WILD EYES

Author: Queen Nightingale

Rating: M (Swearing)

Pairing: JPLE

"You don't love a woman because she is beautiful.
She is beautiful because you love her."
- Anonymous

"the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes"
- Wordsworth

She's the good, quiet girl. You're the outgoing, reckless boy. You can't figure out how to connect the dots.

You first met her way back in third year. She was sitting quietly at the front of the room, red hair frizzed out around her head, eyes buried in a textbook. You were swaggering to the back of the room with Sirius, who was telling you some dirty joke, both of you cackling at the insinuations, and you accidentally swirled - and on a whim, met her eyes.

They were green, and your heart started stuttering, and then she looked down and you found you could move again.

You ruffled your hair in shock, your hand automatically going up to your unruly curls, and Sirius was looking at you strangely.

"Mate?"

You shrugged it off, turning back to Sirius with one hand pulling up your saggy-ass private school pants, other hand heaving up your low backpack.

"Sorry Padfoot, what were you saying about the blonde?"

He guffawed, slapping you hard on the back, then continued to spew out expletives at the rate of a high-speed lunar vehicle.

You felt her gaze on the back of your head, but she was a nerd, so you didn't turn around.

You didn't like the fact that her eyes captivated you, so you automatically try to not like her, over the years.

You sneer with the other boys at the way that her hand is always raised during class, at her large hips and bone structure. You snort unattractively when she's presenting in Transfiguration, and when she looks over to you, you quickly drop your eyes. In Herbology you laugh cruelly with Peter at the way that she can't manage to extract the Bubotuber pus, and when her face is covered with yellow mucus you don't even try to stifle your smirks.

You're a nasty, reckless, popular boy, and you've trained yourself well to not give a shit.

When you're paired up with her in Charms for a random project in fourth year, you roll your eyes dramatically, Padfoot laughing at your escapades and prodding you with his wand to go up and meet her. When her eyes flash to yours you flinch, pulling out your wand and pretending to focus on the grooves in the wood rather than show her that you care.

"When should we meet for this, then?" she asks you quietly, trying to meet your eyes.

"I dunno," you yawn, overexaggeratedly, your gaze searching around the classroom for some form of salvation, "I've got loads of Quidditch practice and other stuff to do."

"Other stuff?" You don't look down at her, but you can hear the ridicule dripping off her tone.

"Yeh, other stuff, Evans," you retort, rolling your eyes again and grabbing the sheet of paper that she was holding in her hand, shoving it into your bookbag, "Thanks for the assignment, see you around."

You saunter off back towards Sirius, who is scrawling "Gryffindor King!" on the side of Remus' face with his quill, meeting up with them and high-fiving Peter, who is dramatically talking away about some Hufflepuff he wants to fuck.

You can feel her glare on your back, but you don't look back, because she's a nerd.

The girls you hang out with are the typical ones.

You've only hooked up with a couple, in all honesty, despite the reputations that you four have swirling around the castle. There was Rebecca from Hufflepuff, Sadie from Ravenclaw and Stella from Slytherin. Not that you would ever tell anybody about the last one.

They were beautiful, there was no doubting that. Rebecca's skin was flawless, Sadie's D-cups were off-the-wall fantastic, and Stella's unearthly beauty made you want to bury your face in her ribcage. But the girls were attracted to you because you had one-night-stand stamped on your head, because you were as broken and diseased as they were, and they knew that for one night, the sex and the lust and the stench could make the pain go away.

You used them for the sex, and they used you as a blanket.

You told yourself you liked it better that way, and the adoration of your peers gave you that reason.

You don't like her because she's not beautiful – she's plain, really, bordering on ugly, with acne up and down her cheeks – and she's not popular – she has one or two friends, but nobody in your crowd – and her hips are too wide for your taste, and she's friends with that Slytherin asshole who Sirius hates (and by relation, you do too).

So you treat her like shit.

"How's Snivellus doing, Lilyflower?" Sirius barks out from across the room when she enters the Gryffindor Commons, his shaggy black hair framing his sharp cheekbones and ice-blue eyes, "Come back from fucking him?"

