The Seventh Rule Of Living
A/N: Heyo. Just wanted to make a shout-out to awful_aus on Tumblr for supplying me with, like, a lifetime supply of wicked prompts (including this one). They deserve more love. Any who, enjoy the story, folks xx
There have always been seven rules to living, as far as James Potter is concerned. So, rightfully, he dubbed them 'the seven rules of life'. Sirius praised the name, mockingly so, but still, a praise all the same. Remus merely looked at him and sighed. Peter told him that it was a damn right stupid and un-creative title and that he should be ashamed of himself (James may or may not have locked him out of the flat for the night after that... he was being a prat, OK!? Peter, not him). And, as one should, James saw to it that every flat member abided by the 'rules'. And then they moved into an actual house (James and Sirius, that is, because he could only really have the heart to let Sirius pour over 'wanted roommate' posters and rental websites for so long before giving him the spare room) and the rules had just kind of embedded themselves into the backs of their minds. They never thought to question them and it gave them the cool air of knowing what the other was thinking when a neighbour was being bitchy and they looked at each other. But James hadn't really accounted for ever wanting to break the rules. Until Lily Evans showed up on his doorstep; red-haired, green-eyed and looking like a fucking angel.
~o~
Rule #1: If the neighbour is being nosy or bitchy or down-right telling you about all their life problems, escort them to the door and promptly shut it in their face. (OK, so he wasn't really proud of this one, but, in his defence, it was a lot easier to do in an apartment building entirely full of douchey college drop-outs)
The first and only victim of rule number one (to count) broke their delicate little rule system five minutes after they had moved in.
James moved the last box inside from where it had been sitting on the deck and wiped the back of his hand across his brow. Where was Sirius when you needed him? He'd spent the last forty-five minutes moving in boxes and unpacking necessities, while all the time Sirius had been mysteriously absent. 'I've got a job interview' he'd said. Yes, sure. Unless that job offer was at McDonalds, the bag Sirius clutched as he strolled through the door made James furrow his brow.
"I hate you," he murmured as Sirius chucked the bag at him and he moved quickly to catch it.
"Hush, darling, I bring you an apology lunch. You'll get over it." He surveyed the boxes. "That all of them?"
"Oh, of course, I wouldn't dare leave any for you to bring in." James rolled his eyes and scavenged through the brown paper bag. He pulled out a handful of chips and munched on them, popping his back in as he did so.
"God, it's like you expect me to actually do things. Don't kid yourself, mate." Sirius patted his shoulder as he went by to rummage through the drink cooler. "Want a beer?"
"Nah." A knock sounded at the open door.
"Hello?" A sickeningly sweet voice sounded. James moved into the entryway, still holding the McDonalds bag as he stared at the woman standing in the doorway. She had to be at least forty. "My name's Felicity, I live across the street. Welcome to the neighbourhood." She stuck out her hand, smiling sweetly, and James re-arranged the paper bag to hesitantly return the gesture and shake her hand.
"James." He informed her as he pulled his hand away. She smelled awfully of too much perfume.
"Do you live alone, James?" James opened his mouth to answer but it seemed his answer wasn't really wanted. "I live alone." Felicity sighed. "My first husband cheated on me with three different women, the bastard! And my second husband, well, he really did no wrong, he just died a little too early for my liking. Gosh, that means I'm a widow at forty-two- I mean, twenty-eight...," she trailed off and took a breath. "I'm not an old woman, I swear. I don't even have any children-!" James promptly nodded and closed the door.
"Who was that?" Sirius asked, coming back after having trouble locating a bottle opener.
"Rule one." Was all James muttered before he scoffed back another handful of luke-warm chips.
Rule #4: If one flat mate is in trouble, you're all responsible for him. (OK, so now it was just the two of them, but it still stood without question)
This rule was 'broken' (is that even the right term if you're following through with it? Maybe it should be 'the seven promises of life'... but 'rules' sounds more sophisticated) many a times and ninety percent of the time, not surprisingly, it was James driving around to locate Sirius at three in the morning (he was usually laughing and crying, at the same time, about being thrown out of a bar while he sat on the sidewalk). But the most recent 'accident' (shall we say?) was actually James.
Sirius heaved a sigh as he kicked the front door shut behind him and shrugged out of his coat. His eyebrows raised when James didn't come howling at him about how 'when you break the fucking door, I'm not paying for it' or 'we were meant to watch the Friends marathon tonight, where were you?' or 'unless you've found me a girlfriend, don't wake me up at two in the morning. I will kill you' but the house remained unusually quiet.
"Jamesy-boy~" Sirius kicked off his shoes, leaving them lying in the hallway, a few feet apart from each other as he struggled to dig his toes into the right one to get it off his foot, as he made his way into the kitchen. "Nope." He stumbled, half-drunk, into James's room and frowned at the darkness for a full minute before flicking on the light. "Jaaaaames?" Frustrated with the empty room, Sirius dug around for his cellphone and pressed speed-dial (so what if James is his emergency contact? The armed forces could fuck it if James could be there for him). James picked up on the fourth ring.
"Sir'us?"
"You sound awful, where are you?"
"G'ave'ard." James hiccuped, sounding an awful lot like he was on the verge of tears.
"What the fuck is a gaveard?"
