A/N: I was bored in History so I came up with this little story. I hope you enjoy!


She stared at the broad expanse of Scottish countryside through a tear-stained window. The lush grass, a vibrant lime color against the stormy grey sky and pelting downpour. The rain made a pattering sound she likened to the sound of mice sprinting to sanctum. A boy was staring at her. She knew who it was without turning around. His eyes were constantly resting on her, giving her butterflies that weren't entirely unwelcome anymore. Contrary to the popular belief, Lily didn't enter a severe state of denial when she realized her feelings for James; she was brutally honest, especially with herself.

"James, if you want to talk to me you can. You don't have to stare."

Startled, James grinned sheepishly and loped over to her, in the way only very tall and clumsy boys can.

"You were thinking, and I didn't want face your wrath," he said as he flopped into a squishy, coffee-colored armchair.

Finally tearing her green gaze from the cold glass, Lily smiled warmly at him. "Haven't you been told my wrath is only directed towards ridiculously egotistical fifth years?"

James blushed, and Lily laughed softly. "I was an annoying little bugger wasn't I?"

"I would use words a bit stronger than annoying, James."

"A bit? You told me I was the most egotistical, infuriating animal to ever taint the earth."

"Did I really? And I was so sure I was an absolute angel back in the day. "

They spent a good deal of time recalling memories that had been tortuous, and howling with mirth at the seriousness which they had regarded arguments and challenges.

Lily sighed with content and snuggled deeper into her blanket. James watched her with an adoring eye and wondered if she might say yes this time. He looked at her porcelain features and knew he would feel the familiar jolt in his stomach when she opened her eyes. He had known her for seven years and still, her impossibly bright eyes sent electricity through his limbs. He felt a pang in his chest as he remembered they were solely friends. Not wanting to disturb her peace, but aching for something made of red and white and green, he slowly stood up and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. He made his way up to the dorms and smiled.

"James?"

He slowly pivoted, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yes?"

"Come here." Her voice wasn't deadly calm, but serene and possibly content, so he figured it was alright to approach her.

He cleared his throat. "Lily," he began nervously.

"James, come closer."

He complied. She beckoned him nearer, and nearer until they were squeezed together in her worn suede recliner. She had wrapped herself in a dark cobalt blanket, curled up like a kitten, and her knee was gently pressed against his lower thigh. He was on his side, propped up on his right arm, laying down on the reclined Lily-chair, as she liked to call it.

"I like you, James," she confessed softly, "I want your forehead kisses and your real kisses. I'm sarcastic and cynical and a hopeless romantic squeezed into a parcel. And guess what, James?"

"What?" He whispered, so soft it was if he spoke any louder the warmth of the fire, the warmth of Lily, the rain, and the clouds would shatter, and his reality would become a dream he had just woken from.

She smiled. "You get the whole package."

He managed a quiet, "Good," before he gathered her up in his arms and pressed his lips to hers in the way he had wanted to for so long. Their lips began to move in synchronization so smooth, it was a wonder this was their first kiss. The kiss became deeper, hungrier. Suddenly the warmth of James's lips was no longer on Lily's lips, but the delicate skin of her neck. She drew a sharp intake of breath, and managed to gasp out, "Go out with me, Potter?" He drew back from her pale skin and roguishly smirked. "Sure thing, Evans." He paused for a moment. "Are you only asking because of my fantastic snogging abilities?"

She gave him a light shove and said, "If I wanted someone with fantastic snogging abilities, I would have gone to Sirius. Now shut up and kiss me."

He snorted at the bluntness of his beautiful, fiery counterpart. "As you wish, my dear."

Outside the rain poured on dutifully, and the grass grew greener with every drop.


I love writing Jily. They're so fluffy (most of the time). If you liked it, tell me. If you hated it, tell me.

Night!

Soph