Happy Valentine's Day! I don't give a flying fuck about this day, but I am going to use it as an excuse to write some Jily fluff.
Below, you'll find a Muggle AU with some of the usual fluffy trappings: coffee shops and tube stations. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I'm not currently in a fight with Piers Morgan on Twitter, so this isn't mine (though Piers is a prat, so go Jo, go!)
She first noticed him when she looked up from the paper as the tube pulled into St Paul's. She only had a few more stops to go, two to be exact, until she transferred, but she was still relatively new to London and still a bit antsy about missing her tube stop. She would look up every few stops, check the station, check it against the map on the ceiling overtop the seats across her, and count how many more stops she had to go.
It was slightly neurotic, but it worked for her. At least until she felt more comfortable using the Underground.
She was looking up to perform said ritual when her eyes found him - he was sitting squarely in his seat across her, looking as though he was trying to avoid taking up too much space, and his left leg was bouncing incessantly in front of him, a nervous habit that, despite not knowing him even a little bit, she found endearing. It helped, of course, that he was easily the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen.
His ebony hair was standing straight up on top of his head, his large, black and wire-rimmed glasses had slid halfway down his nose as he read the paper on his lap, and his tie was tied loosely around his neck, positioned just so so that he could easily tighten it when he walked through the door of wherever it was he worked. Judging by his look, she was actually surprised he hadn't gotten off at Bank. Though maybe he'll get off at Chancery or something.
He stayed on, though, until the train pulled into Holborn. He stood at the same time she did as the train pulled into the station, and Lily flushed when his eyes flickered over to her and he gestured in front of him to signal that she should go first to exit the train. She grinned back in response, hitched her bag higher onto her shoulder, and walked swiftly out of the train before she did anything stupid. Like talk to him. He was gorgeous, beyond gorgeous, and she didn't need to go off into some word vomiting tangent about just how handsome he was in the middle of a crowded tube station.
She saw him again, though, on the platform for the Piccadilly line headed towards Heathrow and her stomach began to clench nervously. How is he here, too?!
If Marlene were here, she would have been screaming at Lily to go talk to him already. She wasn't the world's biggest believer in fate, but she did think that if the universe kept throwing you into someone's path like that, you better fucking do something about it. Lily, though, didn't believe in that shit at all… but thinking about Marlene's face (and shouted curses) when she inevitably told her this story when she got home that night almost compelled her to say something to him. But no. It would be weird. Right?
She stood quietly on the platform for a few minutes, looking around at the brightly coloured adverts pasted on the opposite side of the platform while they waited. Every once and awhile she got that weird feeling in her gut like she felt someone's eyes on her, but every time she looked around, everyone near her on the platform seemed otherwise occupied.
Super fit gorgeous man, she noted ruefully, was too busy texting to be the one staring at her.
The train pulled into the station a few minutes later, and Super Fit moved over to queue for the same door. She watched as his hands fidgeted around his overcoat, stuffing his mobile into an outer pocket before fiddling with the buttons on the front. God, creep. Stop watching strangers.
He looked up as the doors opened and his eyes found hers - his lips broke into a smile (a crooked, gorgeous, heart stopping, dazzling smile) and he gestured in front of him like he'd done earlier, "After you again."
She should have started up conversation right then. Should have at least said something bloody coherent. Instead, God Marlene will have my head for this, instead, she just flushed, sputtered something completely nonsensical that sounded vaguely like "Thanks," and walked onto the train.
She buried her head into her paper as soon as she sat down… but she still managed to notice (after peeking up from behind the newspaper like a stalker) that he was sitting across from her again. He definitely looked up and saw her looking though, because he flashed that crooked smirk at her again before she dove back behind her newspaper. Reading about Brexit will kill these excited feelings. Let's do that and fall back into our usual pit of despair, yeah?
She hid behind the paper for about half her journey before she looked up in a panic to check the station. Hyde Park. Her eyes flew to the station map on the overhead across from her. Okay, three more stops and then I'm off. She, quite against her will, flicked her eyes downward to check if Super Fit was still on the train. He was. Thankfully, he didn't catch her looking this time. He had his own paper open and his eyes were moving rapidly across one of the centre pages.
The train pulled into Earl's Court a few minutes later and, before she'd even had time to stand up or gather her things, Super Fit was up and off the train. Well, there goes that. Though how fucking weird is it that we're getting off at the same stop again?
