A/N: Please R/R, your feedback means the world to me. Enjoy!
Lily Evans was obsessed with her boyfriend.
Maybe it was because he constantly surprised her with tiny gifts throughout the day when he knew she was stressing for an exam. They wouldn't even be gifts, just worn out bits of parchment with his fabulously untidy scrawl, not unlike his hair. "Good luck!" or "Slughorn would rather die before failing you—don't worry" were usually the most frequent. She kept each slip of paper in a small jar by her bed, her stomach tingling in anticipation at the thought of seeing him the next day.
Of course, Lily and James barely spent any time away from each other, much to the dismay of their friends. They'd wake up and walk to breakfast together. They'd hold hands as they hurried to classes together. They'd study in the library together. They'd sit by that one shady tree by the Black Lake together. They'd talk in the common room together.
It was sickening to the other Gryffindors.
The novelty had worn off, it was clear. No longer was James praised for finally landing the stubborn girl and being so persistent in undertaking the challenge. Rumors ceased flying about the pair, particularly the one about how James was planning on dumping Lily for Sirius.
No. James Potter and Lily Evans were head over heels for each other, and nobody could do anything but watch in either envy or awe.
The girls, mostly, watched with envy. They wanted something as perfect as James and Lily. They wanted the handsome Quidditch star player with the good grades and Head Boy badge.
The boys watched with awe, wondering why in the world Lily continued to stay with him after finding out about all of his previous hexes and jinxes and jokes and pranks.
They didn't know the half of it.
One night, when her mind was drifting away from the homework she should be completing, Lily realized that her relationship with James was big. It was important. And she really didn't want to mess it up.
"James?" Lily asked suddenly, looking up from her Charms essay, her quill rattling from her grasp. She glanced around; slightly surprised he wasn't sitting directly next to her, like usual.
"Hm?" He was reading a Quidditch book comparing the teams in America to those in England, his long legs sprawled across the common room couch.
"James, I love you."
The book dropped from his fingers, tumbling from his lap to the ground with a dull thud. She glanced up at him worriedly, his hair already sticking up in odd places like it did when he was nervous.
"Sorry, what?"
"I love you." She said it with no waver in her voice. She was perfectly clear and sure and she wanted him to know. "I love you. I love you and your obsession for Quidditch, the way you run your hands through your hair when you're nervous—just like you're doing now. I love the way you make me laugh, and the way you write stupid little notes for me during the day." She shrugged, reaching for his book that he had dropped. Pressing it into his hands, she repeated, "I love you. And it seems silly not to tell you, considering what's going on out there."
She glanced out of the window meaningfully. The war. She meant the war.
When he didn't say anything back, she turned back towards her essay, tucking her legs underneath her, trying not to feel dejected. Merlin, they'd only been going out for a month. It felt like so much longer…She probably freaked him out.
He tugged on one of her strands of hair.
"Ow!" she cried, whirling around to glare at him. "I just told you that I bloody love you, and you respond by pulling my hair?"
James grinned, bending down to kiss her. She tasted like vanilla and books and ink and Lily. Her fingers fisted into his shirt as his hands found her hair. After what seemed like forever, they broke apart, breathless. Her green eyes looked huge and hungry in the dimming light, making James shiver.
Before he knew what he was doing, James Potter was lightly kissing Lily on the top of her head. "I love your hair and the way you let me play with it."
He bent down and kissed her forehead. "I love your intelligence."
His lips traveled from her forehead to her eyes. "I love your gorgeous green eyes."
He brushed his lips from her eyelids to her hands. "I love the way you write me cute little notes during the day. Which, by the way, are much less stupid than mine."
He looked at her carefully before brushing his lips against her chest. "I love your heart. Your bravery. Everything you love, you protect, and I wish I could be like that."
Finally, he kissed her lips. "I love you, Lily," he whispered against her, his lips at her ear. "I've known it for a while, I was just afraid you'd…find someone better."
Lily pulled away, her eyebrows rising. "Am I detecting a certain hint of self-consciousness in James Potter's voice?" Lily teased, stroking his hair lightly. His black hair was silky and smooth and utterly irresistible. She watched in fascination as the boy with the smart mouth and bravery greater than most of the Gryffindors leaned into her palm, his eyelids fluttering slightly. Lily's stomach rolled over. Love. She loved this boy.
"Only around you," he said quietly, looking at her from beneath his never ending hazel eyes.
Lily grinned. "If I'm not mistaken, I'd call you a romantic." She continued to run her hands through his hair, kneeling in front of the couch he was sprawled out on. His eyes were closed, and Lily knew that pairing long Quidditch practices with grueling study hours, her boyfriend needed more sleep than the average teenager.
She kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you."
She loved saying it. She loved the thrill of the words on her lips, how they buzzed and made her feel like she was gulping down bottles and bottles of Butterbeer.
She felt warm. She felt safe.
She felt home.
And she never wanted to let go of him or the way he made her feel for as long as she lived.