He knows he loves her when she is sleeping.
When she sleeps the fire and sharpness and sparkling energy that is LilyLunaPotter dissapates, leaving behind only a shade, the last vestiges of the tiny girl he once knew showing through under painted eyelids and the few red curls that fall in her face.
He knows then that he loves her, because only love can be both this aching for the days when she was Lilypad and he was justTeddy, and at the same time yearning to have her back, the way she goes limp and lifeless when sleep extinguishes her sparkle scaring him, because Lily Luna Potter is never this still.
When she sleeps she is no one, not little Lilypad nor Slytherin Lils or just plain dragonsfire Lily, and yet he still loves her.
This, Teddy knows, is love.
