Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not JK Rowling.
Love Me Slowly
She isn't certain when it happened. That change from despising him and cursing him and doing everything in her power to ignore him—granted that last part never happened; his arrogance and insipid means of dragging a response from her succeeded over eighty percent of the time—had turned into nothing less than infatuation. And she hates it. She is Lily Bleeding Evans for Merlin's sake. She does not obsess over boys like this—t-this continuous thought process of him. Of the little habits of his she'd come to notice. The habits that were endearing and genuine. That made her stop and ponder where it had come from. Then the way he would smile. Lazily. In such a way that diffused her tension. But then, that was his way. His charismatic, charming way of being James Potter.
He is seated by himself in the Library. Not that that his solitude is terribly surprising to Lily, the likelihood of Sirius Black (or any other one of his cohorts) to willingly enter the Library on a Saturday is fair to none. With his disheveled hair and lopsided glasses, he pours over a textbook in a way that Lily recognizes as frustrated. He sighs with an agonized force, pushing the text away and leans back in his chair. That lazy smile breaks across his face at the sight of her.
Her heart decides to stop functioning right then and a blush creeps over her cheeks. Curse him.
"Hello," she says lightly as she drops into the seat across from him. Unable to bring herself to meet his gaze she focuses instead on pulling her Head notes from her bag.
"Finally managed to drag yourself out of bed?" he teases. Running a hand through his hair he closes the textbook with a flourish.
"I knew I would regret telling you my love of sleeping in," she scowls. Finally looking up she finds that he's smirking now, his eyes dancing gleefully. "It's not even that late! Eight o'clock hardly qualifies as a decent hour to get up. And just because I am late to our meeting doesn't give you the right to make that comment."
He laughs loudly at her. "Quite finished?"
Her blush deepens at her petty rant. Tucking her hair over one shoulder Lily changed the subject. "Did you finish making up to new rounds schedule?"
James didn't answer immediately. Clearing his throat he shut his book, an obscure title about charms, and gave her a pleading look. "Do you love me?"
Yes. "Potter!"
"I'm sorry Lily! I'm guilty of procrastination, I admit it. But just so you know I had planned on finishing it last night, but I had to go stop Peter and Sirius from nicking a set of bludgers from the Quidditch pitch. Remus was bloody useless." Looking offended James runs a hand through his hair. "He just sat back and kept charming them out of my reach. Speaking of which have you seen any of them? I have a need to express my appreciation, or lack thereof."
It takes all her control not to crack a smile. "Quite finished?"
He gives her an exasperated look that turns into a deep scowl when she bursts out laughing. "Stop laughing! I didn't get back to the Dorm until two in the morning."
"Yes of course," Lily says clearing her throat. "We should mourn the loss of your beauty sleep."
"Do you think I'm beautiful Evans?"
Yes. "Potter." Now she's blushing and there is nothing to do about it but ignore his intense gaze and fumble uselessly with her quill. She can feel his eyes upon her, precise and careful they never seem to miss anything. But, he says nothing else and pulls out a clean sheet of parchment.
"It's actually Sirius who gets offended when he doesn't get his allotted seven and a half hours." He says it too late. Lily has the dreadful feeling that he knows. Oh Merlin he knows. But he says nothing about that and does his best to rectify the attention he put on her.
"Ah, that explains so much," she is quick to respond with a laugh and roll of her eyes. Lily watches as he starts making out a chart of a new rounds schedule. Why isn't he teasing her? He usually never misses a chance to bring a blush to her cheeks or a curse from her wand.
"Yes, I would avoid him as best you can," James chuckles as he continues to hash out an idea for the rounds. While he's occupied Lily is free to watch him. It was interesting to try and pin point what had changed. Thankfully the hair hasn't been affected. It was not until the end of sixth year that she's admitted to herself that yes, his hair was actually fabulous. He is talented, but that hasn't changed either. He'd always been talented, the Transfiguration prodigy that makes McGonagall only a touch more lenient with him. That and he's brilliant at Quidditch. What was it?
The question makes her unable to focus throughout their meeting. Which is rather embarrassing because he catches her staring at him twice more before they finish everything they need to discuss.
"I suppose you're going to head to Hogsmead with your remaining freedom?" She asks when they finish and are putting their things away.
"Someone's got to stop Sirius from spiking third years' drinks with firewhiskey," James says mournfully. "Peter keeps Remus distracted so he never actually see's it happening."
