The Best Things
She looked everywhere, everywhere in her damn room, and everywhere in her common room. She couldn't find it. She swore heavily, which was uncommon for her to do so, and she slumped on the floor, leaning against her four- poster. She'd torn up her room: looked in every crack, behind every frame, and in every drawer. But she couldn't find it. She broke down, hot tears cascading down her cheeks, and sobs shaking her shoulders.
He was going to be here any moment, and she didn't have it. She hoped he wouldn't notice, though she knew he would. Where, where had she lost it?
~*~*~*~
It was a Tuesday afternoon after classes had ended for the both of them. They had gone up to their room, and spent the rest of the afternoon talking and cuddling, just enjoying each other's presence. Over the two weeks that she'd been seeing him, she'd grown to read him well; she knew he was nervous about something. From the tense jaw muscle that she longed to stroke, to his more-than-usual messing of hair, she knew he was just itching to tell her something.
And then he did. In a lapse of comfortable silence, he shifted so he could face her more clearly, and looked at her seriously, and at the same time, nervous. He took from his pocket a small pouch no larger than an inkpot, circular in shape. It was intricately woven, with red ribbon crossing over black threads. He took her hands, and placed it within, and watched as she fumbled to open the drawstring. When she tipped the contents into her palm, he heard her let out a soft gasp. Molten silver had been drawn out, and shaped to a miniature clock, which was set on a delicately curved ring. She looked closer, and saw the silver clock read 3:24. Though she instantly knew what it meant, he told her it was because it was the first time they met. He proudly told her that he transfigured it himself, and she laughed at his ego. She was amazed with his gesture, with the intense feeling of being wanted and being cared for. Then he had tilted her chin and leaned forward, with his lips brushing against hers. He asked her if he could call her his own. She warmed at the thought. He always said the best things. She smiled, and told him that she already was.
~*~*~*~
She sniffled and made one last attempt to find her ring. When shaking the sheets, she didn't hear him come in. But then he asked her what had happened to her room, and she'd turned around to face him. He took in her teary face, and she flung herself in his arms, apologizing profusely, and almost beginning to cry again. He could feel the heat of her cheeks pressed against his neck, and simply held her, knowing that was what she wanted; that was what she needed. When she told him what happened, he gave a short, curiously bitter laugh, and released her from his arms. Her heart was breaking, but then he pulled something out of his robe pocket. Smiling at her, he told her that she'd left it in his room the night before, and that it wasn't lost after all. He told her that even if she had lost it – although it had its sentimental value – that she shouldn't be worried, since she still had him. She smiled. He always said the best things.
A/N: Absolute fluff. I was reading a romance novel where the main character's job was making jewellery, hence the idea of the ring. The time idea was original, since my friends and I have a special number between us, but I later realized that the idea was already used in Sabrina the Teenage Witch, with Sabrina and Harvey. I decided to keep it anyhow, since it was already written. [This was original fiction converted to Lily/James... it just seemed right.]
It was short, I know, but please review anyhow. Thanks! ~iriscristata
She looked everywhere, everywhere in her damn room, and everywhere in her common room. She couldn't find it. She swore heavily, which was uncommon for her to do so, and she slumped on the floor, leaning against her four- poster. She'd torn up her room: looked in every crack, behind every frame, and in every drawer. But she couldn't find it. She broke down, hot tears cascading down her cheeks, and sobs shaking her shoulders.
He was going to be here any moment, and she didn't have it. She hoped he wouldn't notice, though she knew he would. Where, where had she lost it?
~*~*~*~
It was a Tuesday afternoon after classes had ended for the both of them. They had gone up to their room, and spent the rest of the afternoon talking and cuddling, just enjoying each other's presence. Over the two weeks that she'd been seeing him, she'd grown to read him well; she knew he was nervous about something. From the tense jaw muscle that she longed to stroke, to his more-than-usual messing of hair, she knew he was just itching to tell her something.
And then he did. In a lapse of comfortable silence, he shifted so he could face her more clearly, and looked at her seriously, and at the same time, nervous. He took from his pocket a small pouch no larger than an inkpot, circular in shape. It was intricately woven, with red ribbon crossing over black threads. He took her hands, and placed it within, and watched as she fumbled to open the drawstring. When she tipped the contents into her palm, he heard her let out a soft gasp. Molten silver had been drawn out, and shaped to a miniature clock, which was set on a delicately curved ring. She looked closer, and saw the silver clock read 3:24. Though she instantly knew what it meant, he told her it was because it was the first time they met. He proudly told her that he transfigured it himself, and she laughed at his ego. She was amazed with his gesture, with the intense feeling of being wanted and being cared for. Then he had tilted her chin and leaned forward, with his lips brushing against hers. He asked her if he could call her his own. She warmed at the thought. He always said the best things. She smiled, and told him that she already was.
~*~*~*~
She sniffled and made one last attempt to find her ring. When shaking the sheets, she didn't hear him come in. But then he asked her what had happened to her room, and she'd turned around to face him. He took in her teary face, and she flung herself in his arms, apologizing profusely, and almost beginning to cry again. He could feel the heat of her cheeks pressed against his neck, and simply held her, knowing that was what she wanted; that was what she needed. When she told him what happened, he gave a short, curiously bitter laugh, and released her from his arms. Her heart was breaking, but then he pulled something out of his robe pocket. Smiling at her, he told her that she'd left it in his room the night before, and that it wasn't lost after all. He told her that even if she had lost it – although it had its sentimental value – that she shouldn't be worried, since she still had him. She smiled. He always said the best things.
A/N: Absolute fluff. I was reading a romance novel where the main character's job was making jewellery, hence the idea of the ring. The time idea was original, since my friends and I have a special number between us, but I later realized that the idea was already used in Sabrina the Teenage Witch, with Sabrina and Harvey. I decided to keep it anyhow, since it was already written. [This was original fiction converted to Lily/James... it just seemed right.]
It was short, I know, but please review anyhow. Thanks! ~iriscristata
