Hey guys it's me again! This is a really short drabble that I felt in the mood for... Hope you enjoy! Please R&R!
The Final Choice
That morning they had made love, she remembered as she closed her eyes to the horror around her. It wasn't like their first time, with a shy yet eager nervousness, nor was it like when the times after that as teenagers with fumbling need. Lily found that she quite liked this new phase of their sex life. It was sweet and lingering, they took their time memorizing each other, how they moved, the way their skin brushed together and when the pleasure took them over, they were left sated and full with love.
Granted, they didn't always have that sort of leisurely sex. There was a war going on after all and sometimes the frustration would escalate until it exploded in ripped clothes and panting and it was over all too soon, with chuckles from them both before they went to bed exhausted from their adrenaline. This usually happened after a raid or bad news, a way to show each other that they cared too much to lose each other, that they were terrified of what could happen to their love, a love that ran too deep and was too young to be lost.
Lily knew James. He wasn't good with words or feelings. In fact, his heart was too big, despite her beliefs when they were younger. James often couldn't express the depth of his feelings in words; he chose to show them in his actions. So when he got that heavy look in his eyes Lily would hold him and for a while, they could forget about the war and impending disaster, they could be each others rock and comfort each other in the most basic way, physical contact. They would look into each others eyes and whisper endearments to each other and their hearts would overflow with love as they tried desperately to hold onto the moment, trying desperately to escape the reality of war for just a few more moments.
She saw that heavy look in his eye again, one of the last things she remembered of him. Not the moments of happiness of the moments before, or the panic, fear, and despair, but that look of heavy sadness that always accompanied their furious lovemaking. And it made her think of that morning, when they were oblivious and happy and together in every way. Because James, James was dead. He wasn't coming back and she knew that Harry was going to die too. Harry and James, the two rocks in her life. Gone. She knew that without them she wouldn't be able to go on. She knew what she had to do.
As the green light came racing toward her, she thought of Harry, his bright green eyes and his thick black hair, James' hair. His first tooth, his first smile, his first birthday, his first steps. His gurgling laugh, his hiccups and how he was beginning to talk. He had learned mamma a few weeks ago but had never arrived at papa. James had never heard his son call him papa. James. She thought of their enmity, their eventual friendship, and first attempts at love. She remembered late nights by the Lake, snogging in broom closets, sneaking into Hogsmeade, holding hands, their first kiss (which had actually been an accident. Lily didn't talk to James for weeks after that). But most of all, she remembered that peaceful morning a lifetime away, where they had memorized each other, and loved. Because now they were about to be forgotten.
There you go. I hope you all are crippled by feels now. Thanks for reading!
Lots of love,
snapsandprongsforever