lonely, exactly. She had plenty of close friends, people she trusted, mentors in her professors, acquaintances who only thought the best of her. She was not lonely, not in the social sense. But despite herself, she had always been a romantic at heart. She needed to stop reading these idealistic books, needed to stop flipping straight through to the happy parts where people got together, where love was the common word of the page and of the lives of these characters she was beginning to wish she could become. She looked around her and saw happy couples walking together through the castle, leaning on each other underneath trees on the grounds, and kissing behind suits of armor, where they thought nobody could see.

Whatever the impetus,the fact remained that she wanted something. Being a brilliant student and an impeccable witch was only so occupying; she wanted to be more passionate in life. And damn her traitorous skin, but that word made her blush. Not so much because of its connotations or its lustrous past, but because of the images it brought to her mind. To be passionate…well, she would have to be more daring.

She was beginning to realize, or at least to admit, that all of those years that James followed her around, trying to gain her affections, she had been almost flattered in the middle of her infuriation. It was almost as if, on some level of her existence, she had enjoyed his attentions. No, not on some level. On every level. She understood now what she had always avoided understanding before. And she wasn't sure that she wanted to feel this way, not really.

I feel like loving someone…is that all this is? Here was the problem; this was why she was still awake, why she was here, and not still in the Heads common room with James. She hadn't run, not exactly, though she may have wanted to. She was overwhelmed with the desire to ask him…what, she wasn't sure. To ask him something. To do something. To stop wondering why he was looking at her differently now. She wanted…

She groaned in frustration. She wished that she knew how to finish that thought. It wasn't as simple as it used to be. Amidst all of her wanting in the Heads common room, she had decided it was time to leave. At least when he wasn't sitting near her she could think properly. She couldn't smell him, or sneak glances at the way his hair fell into his eyes, only to realize that they were staring at her. So here she was, peering at the dark window beside her. She wiped the fog from the glass and suddenly spotted a figure; a reflection in the window. It was becoming larger, and she gasped as she felt someone behind her, shadowing her from the firelight. Lily shifted, turning her head around.

James was looking at her that way again. She blinked, willing him to go away, to leave her to her strewn thoughts and her wishing. Of course, she didn't really want that, and, of course, he remained where he was.

"I thought you left to go to bed."

"I…couldn't sleep."

"No?" One corner of his lips lifted, and she cursed herself for breaking her second rule; was it so difficult to avoid looking at his mouth? "And why not?"

"I…don't know."

"Oh?" His lips curved more, bordering on a smile. Or a smirk. Perhaps he hadn't changed much after all. Perhaps it was her who had changed.

She frowned. "Not much of a conversationalist tonight, are you, James?"

He shrugged; his whole body shifting in that way it did sometimes. "I beg to differ. You are not giving me much to work with."

She smiled weakly. "Well, I apologize. In that case, perhaps I should just…" She slipped off the window seat, preparing to ascend the stairs to her dormitory and forget about his voice and his eyes.

He touched her arm, gently. "No - stay," he said it softly, and she met his eyes in her surprise. Instead of sitting back down, she stayed where she was, watching him.

"Why?" She asked, but didn't allow him the chance to answer. "You're lucky I'm even speaking to you this year. I swore I would never be civil to you, you know. I was going to hate you forever."

"Do you still?" His eyes never left hers, and his hand left her arm reluctantly.

"Still what?" She glanced at his mouth again, and she wondered if he had noticed.

"Hate me?" His voice was insistent and curious, and it seemed to touch every part of her.

"I…" She was licking her lips, and now she knew that he noticed, because he was looking right at them with his lips open as if he was going to say something else. He leaned in, and something in her snapped. She stepped backwards, her right heel hitting the back of the stair behind her. "I'm kind of tired now, actually. I think I'll…" She trailed off, wishing she knew why she was saying these things; why she was avoiding what she wanted. Somewhere in her mind, she knew. Is it fair to him? Do I want him, or just someone?

She smiled nervously and whipped around, climbing the stairs in restless fashion. She burst into her dormitory, realizing too late that all of her friends were probably asleep, and hoping that she hadn't woken them with her unsteady entrance. She held her breath, tip-toeing over to her bed. She pulled the curtains around her and whispered,

"Lumos," while slipping her hand underneath her pillow to retrieve her journal. She began to scribble, drops of ink from her quill falling onto the page haphazardly. She fell asleep with the parchment pressed to her cheek.

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Have you ever had the burning wish to love someone? Or to have someone love you like that? I have. I used to think that was all it was, and I used to think that it was wrong of me, to wrong him that way. I guess I was mistaken. She had woken up that morning with these words on her tongue and in her mind, and she reread where she had written them in her journal the night before. Her fingers skimmed the page, rough to the touch, and her other hand ran over her mouth, contemplative in its slight smile. Her mind wandered back to the night before, and she lay back on her bed, pulling the comforter up to her chin.