She folded the paper up in her arms, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked swiftly off the train before she spaced out long enough and the doors closed on her. It would be an easy enough thing to remedy, but she didn't feel like riding on the tube any longer than necessary.
She stuffed the newspaper into a nearby recycling bin at the foot of the escalator and began rifling through her bag for her Oyster card. She found it, finally, buried in the bottom of the outer pocket of her bag, and walked swiftly through the turnstiles and out onto the street. It was cold, colder than she'd remembered it being when she left her flat this morning, and windy as hell. She buttoned her overcoat, stuffed her hands into her pockets, and tried to tuck her hair into the scarf around her neck, but to no avail. It, as usual, flew around her face and blinded her to most of what was going on around her. And of course, because it was Earls Court, there were people everywhere. It wasn't as bad as the really touristy spots were, especially at this hour of the morning, but still. It took a lot of effort to avoid slamming into people on the street.
Though she was still really new to the city, she had already managed to find (and memorise the way to) a coffee shop that was particularly conducive to writing. Sure, it was just a Costa Coffee, and, sure there was one on the high street all the way back home in Leytonstone, but this one was… this one was perfect. It was far enough away from home that she didn't risk seeing anyone she knew and getting distracted, it was constantly busy (because Kensington) so she had the perfect amount of background noise, and the staff were really nice (and tolerant of the fact that she was usually there all day hammering away on her laptop).
It was a bit of a hike from zone three, but it was worth it. Especially if she finally finished this fucking dissertation. Then it would be the most worth it thing she'd ever done.
Her bag was starting to dig into her shoulder a bit, fucking old arse heavy as hell laptop, so she picked up her pace a bit. It was only a short jaunt up Earls Court Rd, maybe two minutes, but still. It was cold and this laptop was heavy and she had only had one cup of tea that morning and she was going to actually kill someone if she didn't get another cup of tea into her system as soon as humanly possible.
She finally (God, be more dramatic) got to Costa and pulled the door open. The warm air and strong, earthy coffee smell were so amazing after the bitter cold, pollution flavoured air outside that she sighed audibly as she moved into the shop and let the door fall closed behind her. She walked immediately to her spot in the corner and deposited her bag at a table near the window, before pulling out her wallet and walking back towards the counter.
Oh for fucks sake.
There he was - again - standing at the counter waiting for his order, the paper from the tube still stuffed under his arm as he tapped frantically on the screen of his mobile. How?! How in the bloody hell is he here too?!
She felt her cheeks flush, whether with embarrassment or some kind of weird crush (or both) she wasn't quite sure. She would have to say something to him now. This was just too weird to ignore - and it wasn't like he followed her there, which would have been creepy as hell, because he'd left the train first and gotten here before she had. But what if he thinks I'm stalking him?! She took a moment to collect herself, to come down off of whatever mad cloud she'd found herself on before she walked over to the till. The man behind the counter, Frank, had seen her a number of times during her writing trips to this particular Costa and smiled warmly at her. "Lily, right?" he asked, plucking a cup from the stack behind the pastry case and smiling at her. Lily nodded, "Yup! Hi, Frank, how are you?"
"Oh you know," Frank said with a wry smile, "the morning rush just died down, though, so you caught me in a better mood than I was an hour ago." Lily laughed. "The usual, then?" Frank asked, grabbing a pen out of his apron pocket and holding it over the side of the cup. Lily nodded, "Yeah, let's do English this time though."
"And plenty of room for milk," Frank said, scribbling frantically on the side of the cup. "Yes!" Lily said laughing, "You know how I get if I don't have enough milk in my tea." Frank nodded dramatically as though he'd seen Lily destroy any number of things in the name of not enough room for the proper amount of milk before. "Anything to munch on today while you're here?"
Lily thought for a moment before someone spoke next to her, making her jump. "I'd recommend the blueberry scone myself." It was a rich, deep voice and, Lily crossed her fingers, when she turned to see who it belonged to, she found herself staring up at Super Fit himself. His black hair was still standing on end, but his glasses had been pushed back up the bridge of his nose and he was wearing the same smirk he'd thrown at her back on the platform in Holborn. She felt her breath catch in her throat as her eyes moved over his face, probably for way longer than was socially acceptable, before she cleared her throat and turned back to Frank, "I guess I'll be having a blueberry scone." Her voice sounded strange, rougher, but also a little higher than normal? God, I'm pathetic. An attractive man talks to me and I completely fall apart at the seams.
