Disclaimer: J.K owns Harry Hoo-Hah, I don't. So yeah.
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"I love you."
Three words, simply stated out loud. So many meanings. But so easy for him to say. First, it's a look of confusion, shock, surprise. But then it changes. She smiles, squeals, shrieks in happiness. "I love you too," she says, the words reserved for him. Only him. She then leans forward, a lock of her beautiful, enticing, ginger hair that had swished around and mocked him so many times before falling over her eye. Their lips finally meet, and James knows that Lily's finally his and he's finally hers, and everything's alright with the world.
Bloody fucking perfect.
And all of a sudden, he remembers he's back in the real world, and he hasn't said the words yet, the ones that are so easy to use on other girls, every other girl but her.
Damn.
It was in fourth year he first thought of saying it to her. He was still young, though surprisingly experienced in matters of love. He had given their first meeting enough thought, when they were only just eleven year olds, but they had clashed like fire and ice. They were partners in Charms, and the ginger was too enchanted by her favorite subject to even get cross with him, and the fourteen year old had only just realized that he loved seeing her smile gleefully at him when she flourished her wand, producing sparks or flowers or levitating objects successfully. James had put a hand on her shoulder and she looked at him curiously, wondering what he was about to say. But he pushed the words down, brushed them off. They couldn't possibly be real, he had thought to himself.
The next time he thinks of confessing is in fifth year after Snivellus, the ungrateful little shit, he calls her a Mudblood and she's crushed, losing her first and foremost friend and heartbroken for days, weeks, months, years afterward. He finds himself full of rage and anger, furious that the greasy haired git could get to her in such a way, wanting to hex him until he's nothing more than a flobberworm, but he knows it would make Lily even more upset, so he holds back and yells a bit at him before chasing after her. She sniffling, crying, but so breathtakingly beautiful that James knows for certain that he's in love with this... this fire, but she looks up and demands of him, "What do you want, Potter?" and he's doubting himself all over again because she doesn't want him, so does he really fancy her at all? So he just tries to comfort her, make her feel better, and they end up being just friends and he's content. But not for long
The final time, he's Head Boy and she's Head Girl. He snap out of his daydream of confessions of love to see a dainty hand snapping in front of his face, and he glances down to see her: Lily Evans. He finds himself composing a mental checklist and checking it off as he scans each one of her features. Ginger hair? Check. Vibrant green eyes? Check. Defiant face? Check. Dainty fingers and the tiniest feet? Check. She's all there, standing before him in her ethereal beauty, and for a single moment James can't breathe. "Potter, snap out of it. Sirius is looking for you. He says you have some map or something and a cloak that he needs." she says to him, her voice as soft as silk, but sharp as a knife. She turns to walk away, but he grabs her petite wrist and she stops, staring curiously at him.
"I love you."
Three words, simply stated out loud. So many meanings. But so easy for him to say. Finally.