After several moments, she decided that she had to get out of bed eventually, and she pulled the curtains back to find that the other girls in her dorm were already awake and gone. It was the weekend; there were no classes to worry about today. Of course, Lily mused, she had plenty of other things to be worrying about. Yes, like your endless pile of essays to write. She frowned, realizing that she had planned on working in the Heads common room today, as the library had proven somewhat distracting the past few times she had tried to work there. But then, this was because James had been there, either wandering around or sitting at a table near her. Perhaps he would be there again today…And perhaps he'll be in the Heads common room. She wasn't sure which one she was hoping for, but she was wondering if things were going to be awkward today. For her probably, but would he be awkward too? Had she just imagined it all, or had they really come so close? She had been skirting around these emotions for months now, thinking that despite his past affections, it had all just been a silly crush, one that was now faded and gone. And then, she thought that she was just looking for something, and as she was with James so often these days because of their positions, she thought he was simply the easy option. That wasn't fair. Not to either of them, really.

She changed her mind the night before. His eyes said enough, and she answered, at least internally. It wasn't just someone she wanted. It was James. Now she was debating whether she should tell him. Tell him? She laughed. Oh, by the way, James – I want you. That didn't sound right. She couldn't say that. Or perhaps wouldn't was a better word. She was worried…that was what had snapped in her the night before, and that was why she had backed away. She wasn't sure that she was ready. No amount of wanting and wishing could convince her of that.

She gathered her things and made her way out of her dorm and out of Gryffindor tower. She became lost in the throng of students wandering about the corridors, and eventually she found herself stepping into the Heads common room. She breathed a sigh of relief; James Potter was nowhere inside.

Her sigh of relief ended quicker than it should have. He tumbled in behind her, just as she was setting her books down, and their eyes met abruptly.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I – er – saw you walking this way. I thought maybe – well…did you sleep well?" James rarely stumbled over his words. He was almost as adept at speaking as he was at quidditch.

"Yes, James. I slept quite well, actually. And you?" The steadiness of her voice surprised her.

"Actually, not that well."

"Oh, why?" She was sitting down now, pulling a book into her lap and grabbing a roll of parchment. She looked up at him when he failed to answer, and he simply shrugged, but something in his eyes seemed to say to her: you know why.

Her eyes slipped back down to her book, and she refused to look up as he sat on the couch behind her; she had taken the only desk in this room. She again refused to take notice as he rose from the couch several minutes later, suddenly restless again, walking quietly around the room, at times running his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes.

Lily groaned loudly. She couldn't concentrate when he did that. Why was he still here? Why had he come at all?

"What's wrong?" He asked, and she realized that she had made another noise of frustration against her will or knowledge.

"Er – oh….I just was having trouble understanding this spell, and…" Lily had never been terribly skilled at lying. But James seemed to believe her. He stepped closer, frowning.

"I could try to help…if you want?"

He was close enough that she could smell him again. She nodded carefully, not sure what she meant by it. She felt him stepping behind her and she quickly turned her face back to her book, her cheeks darkening. Her heart was beating against her ribcage. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Which part?"

Lily could feel the vibration of his voice against her body as she carefully pointed to a part of the directions which she had found confusing, but she was certain that she understood it now. Too late; she had already told him that she didn't. His hand reached around her, and she felt his arm leaning against her as he traced the words with his own fingers. She pulled her hand back as if it had been burned when their fingers touched gently. Her cheeks heated again, and she was suddenly glad that he couldn't see her face.

"Well, you move your wand a bit to the right side, in a circular motion and – well, it's a bit like the levitation spell, really. I can show you, if you'd like."

Lily turned her face to the side to thank him, but she found that his head was right there, his chin almost resting in the crook of her shoulder, and his lips next to hers. He was staring at them again. Her doubts raced back to her. Am I only infatuated because I want something, and James has been here for so long? He was still staring at her mouth, and all she could think about was how this was not just because, this was not just someone, but it was James, and all she really wanted to do was to run her own hands through his hair, and to stare at his eyes, and to snog him, but her mouth was already on his.

James reacted in surprise, melting into her quietly, his fingers brushing her shoulder, and Lily felt the sudden urge to shiver. His tongue ran over her bottom lip and she gasped at his intensity, wanting more and needing him to finish this burning he had started. His hands wandered, and she felt the side of the chair digging into her hip, but she couldn't stop to care, she was finally allowing herself to feel him, to stop wondering and to do. She was hesitant with her tongue, her fingers brushing against his ear and his digging into her hips. She broke away suddenly, breathing against his neck. She felt hot all over and her hands were frozen where they rested. She was left only with the ridiculous question: Can I burn and melt simultaneously?

She was sure now. No, I don't want to love someone. I want to love James. He pulled back slightly, and their eyes fixed on one another, waiting for something. Lily laughed quietly. For once, her mind was silent. This was better than all of the wondering and imagining and wishing she had gone through. She was finally able to move past all of that.

"Well, it wasn't the first time I've been wrong," She smiled at the confused expression on his face, and decided that the best way to explain it to him was to continue snogging him; surely he could feel what she meant.