Even your jaw drops a little bit at his vulgarity, but you close it quickly and lean back into the couch where you're sitting, watching as a hot-red blush trails up her face.

"You're an asshole, Black," you hear her hiss back, and she stumbles a bit as she starts walking away from your group.

"Want to say that to his face, dear?" you shout suddenly, condescendingly, you and your boys sitting around watching her frightened posture.

"Shut the bloody fuck up, Potter," she suddenly yells at you, the Gryffindor Commons room going silent, "You're nothing but a spoiled brat."

Your eyes finally meet her green, wild ones, and you suddenly can't breathe again, but then you rip your gaze away from hers and stand up, hand pulling up your pants which are lower than your boxers, striding over to where she's standing, looking almost shocked at what she said.

"Want to say that to me again?" you say slowly, dangerously, smiling a little bit out of the corner of your mouth. You can feel everyone watching you, even the younger grades, and you can't believe she's starting shit up when you're both in fifth year.

"You're a spoiled brat," she spits out at you, glaring at your shoulders, "You're nothing but a hyped-up school bully. You're pathetic."

"And what are you?" you roar back, Lily stumbling back a little from your rage, "Who the fuck are you, you ugly little girl?"

"At least I don't have an ugly mind."

"At least I'm not as ugly as you are, you bitch. Hanging out with the Slytherins, that creep kissing up to you, you're a fucking disgrace to Gryffindor."

"I didn't know that you cared so much, Potter," she replies, and then she's walking away from you up the Girl's Staircase.

You stand there and gape, because she's a nerd, but she won.

You ignore her for the next month or so, essentially rendering her a social outcast by your and Sirius' disdain. Even at the Gryffindor Quidditch parties, you drunkenly notice that she never comes down from her room, so you lead the crowds in chants of "Fuck Slytherin Fuck Slytherin Fuck Snivellus!" and imagine tears running down her face.

She humiliated you, and you've never been disciplined before, and you don't like it.

You never forget.

And then she was striding up to you in front of the Slytherins and the Gryffindors, and you mock her by asking her out, and finally you've got your revenge on Severus and her both, because he calls her what you pushed him to.

And then it's your last year, and for some goddamn reason you're both Heads, and you have to communicate with her, but you still childishly ignore her as much as possible and mock her whenever you can.

But then alcohol comes in to play, like it always does.

It's after the massive Gryffindor-Ravenclaw victory in October, and there was a huge party, and you swear that even the first years got inebriated.

And you're drunk, and it's two-in-the-morning, and Sirius has just deposited you back to the Head dorm, and you stumble over to the fireplace, where she's also drunkenly sitting, staring into the flames.

"Hi Lily," you say sloppily, nearly falling down but catching yourself on the mantle.

She drunkenly meets your gaze, and you realize that you weren't supposed to call her by her name.

"Evans," you continue, trying to regain your dignity, "I meant Evans."

"Why are you such a prick to me, Potter?" she asks, her body splayed out on the couch, "I've fucking never done anything to you."

"You hung out with Snivellus. Who was an asshole to Sirius. And you're a geek."

She doesn't reply, and you try and stop yourself from staring at her, but you can't help but trace your gaze over her face, with her broad features, the slight acne on her cheeks, her hair tied up in an unflattering bun, her curvaceous body, her green green green eyes oh fuck her eyes that means she's looking at you fuck

"Am I really ugly?" she asks, drunkenly, sitting a bit straighter up and glaring at you.

You re-assess her, moving your gaze over her whole body.

"No," you say, pressing one of your long fingers to your lips as you talk, making a shushing motion, "You're decent looking. You're not ugly. You're not particularly pretty, though. But it's a secret."

"You're a twat."

You nod in agreement, leaning your whole body against the mantle.

"Why do you always pretend to be busy?"

"Because I'm always busy."

"Bullshit. You always act so cool, like everyone else is below you, even when you were younger."

"Everyone is below me."

She rolls her eyes, and flops back into a sloppy position on the couch, her legs splayed out, her head tilted back. You laugh from your position on the mantle.

"Perfect Lily Evans, look at you now. If you could only see yourself," you comment, your eyes drinking her in.

"Shut up, arsehole," she replies, muffled by the pillow her head is in.