"James Potter, not shirking in his Head Boy duties," she says dryly as she stands, "I'm impressed."
She meant it. She really did. But in the way she said it he knew her heart wasn't in it. He didn't see past the sarcasm. It was later that she realized that.
"I am a good person Lily," he tells her. When he rises, it is with ease and grace. She remembers hearing Marlene and Alice go on about their pureblood families and "trainings" on etiquette they had to go through. "It's the pureblood heritage," the would mimic together.
She doesn't respond. She can't respond as he turns quickly and leaves the Library.
.*.*.*
She is in an empty classroom slumped in the first seat she had found upon entering. Shaking with sobs she leans over the desk holding her head in her hands. Her red hair is a mess; tangled and wet with her own tears, she hasn't had a chance to wash it in three days. Which normally wouldn't be the first things on her list of worries, but after everything else has decided to go to Slytherins chamber pot, why not this? Just another thing to the list of things wrong with her.
She finds it rather ironic that this was what finally got her to snap. It wasn't Severus. It wasn't Dad. It wasn't even Dorcas' snub. No. Of course it had to be Petunia. The invitation had been addressed by her mother. A little note was attached begging Lily to find a way to come back home, if only for the day. Again, from her mother. Did her mother know that another letter arrived that same day? That same moment in fact? It was from Petunia. Calling it a note puts it lightly. It is much more a threat. Don't you dare come back FREAK.
Thinking about it rolls her body in another sob. Don't you dare. Don't you dare.
Freak.
Freak.
That's always what she has been and always will be it seems.
She doesn't realize someone has entered the room until there's a hesitant hand on her shoulder. That only makes her cry harder because she knows who it is. He says nothing as he stands beside her. Nothing as she cries clutching her head in her hands. As he slips into the seat beside her, his hand works in slow circles across her back. He says nothing and merely waits.
It takes sometime before she can calm down enough to stop making little gasps at each breath. It's pathetic. Freak. She straightens slowly and brushes her hair from her face, but she cannot look at him. She can only imagine what he's thinking.
There you are Potter. The girl your so "madly in love with" is having an emotional breakdown. How attractive is this?
He says nothing about her state, but simply mutters a spell and conjures a handkerchief to hand to her. Silently she takes it and a fresh wave of tears begins to roll down her cheeks. When did he go and grow a bleeding conscience? Lily snubs this round of tears as quick as she can. She's made a fool of herself around him enough as it is. Quietly she wipes her face and blows her nose, delicacies forgotten.
It is a moment before he makes a noise like he wants to say something. He tries again, but stops. Again, but can't seem to form the words.
"James?" She finally comes out and speaks first. He makes no response. It has been a while since she's actually used his first name, he's probably shocked. "Thank-you."
"What else are friends for?" he asks softly, one hand is still on her back working in soothing circles.
Lily turns a little to face him. Friends. Yes. They are friends, aren't they? She likes that. That's the best thing she's heard all day. While the classroom is dim and she can't see very well with her stupid tearful eyes, there is a glimmer in his own. He cares. Before she can think about it she leans over and pulls him into a hug. Well, it's probably more like a strangling the way her arms wrap around his neck and she holds on like she'll never let go. Hesitantly he returns the hug, his hands kindly resting on her back.
James presses his nose against her temple and as he feels the drop of tears on his collarbone he pulls her closer.
.*.*.*
Furious. That's the only way to describe her. And even though that anger is directed purely at him, James cannot help but grin. Her red hair is flying about her in the wind mingling with the falling snow, the hat she's wearing seems useless to its purpose. There's a scowl etched on her face. It's nearly a permanent characteristic. Even at this distance he can the gently curved shape of her eyes as they flash like a venomous snake. She was furious, and he loved it.
"James Potter." He's surprised he can actually understand her. Although anything with that tone of maliciousness and it's probably his name or "Bloody Marauders." She's snarling angrily with a hand itching towards her cloak pocket where he knows he wand is waiting.
"Lily Evans." James responds jovially out of habit. Honestly sometimes he prefers her in this vindictive mood. It certainly is an improvement from the state he'd last found her in. Had it really only been a month? Ever the object of his fascination, despite how he tried to subdue it, he couldn't help but notice the color drain from her face that day at breakfast. She was seated away from her friends (after an epic battle of insults that reverberated throughout Gryffindor Tower, Dorcas was ignoring Lily) and he couldn't help but watch her leave her breakfast untouched and run from the Great Hall. The last time she had done so was in second year after Sirius had sprayed pumpkin juice down her front after she'd made a comment about his hair.