She turned back to Super Fit to thank him, but when she looked round he was halfway towards the door, coffee in hand. So, against all better judgement, against what sane Lily Evans would normally have done, she did something drastic. She shouted at him.
"Oi!"
Super Fit started and turned around, and Lily flushed again. This is a very, very stupid idea. But I've shouted at him now so. "Uh…" Lily fiddled with one of the buttons on the front of her overcoat before smiling at him, "I just wanted to say thanks." He cocked his eyebrow at her. "For the scone recommendation," she clarified.
"Oh," he grinned, "Of course. Scone selection is really important business. I couldn't have you starting your day off with anything less than perfection." Lily laughed, "Oh, so the blueberry scone is perfection, huh?" Super Fit smirked, "Well, it comes as close as pastry can dare. Though don't tell my mates. I'm friends with a seriously devoted chocolate lover and I'm pretty sure he'd kill me with his bare hands if he found out I was out lobbying for blueberry scones."
They both laughed, "Do you make a habit of this? Advocating for blueberry scones all across London?" Super Fit chuckled, "No, but that would make for a really fun Saturday afternoon."
Lily grinned, "As long as your mates don't find out." Super Fit laughed and nodded, "Right. I do enjoy being alive, so I'd have to find some way to keep my plan under wraps."
"Well, I swear that I won't tell anyone." Lily smiled and Super Fit laughed, "Good. You're the first person I've ever tested my blueberry scone powers on, so I would definitely know it was you if word got out."
She was just about to respond with something cheeky, when - "Lily, tea's up!"
Lily hesitated for a moment, "Can you wait for a second?" she asked. Super Fit smiled the broadest smile yet and nodded. She flashed him a quick grin, turned to grab her tea and scone, before turning back to him. "I'm Lily by the way," she said, "In case you didn't already figure that out."
Super Fit laughed, "I pretty much figured when Frank yelled 'Lily' at you and you responded. I'm James. James Potter."
"Isn't it supposed to go 'Potter, James Potter'?" Lily cocked her eyebrow in amusement and James laughed, his deep, bright laugh echoing off the walls of the shop around them, "Good point, Lily. Lily… Lily what?" Lily grinned, "Evans. Lily Evans." James smirked, "Nice to meet you Evans Lily Evans."
She rolled her eyes, but she smiled all the same.
"This might sound weird," James said after a few beats, "but were you sitting across from me on the tube this morning?" "Yes!" Lily said, and then she realised that she sounded too enthusiastic and weirdly sure, so she checked it with, "I thought that was you! We were sitting across from each other on the Central and Piccadilly trains."
James grinned, "Yes! Okay, I thought I was going mad!" Lily laughed, "Me too! Well, okay, good, at least we learned we aren't nutters today." James laughed, "What a great way to start a day - we learned we aren't nutters and we both met very attractive people."
Lily flushed, oh my god he just called me attractive, but she went with the cheeky reply instead of the weirdly fangirlly one that was trying to bubble out of her - "Oh, we did did we?"
"I know I did." James was smiling, but he was staring at her so intently that it was like he was burning holes through her skin. Holy fuck.
"Look," James said, he tucked the parchment bag with his scone inside one of his jacket pockets before he rummaged around and pulled his mobile out of the other one, "I am really, really late for work because I'm an idiot and always insist on coming to this Costa even though it's a twenty minute walk back to the museum so - " James seemed to realise he was rambling and flushed before unlocking his mobile, "Anyway, Evans Lily Evans. I would… I would really like to see you again. If you're… if you're interested, maybe I could get your number?"
Lily grinned, "Well, I did meet a fairly attractive person this morning so I don't know… but I suppose I could see you, too." James laughed and handed her his mobile, the relief evident in his voice when he spoke, "Fairly? I only get fairly attractive?!"
Lily typed her number into his mobile and handed it back to him with a grin, "I can't give you too many compliments, Potter. They might go to your head."
James grinned and tapped quickly on his screen, "My mates will definitely appreciate you trying to keep my ego in check. Check your phone, Evans. See you later." He winked and walked out the door.
Lily took a deep, steadying breath and walked quickly across the shop back to her table. She nearly threw her tea and scone down onto the table before she thought better of it, and rifled through her bag frantically for her mobile. Annoyingly, she found it in the very bottom of her bag, lit up with a message from an unknown number.
You might think I'm only fairly attractive, but I think you're stunning. Dinner with me tonight? I can't wait longer than that before I see you again. x