You're still standing by the mantle, your body weight leaning against it, and the two of you are silent, you staring at her, she's staring at a pillow, and you can feel the weight of something heavy leaning on your shoulders. And you know that if it was any other girl you'd be on her right now, you'd be making out fervently with her, and the tension is killing you, and you lift your face off the side of the mantle and start stumbling away.

"Bye, Evans," you say loudly, trying to walk straight as you move towards your room, "See you in the morning."

You hear a grunt from her face in the pillow, and you smile, and it's the first time you've grinned because of her.

And you keep stumbling up to your room, but you don't look back, because she's a nerd.

Something between the two of you changes after that.

Instead of ignoring her when you see her in the halls, you grin and say "What's up, Evans?", and she smiles back at you and asks you the same question, but with your last name. In class, with you in your typical back seat with Sirius, her at the front with some friends, you don't throw paper airplanes at her head or aim crumpled quills and parchment at her red hair. You just sit back, and act like you were never a jerk.

It's easy to fall into being her friend. You never apologize for your actions towards her: like the one time Sirius convinced you to ask her out jokingly in front of the whole school, and she said sure, and you started laughing; or the one time you aimed a spitball at her face; or the one time you insulted her in front of a crowd of your friends at a Gryffindor party. But then again, she never apologizes for pranking your hair bright green right before a Slytherin match (not that she would ever admit to doing it, but Remus saw her looking over spells the night before); the time she called you an idiot and a dumbass in front of McGonagall and you saw McGonagall give her a sympathetic look; the time that she slapped you across the face when you weren't paying attention to her during an argument; or the time that she tripped you, in front of everyone, outside of Flourish & Blotts during a Hogsmeade trip.

You easily forget how hard it was to ignore her, how much effort you put into degrading one another, just because you feared her eyes.

You start to actually like her, and you can see in her eyes that she knows. It makes you feel vulnerable, and you don't do vulnerable, and you think you're going psychotic because you're not sexually attracted to her but mentally. Not that you admit it to yourself, obviously.

"Evansssss," you moan loadly, sitting on the shared main table of your dorm with your head on your arm, "Sweet Evansssssss ..."

"What, James?" Her voice rings out loud from the door across from you, and you eye it up lethargically in front of your schoolwork.

"I need your help on Charms."

"I can't doofus, I'm going on a date!"

You freeze, then lift your head and stare at the closed door in front of you, shocked. You think you've misheard her.

"What?"

"I'm going on a date!"

You continue staring at the door, your mouth slightly open, offended.

"With who?"

"Vince, from Ravenclaw. We're going to go to the Three Broomsticks."

"The Three Broomsticks?" you scoff, glaring at the door, "Classy."

"Oh come off it, just because I can't help you right now doesn't mean you can turn back into your regular asshole routine."

You steam, and watch as her door opens and a blushing Lily steps out of her room, wearing a dark green Muggle sweater and tight blue jeans.

"Those are Muggle clothes." Tight, Muggle clothes, you think in your head.

"No shit, Sherlock," she replies, and you scowl a bit, recognizing the Muggle reference, "I am a Muggle at heart, after all."

"So what do you know about this Vince character?"

"This Vince character?" You realize she's looking at you a bit strangely, so you clear your throat and focus on your quill.

"I just meant if you actually know anything about him."

"He's a Beater for Ravenclaw's Quidditch Team," she says offhandedly, and you cough a bit, a flash of a dark-haired boy swatting Bludgers at you resurfacing in your head.

"He's dangerous!" you say suddenly, almost raising your finger in the air before putting it down. Lily is looking at you with a strange, almost constipated look on her face.

"Okay, whatever Potter," she says, looking at you with a bit of disdain, "Whatever you say."

You bite your lip and sit there, glaring at her as she twirls around suddenly, literally skipping back into her room to grab what you would assume is a bag filled with condoms for the sexual encounters that her and this Vince character are going to have and your ears are steaming up a bit and

"Potter?"

Your eyes flash back up to Lily, who is looking at you in that same strange way, and you look down at your hand and you've apparently broken your quill.