Obviously, something had upset her.
Now, thankfully, she seems to be back to her usual self.
"Don't you dare," she grinds the words out as she comes to a stop in front of him. Her cheeks are stained pink from a mix of the cold and her anger. The scarf she wears is one he's never seen before, and he has taken great care to know the kinds of scarves she likes. Unlike her usual ones of wool and knitted patterns, this one is thin and lanky and appears to be doing an ineffective job at keeping her warm. The skin of her neck is red with chill and there's a small buildup of snow the rubs there atop the collar of her cloak.
"What have I done this time?" he drawls. He looks over his shoulder at the entrance to Hogsmead. Remus and Sirius are there waiting for him, Peter likely trying to figure out a way to sneak out of a detention without Filch noticing.
"You can't just," she begins, but she comes to a loss of words. "You never even," she tries again.
"Is this about changing the schedule?" He asks, his grin deepens at her flabbergasted struggles to speak. This topic she's trying to get at is one she's obviously passionate about and there's a feeling in his gut that tells him it's not the schedule. "Walsh said he'd mentioned it to you."
"No," she snaps.
He cuts her off before she can continue. "Moving the Prefect Meeting? I did run that by you, no? Slytherin's feeling entitled to have the pitch on Thursday's because of something to do with Astrology. Load of hogwash in my opinion."
"No," she says again, but he can see her angry resolve faltering. Her hands move up to her scarf and she tries to pull it tighter, warmer, against her skin.
"Hmm," he muses. "Than what is it?"
Lily opens and closes her mouth trying to form a response. Before she can do so she, yet again, is interrupted. A group of third years rush past them back up to the castle. Their feet squelching and splashing in slushy snow and mud.
"You lot ought to be careful and not track mud in the Castle," James warns them. "Filch'll have all your heads the rest of the year!"
"Thanks James!" come a reply and the students disappear around a bend in the path.
James returns his attention to Lily and finds she is no closer to giving him an answer. Taking advantage of the fact she has yet to draw her wand, James steps closer to her, their barely more than two feet apart. He pulls his own scarf off and wraps in around her. As he holds onto either end, he pulls them closer together. Close enough that he can feel her breath warm against his neck, and he can see the splash of freckles on her left temple.
She doesn't move like he expects her to. All she does is stare defiantly at him and he can see something in her eyes that he can't quite register, he's seen it once before; in the library. They stare at each other a moment more before he leans in and presses a quick kiss on her forehead. Her breath is quick on his neck and she inhales again sharply.
James pulls away and winks at her. "You seemed a bit cold love, that scarf of yours isn't nearly as warm as mine."
It is then that she pulls her wand out and is able to hit him with a tickling charm. When she lets out a string of profanities at him it is all he can do to remain standing as he laughs. But he doesn't mind as he stumbles off to the Three Broomsticks. She seems to be back to herself again. And he especially doesn't mind when he sees her the next day with his scarf firmly in place around her neck and he has a feeling he won't be getting it back.
.*.*.*
He ignores Severus.
He makes his friends ignore Severus.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to hex him. The hall was only full of little first years and Gryffindor's. No one would have stopped him. Perhaps not even her.
But he lets the Slytherin pass by unnoticed, grabbing Sirius' arm and shaking his head. Sighing vocally Sirius complains "dog-gone-it, that was a golden opportunity". James ignores him.
Lily feels a bit lightheaded at that. She tells herself that it's because she was up all night last night trying to talk through the disagreement with Dorcas. That had only ended in tears. She is tired of crying.
He glances over his shoulder and their eyes meet. He nods briefly before disappearing with his friends. And she realizes that is it.
They have rounds together that night. Lily realizes that it's been ages since they've had an opportunity like this to talk. To really talk. And yet, while they walk through the corridors they say nothing. James lazily waves his wand, sending bursts of bubbles this way and that.
"Alright Evans?" He asks finally.
She snaps to attention suddenly and self-consciously runs a hand through her hair. "Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine."
Lily doesn't look at him. For some reason, she just can't bring herself too. She can still feel his touch from when he embraced her in the empty classroom and her forehead still tingles from that silly little kiss. Curse him. Spending so much of her time obsessing over him was the last thing she wanted to do. Spending so much time wondering if he still felt the same about her drives her made.
Lily knows he had a thing for her in the past. He made no secret of it before. But all the times he'd asked her out seemed so halfhearted; having always been combined with a curse or a jinx to another student or some pigheaded comment about her legs or wand work. Believing he fancied her is just a joke she keeps amongst herself and Marlene. Though her friend insists that Lily should go out at least once with James before the end of their time at Hogwarts.
"You are a terrible liar Lily." James cuts into her train of thought without reserve. She notes that he's put his wand away and instead works on disheveling his hair. When his glasses slip down his nose he doesn't seem bothered, instead focusing his attention on her.
"Maybe I don't want to talk about it," she says, because how could she? Yes, James, let us talk about how my feelings for you have changed. How I've notice you've matured and changed into a more responsible caring person. She stops abruptly in the hall at how concise the thought had come to her. That is exactly what she has been searching for the last few months.
"Lily?" He's a few paces ahead and looks back at her expectantly.
A sour taste grows in her stomach. But he's still as annoying and prying as ever. "It's none of your business what's the matter with me."
"So you admit theirs is something bothering you," he said with a cheeky grin.
She scowls and hurries to walk pass him. There's two more hours left on their rounds. Merlin give her patience.
"C'mon, we're friends aren't we?" He catches up to her easily. "You kept my scarf and everything."
Blast it all. Lily knew she should have publicly burned that thing when she had the chance. At least she wasn't wearing it now, it was tucked beneath her pillow. A fact that she would not tell him.
"Why does it even matter to you James?" She finally asks tiredly. They come to a stop near the Astronomy Tower, surprisingly enough no one was there trying to sneak up for a snogging session.
"We're friends," he says again, a bit confusedly.
Looking up at him Lily sighs, but doesn't meet his eyes. Instead she focuses on the scar sitting on his jawline. She'd given that to him last year after an incident involving a pixie and fireworks. The Common Room still smells like smoke. "Even friends have secrets."
"Yes, but if it's bothering you so much talking about it will help relieve the stress," he says.
"I'm not stressed!"
"Your tone suggests otherwise."
"Bugger off," she snaps looking away. Neither of them move. Glancing back over her shoulder she watches the nearest torch. It flickers in the gentle draft of air that moves down from the dower. The flames dance and flow in the air flow. As she watches she finds herself grateful her hair is not orange like those flames. That's all she can focus on. If she tries to think of anything else she will realize how close she and James are. She'll realize the sporadic beat of her heart and the way her hands are sweating uncomfortably. She'll realize things that she's been suppressing for a long time now.
"Are you incapable of showing any other kind of emotion Evans?" He growls, if possible leaning even closer to her.
"Oh I'm sorry, would you rather I begin sobbing uncontrollably and fall into your arms again?" she replies just as rudely. "Shall I add a kiss and sweet whisperings of undying love for you?"
"Well actually,"
Smack
As soon as her hand collides with the side of his face she wishes she hadn't done it. When the term started, she had a goal not to lose her temper like this again. Bugger.
"I-I'm sorry, I d-didn't mean," she stutters jumping away from him. Slowly, he raises a hand to his cheek, it seems he too realizes how long it's been since she's slapped him.
"Or course you meant it," he says quietly. "You wouldn't have done it otherwise."
"If you weren't so infuriating," she begins and almost glares at him. But she can't finish her angry rant. No, he was right. There's that look in his eyes that tells her. It's the same look he had almost half of last year when he and Sirius weren't speaking to one another. It's a look of betrayal and hurt. That familiar gleam in his eyes deadens a little and his smirk has dropped away. Lily finds she doesn't like the effect that has on him. Instead of a charismatic and haughty young man he turns to be cold and distant. She recognizes that look. It's the same one she sees in the mirror every morning. Trying again, she begins slowly and carefully. "You're right. I am stressed. And annoyed. And angry."
They finally meet each other's gaze, but neither says anything. Typical of almost every night in the castle, there is not much commotion in the halls. Distantly she can hear a pair of ghosts talking and there's a painting just ahead, past the stairwell to the Astronomy tower that's having an argument with itself. So, in near silence they watch each other. It's strange, Lily thinks, she's not embarrassed or angry about this stare down. Normally she would lose, attributing her looking away to needing to go somewhere. But now, there is no excuse. No reason to look away.
"Anything else?" He finally asks. That gleam returns to his eyes, only just.
Scoffing Lily folds her arms over her chest. "I apologized, what more do you want?"
"Friends don't let friends keep their emotions bottled up like this Lily." His tone gives her a heart murmur. The only time she's ever heard him talk like that was when he called Sirius his brother or recalled a story about his family.
She can feel her muscles relax and a wave of relief washes over her. For a moment, there is a part of her protesting everything about this. You don't have to tell him! It's none of his business what you're going through. Completely rational and true. But then there's the voice that replies quietly, but I want to talk about it.
Slowly she rocks forward on the balls of her feet and gestures to the Astronomy stairwell. Settling on the same step their knees graze only slightly.
"If I have to talk, than you do too," she warns with a pointed stare. He smirks and she notices that there's a small dimple in his right cheek when he does so. How long has he had that?
"Only fair Miss Evans," he says. Those hazel eyes seem to bore into her, more than they've ever done before. A blush heats her cheeks and Lily snaps her attention ahead of them focusing on the dancing shadows emitted from a torch.
"I was about eight or nine when I learned about magic," she begins, unsure about what to say next. It's not like she hasn't talked about this before. Marlene has always been a good shoulder to lean on when she's needed it. But now, talking to James, she feels like an overflowing teacup balancing on a marble; if she doesn't talk now, she'll topple over and shatter to pieces. "For a muggle girl that's what we dream of you know? Being magical, like a princess in a story book. It means we're special. Only when I actually left for Hogwarts and Petunia wasn't going to come—it didn't feel so magical. S-she didn't understand I guess. Didn't want to."
Taking a breath, Lily realizes she's shaking, it's not just from the cold. Gripping her knees with her hands to try and keep them still, she continues. She doesn't even notice that curious look growing on James' face. If she did she would see that fascination and interest that he has always had about her.
"I don't know why it was so hard. I made new friends here, great friends. I wouldn't change it for the world, but Tuney, she was my first friend. My real friend." She pauses to watch a shadow twirl at an unexpected gust of air barreling down the hall. "You don't have siblings so I guess you would know, but it's like a betrayal of trust when it ends. We should still be friends. We should still be able to tell each other everything. But I'm just, just the fr—she's getting married. In the Spring. Mum had to send me the invitation. Petunia doesn't want me there. It was the first time she's written me since second year and she uses that opportunity to tell me not to come. Because I'm this."
She finishes with a hiss of disgust and she realizes that she's crying. Thankfully it's only silent tears, but this has to be one of the most embarrassing things she's had to endure. The two times someone has to see her cry and it's always been with him. And now she's told him some of the deepest thoughts she's had. Unable to bring herself to look at him, Lily drops her gaze to her hands, balled up atop her knees.
James shifts beside her and she knows he's ruffling his hair. When he speaks it's in a simple way. There is no trace of mockery or demeaning to it. "Sirius was an idiot once—oh all right even more so than usual. He betrayed not only Remus' trust, but mine and Peter's as well. I could have killed him, Remus nearly did. You know what I said to him? He's the closest thing I've had to a brother and I told him I wish he would go back to his parent's house. 'You're no better than the lot of them,' I said. Lily, if you only knew what they're like. I may as well have told him to go slit his wrists or get locked up in Azkaban."
When he pauses, Lily looks up at him. Pure anguish is etched in his face. His brow furrows deeply as he searches for an answer to an impossible question.
"You ask about that feeling of betrayal from someone," he says softly, a humorless laugh follows. "Yeah, I felt betrayed by him. But my betrayal, that thing that I said. That haunts me. It'll always haunt me."
Silence.
His fingers tap tunelessly on his legs; she can feel his anxiety seeping off of him. Deliberately she reaches over and takes one of his hands in hers. She can't tell who clings on the hardest.
.*.*.*
They are in the Library again. He's cursing his Charm's textbook vigorously as he flips through the pages trying to locate a passage. Watching bemused, Lily leans back in her chair and absently rolls a bit of her hair around a finger. Over the past few months she's gotten more used to the idea of thinking James was attractive. Because really, Marlene was right, he would be in Witch Weekly every darn edition if those journalists laid their eyes on him. She's never admitted it out loud though. Merciful Merlin, she could just imagine what Marlene would say, or what Mary'd do. And now that she and Dorcas have made up, there would be fireworks and alcohol involved. No. It is better just to admit it to her diary.
The Potion essay sitting in front of her gives her a migraine. Usually Potions comes fairly easily. Not as easy as Charms, but easy enough. But now writing about bezoars and how they relate to the function of dragon's blood makes her want to rip her hair out. Taking up her quill she tries to think of something to say.
