Lily Evans, Captured

By headupintheclouds

…And then it Fell Apart

"Eighty-three days," Lily muttered to herself, drawing back the sheets. It was her customary awakening, to count down the days to graduation. Unfortunately, this awakening was much, much too early.

The seasons were lurking between a lingering winter and spring, and the cold night air made her bristle. It filled her lungs and made her wish she could crawl back into bed. Trying to shake the sleep out of her system, she slowly opened the door to her room. The old wood groaned and creaked, but she did her best to keep it quiet. It was, after all, three in the morning.

As sleep wore off, it was replaced by a sort of cloudy feeling throughout her. Her head felt foggy and a little disoriented. As she stubbed her toe on the threshold to the Head bathroom, the pain was dulled and far-off. The feeling wasn't new; Lily had had boughts of insomnia when she was younger. They'd been cured once she'd entered Hogwarts, and she'd never looked back.

Tonight, however, there was too much to think about. And one very irritable James Potter down the hall.

---Flashback---

"Eighty-four more days," James whispered in her ear.

Confused, she looked up at him.

"Until we're done with Hogwarts," he clarified.

She grinned, but then her face fell. "What about after that?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"I mean us. What's going to happen after graduation?" Lily asked, avoiding James' gaze.

"We'll stay together, of course," James said. He sounded a little surprised she'd even ask.

"What if I don't want to?" she retorted playfully.

"Then I guess I'll have to make you," he responded.

Lily just grinned up at him, comfortable to lock eyes again.

"Forever?" she asked softly, her words almost lost on the soft breeze of the night.

"Forever," he replied just as softly.

---End of Flashback---

It was the sort of mushy couple exchange that had sickened her until she experienced it with James. It was the sort of folly banter couples exchanged in. It was naïve, but charming as a participant. In the long run, teenagers preferred to think of themselves as riding off into the sunset, still married 40-some years later. And, of course, having miraculously escaped aging. The optimism sickened her at times.

However, there was much more beyond that exchange that had messed her up; a certain brunette (possibly) sleeping mere feet away had made a confession. Three accursed words, strung together, had sent Lily staggering back to her insomniac past.

The revelation had been made at the most inconvenient time; after dinner. Everyone was running around, navigating routes to dorm rooms, and few students hurrying to make it to the library before it shut its' doors for the night. She actually had yet to think of a more appropriate time; all she knew was that the nausea and anxiety had almost overcome her, with everyone to see.

Staring wide-eyed into James' nervous hazel ones, she'd taken flight. She just ran. Ran down the hall, up the staircase, and had gotten herself lost in the school. She watched the sun set from a window she'd never seen before, and waited a good few hours after. To be sure she wouldn't see him.

Sneaking back into her own Head Common Room, she found him on the other side of the door she worked so hard to keep from making a sound. His eyes were trained steadily on hers, though carefully void of emotion.

She paused for a moment, trying to gather the words in her head and gather them into something that would fix this. The look of hurt and misunderstanding was too much to comprehend; this was someone she cared about. All the words seemed to be present, but she just couldn't string them together right. She knew that all she had to do was say the right words and this could all be over, all fixed. They could forget about it, or laugh about it, or do anything else about it, for that matter. So long as it was okay, so long as the hurt was removed, erased from those eyes.

But she couldn't find them.

And James wasn't waiting.

After watching her toy with her vocabulary for a while, he simply rose up from the couch and slipped silently across the floor. After he broke eye contact with her, he didn't turn back. It was pointed, his avoiding her eyes. And it hurt. Lily heard the door to his room open, then firmly shut. It had a volume just below that of a slam, but she knew it wasn't to be argued with.

James did not want to talk. Not that Lily had figured out what to say.

So now, about four hours after that encounter, Lily was four hours more rested, but not any closer to a decision. She knew that the next move was hers, and that it was unchangeable.

She knew James was special to her; much more so than anyone else. He'd become an integral part of her life in the past few months. But Lily was also all-or-nothing. She would have none of the "I think I love you," crap she was always hearing about. Love was more limitless than that, surely. It was classical, and your first love only happens once. It can't be re-written, it can't be elaborated on. It lives on, through memory. Even if you get another boyfriend, fall in love with some else, and marry them, your first love is never replaced.

She was, at the moment, trying to decide the better alternative: break James' heart and say she didn't love him, or tell him she did and let him go through his whole life thinking his feelings were returned while Lily waited to develop them.

On the one hand, she'd get her ass dumped; WAY dumped. On the other, they'd both be living a lie at James' expense. If he ever found out, he would feel betrayed, entirely betrayed.

She was suddenly acutely aware of the tinny taste that was enveloping her taste buds: she'd bitten her lip too hard. She hadn't even realized she'd been chewing it. As the taste gradually faded, Lily wondered what she was so afraid of: James was SUPPOSED to be her boyfriend, and one of her closest friends. He'd understand, right?

If only she could convince the knot in her stomach of that.

Feeling a little heady, Lily stood up. She braced herself mentally before taking measured paces toward James' room. She still had no idea what to say, but if she didn't say it soon, she knew she never would.

A/N: "I'll write you just to let you know that I'm all right…" and the rest of that song doesn't apply tonight. Short, I know. But I've got a pounding head. Been sick all day. Plus you should be happy (or at least, some moderate, toned-down version of happy since James and Lily are screwed over) 'cuz this means (drumroll) SEQUEL! See you all soon. Quite soon. Sooner than you think –cue the eerie music-