Suddenly, you screech back on your chair and stand up, striding swiftly to the door of the Heads' Dorm, motioning her to follow after her. She doesn't budge, just stares at you with an open mouth.

"I'm going to walk you over to him," you say slowly, as if speaking to a child, motioning with your hands for her to walk first through the portrait.

"Um ..." Lily looks flabbergasted, "No you're not."

"Yes, I am. You don't know who this Vince character really is, you'd probably not like him so much if you saw him playing out on the Quidditch field."

"You want to walk me all the way to the Three Broomsticks?"

You look around at the room, and then realize that your hand is covered in ink, and wave it at her.

"Just broke my quill. Need a new one. I'm not escorting you on your date Lily, for pete's sake," you scoff, and you see a light in Lily's eyes diminish a bit as she walks forwards towards you.

"Well, alright ... I guess that makes sense," she mumbles, clumsily stepping out of the portrait, you closing it behind both of you, "You don't have any other quills? At all?"

You think to the pile of parchment and quills that is lying in your room.

"Lily," you sigh, "If I had quills, I wouldn't be coming now then, would I?"

You saunter out of the room, Lily following behind you, but you don't look back because she's a nerd.

You're standing outside of Flourish and Blotts, holding a dumbass white bag with a stupid purple quill in it that you had to pay your own money for, and you feel like the most idiotic individual in the world.

You look stupid. Even you know that. You're standing there, with your tall athletic frame, Gryffindor scarf, stereotypical glasses – but you're clutching onto a white plastic bag (and it looks like it's your purse), your left hand is covered in ink, and you look a bit like a constipated blowfish.

From your spot on the cobblestone street, you can clearly see the Three Broomsticks on the corner of the block, and if you squint enough, you might even be able to see Lily and ... Vince, so you try to surreptiously peer in that direction.

A blonde Hufflepuff gives you a strange look as she walks past you, so you swear under your breath and turn in a circle, scuffing your shoes against the ground.

Well you're thirsty too, you reckon in your head, standing on the corner of the street like a certified twat. And the Three Broomsticks is a public place, and technically you didn't really hear her say that they were going to be in the Three Broomsticks, so there's no reason why you can't go and just get yourself a little butterbeer to warm yourself up.

You ignore the fact that the sun is out and everyone seems to be wearing t-shirts.

And you say to yourself in your head that you don't give a fuck about anything, so it's not possible to be embarrassed, and before you know it you're inside the Three Broomsticks, marching up to the corner table where Lily and Vince seem to be casually chatting over some scones, and plop yourself down next to Vince, spreading yourself out in the most aggressive masculine way that you've ever done before.

"Hello, friends!" you say dramatically, motioning at the waitress for a butterbeer, then swivelling back towards the pair of them. Vince, a thinner boy with dark-hair (albeit attractive, you note in your head), looks somewhat frightened by your alpha-male tone, and Lily is sitting in the corner, red as a tomato and glaring at you.

"What are you doing, James?" she hisses at you, glancing nervously at her date, so you grin widely at Vince, slapping him on the shoulder, the thinner boy wincing slightly.

"Just having a butterbeer," you say innocently, not meeting her eyes as a busty brunette brings over your drink, sipping almost delicately on it as soon as she places it on the table, "Heard the Three Broomsticks is a lovely place to have a butterbeer."

"It's the only place," Vince comments, smiling weakly, trying to lighten the mood. Neither you nor Lily laugh, and he sinks a bit closer to the side of his booth, you taking up the majority of the space.

You slurp down your drink noisily, and you can see Lily's gritted teeth from her spot across from you.

"So how're y'all doing, then?" you ask loudly, when you're done, slamming your drink down on the table with emphasis, Vince watching you with wide eyes, Lily steaming more and more at you.

"We're on a date, Potter," Lily says fiercely but quietly, her eyes darting at you, "You're interrupting us."

"Actually," Vince says gulping, looking at the glare that you're giving her back in return, "I was just about to leave. Thanks so much for that good time, Lily, we'll have to ahh - " You meet eyes with him, and the boy jumps back a little bit, startled by your rage "- well, never mind then."

You don't move, and Vince is forced to quite literally jump over you in your stony position across from Lily.

