Warnings are AU, language, self-harm, attempted suicide, and sexual content.
It was during her third year that Lily really began to fall for him. He was, as ever, tall and handsome, a dark curtain of hair about his chiseled face. Never very popular, though, which was fine by her. He was intelligent and cunning, and spent a lot of his time practicing charms and reading up on difficult potions, and if that somehow made people look down on him, well, Lily was quite content to hold his hand in the hallway and pull him past the crowd of ne'er do wells.
It took him until she was nearly sixteen to summon the courage to kiss her. But it was worth the wait, because she did, quite literally, feel the air being sucked from her lungs. His arms were strong and though slightly awkward, they were no less then the arms that swept her off her feet.
When they left school, Severus went away to get some superb training at a wizarding university ran by the Ministry. He was set to become a Healer, probably the best Mungo's would ever see. Lily, declaring her love for him, promised to wait; he asked her not to. He wouldn't steal her life from her, as at the very minimum his training would take four years. It was impossible for her to come with him; the program would take him around the world, and it wasn't a fit life style for her anyway.
She sent him letters every other day; he rarely replied. Time, he said, was very precious, and most of his was spent elbow-deep in blood and human organs. He told her, though, that a day-an hour-didn't go by without him thinking of her. She was everything to him, and once out of school, if she'd still have him, he would give her the life she always deserved.
Lily kept the letters in a locked drawer, pulling them out whenever his absence became too much to bear. She looked up, every night, at the velvety sky, strewn with jewel-like stars, and felt a small sense of comfort that somewhere, Severus was looking up at the same sky.
oooo
She really does hate James. But she hates being alone more. And alone is just what Severus left her.
It was quite the scandal, actually, Severus Snape having an affair with one of the head Healers at St. Mungo's. It was a year or so after he'd finished his studies, and Lily, as she'd always promised, had indeed waited for him. And he was really just the worst sort of person, he'd said, because he wasn't worthy of her. At one time, possibly, he had been, but now...and Lily had been hurt and bewildered and scarred, but he'd been crueler still. He'd bent down to give her a farewell kiss, and it was no less magical than their first kiss had been.
She'd reached out for him, but he'd already pushed himself away from her and Disapparated.
oooo
James holds her hand, though she doesn't really feel it. She doesn't feel anything anymore. She'd decided long ago-the day her heart had been shattered, to be precise-that she'd never feel again. She'd blindly gone to James, because he'd always doted on her, been infatuated with her beauty, even if he hadn't, as Severus had, ever appreciated the non-physical things about her. He was easy enough prey, for he instantly became hers.
This was the very last place on the planet she wanted to be, but she had something to prove. She was going to show Severus that if he could just drop her out of his life, waste years of time, then she could just as easily find somebody who'd have her. It wasn't about love, but it didn't have to be. Just the fact that James hadn't tossed her was enough.
The reception hall is sort of pretty, she supposes, but far too out-landish for her tastes. She is sure Severus loathes it. The many flowers and bursts of pink everywhere are certainly not his style.
Lily looks lovely. She's wearing a black dress, strapless and falling just above her knees. She chose black to mourn, to mourn the loss of the life she very much wanted, the life she'll never get. James likes the dress because of the amount of her skin it reveals. He hasn't stopped eyeing her all evening, but she's long since accepted the fact that she's hardly more than an object to him.
She looks at Severus, for the thousandth time. She is sure he is avoiding her gaze, because she thought she saw him glance at her once before, out of the corner of his eye, but it hasn't happened again. Lily sighs, allowing her hair, kept long all these years because that's how Severus liked it, to fall over her face, covering one eye. She doesn't know how long she can stand this. She is fidgeting and restless and wants nothing more then to barge down the aisle and grab Severus by the collar, to shake some sense into him.
When she pictured this moment, Severus standing at the altar in a handsome tux, she always thought it would be her as the radiant bride, draped in white. But life doesn't always-or ever-go as planned, especially for Lily Evans.
And really, what difference does it make? Severus made his choice, and what he chose wasn't her.
oooo
She tugs James by his arm, and they leave before the "I dos". As she stands, Severus looks directly at her, and his black eyes meld into her green ones. It's like everyone else around them is frozen in time, and just the two of them are aware. She tries to hide the tears running down her face, but she knows he sees them anyway.
Back at her flat in nothing but a sheet, James having left after making love to her (because really, that's what he's after; it's always been fucking, and he really is so unoriginal and dreary), Lily smokes a cigarette and decides that, quite frankly, she has had enough.
oooo
Her favorite picture of him is the one of him graduating Hogwarts. He looked so handsome in Slytherin green, and his is a smile that always makes her want to smile. She sets the frame out on the terrace, up on the flat top of the wooden railing. She wants him to be the last one she sees, and though she would prefer the real him, this at-best paltry imitation is the closest she knows she's going to get.
She gets the idea from a book, a book of plays. And James never understood why she reads them, why she reads so much at all, really, but Severus always did. So it's the middle of the night and the little apartment is cold. There is snow outside, snow all over, and snow falling, and wouldn't pools of red, of her broken heat, look just so picturesque in the wintry morning?
"He would say, "How funny it will all seem, all you've gone through, when I'm not here anymore, when you no longer feel my arms around your shoulders, nor my heart beneath you, nor this mouth on your eyes, because I will have to go away someday, far away...' And in that instant I could feel myself with him gone, dizzy with fear, sinking down into the most horrible blackness: into death."
And Lily knows there's nothing left for her now. She's let her destiny slip away from her, and she could've fought, but she didn't. She never belonged in Gryffindor, because she isn't brave and she isn't strong and she certainly doesn't possess the fire she once did.
