A/N: Fluffier than a Pigmy Puff. Purely some drabbly stuff from Lily's POV that is meant to be read as a train of thought, and also Lily questioning you, the dear reader, in the hope that she is not the only one experiencing this insanity at the hands of the charming James Potter. I was intending to get across that feeling where you know you shouldn't like someone but you sort of do, and thought it applied to Lily. So here we are.
You know when you meet someone for that first time, and your first impressions of them are that they are kindly and funny and possibly worthy of friendship but then they ruin things completely by opening their mouth and you come to realise what an insolent, arrogant prick they actually are and so you feel your hopes drop slightly because they are clearly not what you expected, but then after a few years something strange happens and though you know they are annoying, too popular for their own good and infuriatingly good-looking, you can't let that wistful first impression fade away and so it remains with you so that by the time you are both, say, seventeen, you catch yourself staring at them for that fraction of a second too long whenever they grin stupidly in Transfiguration, or when they make some witty, boisterous remark that sends the whole class into a fit of laughter no matter how old we all are, and pretty soon, sooner than you'd oh-so-desperately hoped, you're falling for them faster than the Chudley Cannons are falling down the league tables, and you're angry with yourself for feeling it but you just can't deny that the snide haughty insults you fire at them contain less and less truth by the day, you're lying to them, lying to yourself, and when they wink at you as they run a hand through their already messy hair or ask you to go out with them in that painfully jokey tone which clearly expresses that they would not like to go out with you any more than they would the Giant Squid, you feel a thrill of affection for them in spite of yourself, and you wonder, sickened with yourself, how they can make you feel happy and angry and hopeful and desperate all in one day, yes I would like to go out with you, more than anything, James Potter, despite your overly cocky personality and your own little personal fan club I think I could just about cope with you for maybe one day, a few weeks, I don't know, we could just see how things turn out... So after this happens every single thing about them becomes a million times more attractive to you, and never before had you appreciated just how charming their face looks with their black hair mussed-up like that, or how their arms look just nicely broad and muscular, but not too muscular, no doubt from endless training and matches on the Quidditch pitch, or how their laugh sounds just as charming and perfect as their own light, humourous voice...
You know the kind of thing I'm talking about, don't you?
Yes, well, that has quite clearly happened to me, Lily Evans, in love with James Potter, and I don't know what the hell to do about it.