"I, am going, to kill you," Lily hisses from across the table at you, but you just look stonily back at her.

"He seemed like a bit of a flop," you comment rudely, pretending to pick a piece of grass off your sweater, "I can't imagine that the conversation was even going well."

"It was, until you showed up," Lily retorts, groaning exasperatedly and putting her arm over her face, "Why the fuck did you have to do that, you bloody dimwit?"

You keep leaning back, ignoring her, eying up the students in the rest of the Three Broomsticks.

"I could kill you, honestly."

You motion towards the empty glass of butterbeer on the table in front of you.

"Honestly, I was just bored and wanted a butterbeer."

"You couldn't have found me after the date? You just ruined that date!"

You roll your eyes and stand up, dragging your saggy pants back up as you do so.

"Stop being a drama queen, I just wanted a drink. Are you heading back, now?"

Lily remains sitting, glaring at you, clearly seething through her eyes.

"Alright," you reply, rolling your eyes again and motioning for her to stand up, "Maybe I shouldn't have done that. I was just bored. Can we go now, please?"

"Ugh!" she retorts, throwing her hands up in exasperation and standing up with gusto, starting for the door with you following behind her, almost like a bodyguard, "Sometimes you really get on my last nerves, James."

You smirk at her back, and hold the door open for her to leave the Three Broomsticks, watching the way that her hips move as she saunters out in front of you.

You watch her leave, and then follow her, because she's a nerd.

You don't realize that you left your new quill on the seat of the booth until you're lying on your bed at night.

You don't see her the next day until at night, when you're sprawled out on the couch in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames, and she comes waltzing in through the Heads' door, clutching books in her arms.

"Hello, Jamesiepoo," she coos at you from across the room, and you smirk without looking at her, but continue to sulk, staring at the flames in front of you, "How was your day?"

"Fine."

You keep glaring into the flames, and you hear her put her books down on the table that you both share in the middle of the room, and you can imagine her, standing there and staring at the back of your head with those wild eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you reply, shifting a little bit in your seat, still sprawled out, "Just thinking."

You hear her approach you, and out of the corner of your eye you see her leaning against the mantle. You're suddenly reminded of the party at the beginning of the year, and how your positions have completely changed.

"About what?" she prods you, and you start to seethe a bit, because you just want to be alone.

You don't reply, and the two of you stay there, frozen for a couple seconds, before Lily rolls her eyes and starts talking again.

"What's got on your nerves now, Mr. Popular?"

"Nothing!" you reply back, irritated, still glaring at the flames.

"You know," she says slyly, smirking a little bit as she watches you, "Out of the two of us, I should be the one who's miserable."

"Why?"

"You ruined my date yesterday."

You clench your jaw and don't reply, and you can feel Lily's gaze burning into your face.

"I'm kind of busy, right now, actually," you say, motioning at the fire, and you hear her laugh loudly from her spot watching you.

"Oh, okay," she says sarcastically, not budging, "Sorry for disturbing your 'thinking time'. Guess you need a lot of that to operate like a normal human being."

You scowl at her, and look over and meet her eyes. The green flashes at you, so you dart your own back to the fire, where you two both seem to be in some sort of unspoken stalemate.

"You're so fucked, Potter," she says loudly, and you imagine her rolling her eyes, and then you hear her start to move away, and you start to get angry.

"I'm fucked? I'm fucked?" you say in response, turning around and watching her retreating back.

"Yes, you're fucked," she says, not even bothering to turn around from where she's organizing her books, bending at her large hips to file away the papers.

You stand up and stride over to her. Now she's the one ignoring you, and you don't like that at all.

"How am I fucked, Lily?"

"Do you really want me to go over everything that you've done to be a horrendous human being to me?"

You freeze for a second when her eyes meet yours, but then you're back and rage is filling up your pores.

"To you? I only did that because you betrayed our house, hanging out with a Slytherin."

"It's still fucking bullying, James."

"It was not bullying," you say loudly, not meeting her eyes, "It was the proper action to do-"

"Proper action to do?" she screeches, and suddenly you realize that this is the first fight you've had since becoming good friends.

"Yes! You were hanging out with that dickhead Snivellus who treated you like shit-"

"Do not fucking judge me! The Severus that I knew was a good man!"

"Well I was never acquainted with him, Lily!"

"Fuck off, Potter!"

"Oh, so we're back to last names now, Evans?" you roar, and you're both across from each other screaming over the table, and it feels like fourth year again.

"You continue to bully me, you idiot!" she yells back, and you watch as her red hair starts falling out of her tight bun, "You never fucking stop!"

"How in hell have I bullied you recently, Lily?"

"You ruined my date! You scared off Vince!"

"If he cared for you then he wouldn't give a fuck about me having a butterbeer! And I didn't scare him off!"

"Yes you did, you bloody prick."

"I just had a drink!"

"You interrupted my date!"

You seethe, not able to come up with a proper response, and you tousle your hair in anger and glare at her, Lily's chest heaving up and down with rage as she scowls at you.

"I did not interrupt your date," you say, quieter but angrily, glaring at her burning eyes, "I was just coming over to have a butterbeer."

"Why don't you fucking admit it, you idiot?" she screams at you, and you're taken aback by her anger for a second, but quickly regain your standing, "Just admit that you fucking ruined it for me!"

"I didn't ruin it, Lily!"

"James, yes you did! You and I both know that you did!"

"Prove it!" you yell dramatically, almost stomping your foot down in anger, "Fucking prove it, then!"

And a look gets into her eyes, and you don't like it, and she's sprinting up the steps towards your room, and you're yelling "No, Lily, that's my fucking room, you have no right to go in my fucking room", and she's swinging the door open and you're tackling her waist and the two of you are on the ground but not before you see her eyes latch on the pile of quills on the corner of your bed.

The two of you are silent, your large arms still wrapped around her waist, both of you lying on the ground.

"If you needed to get a quill," Lily starts to say mockingly, but you glare at her and don't move.

"'Shut up."

You hear her start to chuckle, and you're astonished to watch her start laughing gleefully in your arms, both of you on the carpeted floor in your room.

"What's so fucking funny?" you ask, angrily from your embarrassment, glowering at the girl cackling in your embrace.

"James Potter was just caught being uncool," she replies, dramatically emphasizing the word uncool with her lips, you watching her with disdain, then she bursts into more laughter.

"I'm not uncool," you retort, letting her body go, the girl still laughing hysterically beside you, you sitting up trying to regain your dignity.

"What a - " Laughter "nerd."

You scowl at her, and then stand up, stalking out of the room, Lily still collapsed on the floor laughing. You sit down on the couch where you were before and close your eyes, Lily's laughter still coming to your ears.

Eventually you hear her get up, and amble over to where you're sitting, moodily pretending to nap after your humiliation.

"Just ask me out, then, won't you."

Your eyes pop open, and your jaw drops a bit, and you turn your head to stare right into her bright green eyes, those eyes that you really are attracted to.

"Me?" you point to yourself, stumbling over your words, "You want me to?"

"No, not particularly," she replies, flippantly blowing it off, "But I think you want to ask me out, but don't have the ballsack to."

"I have balls, thank you very much, Lily."

"Not right now you don't."

You watch as she grabs her books, still chuckling a bit to herself, and right before she enters her room you hear yourself shakily speak.

"Okay, okay, fine. Want to grab a bite to eat tonight?"

You think that she might have not heard your half-hearted date offer, and you're almost relieved at the way her back doesn't turn, but then you catch a glimpse of her face and she's smirking like a Slytherin.

"Sure, James," you hear her reply from where she's placing her books assumedly on her bed, "Let's grab a bite to eat."

You roll your eyes and sink further into the couch, glaring at the flames in front of you.

You see her peek her head out of her room out of the corner of your eye, and you turn, and you see that she's beaming, and you try to control the smirk that's threatening to erupt on your face.

"What," you ask, somewhat rudely, and Lily snorts loudly, starting to giggle again.

"Thanks for asking me out, Jamesiepoo," she coos at you, and you laugh at her, then turn back to the flames.

You don't watch her enter her room and close her door, not because she's a nerd, but because she's something else, and you're scared shitless.

Not that you'd admit it, of course.