"It all sounds the same," James mumbles dropping his head into his hands. His forehead collides soundly with a stack of books about Charms, and patronus' before him. Groaning audibly he runs his hands roughly though his hair.
"Just summarize it all," Lily tells him finishing a poorly worded sentence in her essay. Maybe Slughorn wouldn't notice.
"How?" Looking up over the rim of his glasses at her, Lily feels her heart develop a murmur again. Drat.
Rolling her eyes Lily tucks her hair over one shoulder. "James. You are a seventh year; I know that you know how to write an essay."
"You are a terrible study partner," he grips. Slowly sitting up he drums his fingers on the table.
"So Remus does your all your work for you?" She asks amused. As kind as Remus is, he is still a Marauder and therefor a giant prat at least eighty percent of the time.
"He at least point's me in the right direction," James says.
"Start by writing all that you know about the patronus charm and go from there," Lily replies. Not getting anywhere on her potions work she shuts the book she was using. "You can produce a protronus right? So just talk about that process and the memories you use to make one, why those ones work and why others don't."
"If only it were so easy," he says sourly.
Smirking Lily collects the books she won't need and goes off to put them away. When they first started studying together, it was more of a collaboration of heads work. Her excuse was that if they started working on the next schedule for rounds and it casually turned into him helping her figure out how to get that darned tortoise pattern off of her teapot for transfiguration, it was a win-win situation. And then it turned into the outright admittance that she needed help. And he still can't get the wand work down for disillusionment charm. It was a mutual need. Nothing more, nothing less. Even if they meet four times a week now for two to three hours. There was nothing else to it.
Yet, Lily can't help but feel a little disappointed. Having come to realize that she liked James, he fact that he hadn't asked her out once and it was almost Christmas makes her feel strange. It was nice to have that idea in the back of her mind that someone was fascinated with her. Even if James could be a creep at the same time. She realizes that James has changed just as she asked him to. It just pushed him farther from her.
He practically materializes next to her and takes a few of the books to put away. Shoving them in random places he hums softly.
"James, you aren't even trying to put those away properly," she chides with a laugh.
"Oh c'mon, we bother know Madam Pince loves being able to come back and spend some personal time with all her books," he replies and stuffs a charms book atop the books on pepper up potions.
They laugh together, at the truthfulness of the statement. He catches her eye and they share a look. For some reason, she cannot identify, she focuses on his lips. The thought crosses her mind of what it would be like to kiss him. Sweet Agrippa, does he notice? She hopes not that would be mortifying. They are friends. Friends don't mentally kiss each other without consent.
It's in that moment he reaches a hand out, realizing what he's doing, James looks away, quickly dropping his hand. Before she realizes what she's doing, she grabs his hand in one of hers and places it gently on her cheek before lifting up on her toes to kiss him. She'll blame it on that stereotypical impulsive redhead gene. But right now, even though he's confused as a hippogriff at a tea party, that kiss is fantastic. It is quick, warm, sweet. Not at all what she was expecting, but it was mostly her going into it. If he was the one to instigate it, she's sure there would be much more involved. But she doesn't mind. For her this kiss concisely defines her feelings and change of heart.
When her senses return to her she pulls away dropping his hand. His eyes bulge behind his glasses, mouth slightly agape. Patting his cheek, she can feel the stubble of a day's worth of grown and the warm glow of a blush. "You might want to blink; I hear your eyes can fall out without enough moisture."
She goes to turn away but he grabs her hand and suddenly she's facing him again. Closer than before, their foreheads touch and breath mingles. Meeting his gaze with as much confidence that she can muster she waits. His eyes flicker behind his glasses searching for something.
"Lily?" he's uncertain, slow and cautious. Her heart is hammering in her chest as she realizes that in all the ways he's changed it has never taken him from her.
She smiles coyly and hopes that gleam of mischief she's seen in his eyes so much is captured within her own. "If you don't I will."
That's all the answer he needs.
.*.*.*
a/n So this is the first fanfiction I have written in YEARS. Seriously, like 4 years. It's my first time doing 3rd person while in present tense, usually I am really hesitant with a narration like that so I hope it works. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! I would love your feedback and know how I can improve!
Also, I would recommend looking up the song, Besame Mucho, somewhat of an inspiration for this fic. Yes, it is in Spanish, there are English lyrics out there. It is a beautiful song.