"G'ave'ard!" James shouted. Sirius thought on it for a moment. Gaveard... gaveard... Graveyard!
"Mate, why are you at a-? Oh... I'll be right there. Sit still, bud." He was glad that he didn't have to drive anywhere, the nearest cemetery was about a five minute walk from here. When he passed the calendar on the kitchen wall he stopped to scan it. As he had figured, today was the anniversary of James's parents' death. He ran out the door, not bothering to shut it, let alone lock it, and sprinted down the street, taking a left at the intersection. When he got to the graveyard he searched around, trying desperately to remember where in the hell their lot was from memories of past visits, but the alcohol blurred it a tad and he ended up just yelling around for James. "James?" He called for the umpteenth time since arriving. He heard a small sniffle from behind him and turned to find James slumped against the headstone of his parents' joint grave. He looked up, his eyelashes heavy and stained with tears, a bottle of some alcoholic beverage empty beside him, and Sirius's breath caught in his throat. It sucked to see his best mate- hell, his brother- like this. He knelt down beside James and wished that he'd brought his coat with him- he was freezing.
"What are you doing here?" James murmured under his breath.
"Rule number 4, mate." Sirius patted his back soothingly.
Rule #7: Assess your situation and if you really can't be fucked following the rules, no one's going to kill you. (Sirius thinks it's the best rule of the lot. It gives him room to negate rule #6 'tell me when you're bringing a girl home' and just wiggle his eyebrows when James complains).
James sighs. He's just sat down to watch the Disney movie marathon on TV- a man can like Disney, no one asked for your opinion- and as soon as the title card for Aladdin comes shimmering onto the screen, the doorbell rings and every bone in his body is telling him that it's that stupid salesman that won't leave him alone. He decides to ignore it- until the doorbell rings again. James heaves himself out of his armchair and pops his back in- he's only twenty-three, for god's sake, can the back pains please wait a few decades?- heading to the front door as the knocking starts again.
"OK, calm down you prat, I'm coming!" James hisses. He swings open the door. "What the fuck do you want now- oh." He's staring at a very bemused looking red-headed girl. And she is gorgeous. Her long red curls are swept back into a loose bun- a few tresses slipping out to frame her face and tickle her neck- and her eyes are the most stunning green he's ever seen. Her eyelashes are naturally heavy and flutter every few seconds and James finds himself attracted to the freckles that burst over the bridge of her nose. His eyes drop for a split second to her lips- perfect and slightly pouty pink lips (and, gods, he bets those are soft)- before he notices what she's wearing: a deep-maroon coloured knit-sweater, whose collar curves just below her collar bone, and a pair of black skinny jeans- dusted with specks of white paint- that are paired with black and white converses. "you are not the salesman." James points out dumbly, leaning up against the doorframe.
"You have keen observation skills." She smiles and holds out her hand. "I'm Lily Evans- I just moved in next door." He takes her hand, perhaps too willingly, and shakes it.
"James Potter."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, James...," she trails off.
"Did you need something?" Lily bites her lip.
"Actually.. sort of. Yeah." James gives a bow.
"I'm at your service." Lily snorts.
"I was just wondering, if you don't mind, if I could borrow your shower? I know it's awfully rude of me, but my hot water isn't on yet and I kind of need to stop throwing my hair in a bun and forgetting about it." James smiles.
"Of course," he sweeps a hand down the hallway behind him. "straight down the hall." Lily beams.
"Thank you so much, James." And she hurries down the hallway, not before catching sight of Aladdin playing on the TV. She muffles a giggle and turns to James, raising her eyebrows. "Disney fan?" James rolls his eyes.
"You're here to use my shower, not to patronize my love for something deemed 'un-manly'." Lily shrugs.
"I was only going to say that's it's kinda cute." She winks and disappears into the bathroom as James stands gaping in the middle of the hallway. He hears Sirius stumble into the house behind him and frown at the shower sounds coming from the bathroom.
"Who's in the shower?"
"A fucking angel."
"Rule number six, mate."
"Rule number seven."
~o~
Even though she has had her own house for a year, Lily Evans really very truly lives at the next-door neighbour's house. She's in the shower when Sirius wants and he's always banging on the door yelling 'I know you're a woman but must you take so long!?' to which Lily says she must, she's got her head on James's shoulder every Friday night to watch a Disney movie, half her clothes are stuffed into James's drawers, she teaches Sirius how to do his laundry when he comes complaining to her, she teaches James how to cook and one way or another they're always making out in the kitchen by the end of it, she steals pop-tarts from the cupboards when her own supply is running low, she ninety-nine percent sleep in James's bed as opposed to one percent in her own, she really counts herself not responsible for the stray cat she fed that now lives with them, she's in on all the 'rules of life', knows what numbers to call and what places to check whenver one of the boys is missing, knows their pizza orders off by heart, knows the lot number for James's parents graves and goes with him to bring them flowers every so often, knows where the spare key is (it took James half a year to find a good hiding spot- under the bottom stair board that comes off with a little bit of force), knows the dates of every important event both Sirius and James have during the year and it's very fair to say that she's part of the family now.
~o~
It's a Friday night again and James kisses her forehead.
"What do you want to watch tonight?" He asks and Lily smiles, threading her fingers through his, her wedding band cool against his hand.
"Aladdin." She says.