She really hates James. But she hates being alone more. And alone is just what Severus has left her.
oooo
She sees something glinting, and it almost blinds her. She can feel herself being lifted into arms (familiar arms and strong arms and they have always meant safety, solace) and she smells him, and it is nostalgic and makes the very core of her being whimper. But he is not hers, not anymore, and if this is some trick of Death, she will have no part of it.
"My dearest Lily, what have you done?" His voice is deep as ever, though slightly panicked.
Good, she thinks, good that he is worried, because this is his fault...but then she wonders why he's here in the first place. He's supposed to be on his...on his...and Lily can't stand to think the word honeymoon. It leaves her mouth dry and her ears roaring with rushing blood.
She feels his hands on her, and she'd like to protest; what right does he think he has to touch her? But she knows that she'll let him - he's always been her weakness, and she supposes some thing will never change. The dull sensations on her wrists that the knife left are leaving her, replaced with warmth and comfort, a soothing feeling that could only come with Severus and his presence.
She is becoming more aware, and it's a testament to his healing skills more than anything, and she wonders if that's why he's doing this. Saving her, that is. If his oath to save lives outweighed the fact that he doesn't love her, that he's chosen another woman to spend his life with. He never could stand guilt, so perhaps this is his way of trying to find forgiveness.
Lily laughs, the sound coming out gargled. If he thinks she's going to let him off the hook for everything, everything, that he's done to her..."Leave." she says, opening an eye. "Leave. Now." Her voice is icy and she hopes that her resolve can last until he's gone. The very last thing she wants right now is for him to listen to her. She wants him, needs him, to stay, to stay with her.
She pushes herself up, realizing that he had put her on the sofa, directly in front of the fireplace. "Please." She says, her vision clearing and her focus solely on him. He's still in his tuxedo, so handsome and so regal, and she hates that she can't keep her eyes off him.
"I can't trust you to be alone. That worthless moron Potter really is good for nothing."
Lily agrees, but she won't let him see that. "Why are you here?"
Severus covers his left hand with his right one, and comprehension washes over Lily, leaving her stomach churning sickly. The glinting silver was his wedding ring.
"It doesn't matter," Lily says, swinging her legs off the couch and attempting to stand. She sways, but dodges the waiting arms of Severus, as he seems to have expected her poor balance. "All that matters is you're...you're...married. Not to me. So get out. She's waiting for you."
"Why would you do this to yourself, Lily? Don't you realize - "
"Because I can." Lily breaks in, "I can and I did and I will again. I will until it works. I'm so bleeding sick, Sev. So sick of everything. And ending it seems rather perfect, actually. It would have been, if you hadn't interfered."
"I just wanted to save you."
Lily turns away from his, familiar tears burning in her eyes. "If you wanted to save me," She whispers, the tears falling from her eyes onto the carpet, splattering in wide patterns, "why did you break me?"
He comes up behind her, his arms encircling her, and it's the worst kind of torment, knowing that this moment won't, that it can't, last, but she's like a beggar, grasping for whatever he will give her. His breath is hot on her neck, his mouth ghosting along her ear lobe.
"Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar," he says, his voice low, "but never doubt that I love."
And it is the most beautiful words coming from the most beautiful man. Hamlet always was her favorite, but it is tragedy personified and Lily always like to imagine, privately of course, that Hamlet and Ophelia really rode off in the sunset together, once upon a time and happily ever after and all of that. She really is a hopeless romantic, and that just makes it all worse.
"Don't," she pleads, "not that. Don't say that."
"I speak the truth...would you rather me lie?"
"You're already lying." Lily says, and though she knows that it would be the wise thing do to get away, to move from him, the Sorting Hat never considered her for Ravenclaw for a reason. So she stands there, simply reveling in their closeness. It will be the last time, she knows. He will leave, and she will die. It's as simple as that.
"I said your name." Severus whispers after a still moment, his arms still tight around her.
"What?" She is confused, not knowing what he means; he's said her names millions of times, of course. Why should he single out one time, out of all the many, many others?
"Instead of hers. I vowed my life, my love, to you. I couldn't...it wasn't an accident or a slip of tongue. I wouldn't do something like that. It was the truth," He grips her shoulders and turns her around, so she's facing him. She nearly gasps, being this close, smelling him and looking into his eyes, those glittering eyes that she's so desperately missed, "because, my dearest Lily, I was sick of living a lie."
He sighs, heaving himself away from her onto the sofa. "I just wanted you to have the opportunity to become everything you deserve. I didn't know it would be Potter," he says the name with a sneer, "but I figured it would be somebody handsome and well off, somebody who could give you a large house and children...I'm a Healer, and I'll always be. It isn't a choice; I must save lives."
He stands again, in front of her. "But I will always belong to you. I never stopped." He pulls his ring off and hands it to her, placing it in the palm of her hand.
She holds it up to the light, the thin silver band. On the inside there is an inscription, the words in a delicate script and more powerful than words had any right to be.
For where thou art, there is the world itself, And where thou art not, desolation.
"Severus - "
"Just say you'll wear it. Say you'll be mine, again. I'll never let you fall Lily, never." He slips the ring on her left hand, and she knows he's telling the truth. This whole thing, his affair and an almost marriage, they were done to give her another life, a chance at happiness without him. He left her, and he didn't deserve her. She sees it now, sees it like their roles were reversed and she been the one to traipse off around the world for years.
He takes her then, kisses her deeply like it's their first kiss all over, and she gladly lets him. This evening didn't go at all according to plan, but life doesn't always-or ever-go as planned, especially for Lily Evans.
I do love me some Lily/Severus. First quote is from the author Arthur Rimbaud, the second from the play Hamlet, the third from the play Henry IV.
As ever, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading!