Day One: Holding Hands
it was so, so cold and they were so, so broken
It surprised him, at first, the feeling of her fingers filling the spaces between his and curling against his rough skin.
"Hi," She whispered. Her nose, red from the cold, brushed against the cloth of his cloak as she looked up at the grey tinted snowflakes that fell onto the dead grass and their heavy shoulders.
He nodded and gave her an uneasy smile that shook her, squeezing her hand.
"I'm sorry."
"So am I," He breathed, staring at the tombstone in front of him. It was dark and cold and made him feel emptier than he ever had before.
"There's nothing you could have done."
"I know," He said, though he didn't completely believe it.
"I don't think you do."
Lily's words startled and hurt him. He glared down at her but in return she stared right back, her eyes just as cold as his.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He asked, dropping her small hand, feeling guilty.
"It means that I know you're going to beat yourself black and blue over it."
He didn't say anything, just stared blankly at the grave with his own name on it and swallowed. His head was pounding, his throat felt raw, and his stomach was twisted into a sick knot.
"I'm not sorry for telling you that," She said after clearing her throat. "You needed to hear it. I'm not going to coddle you about this because people coddled me when my dad died and it made everything worse."
His face softened slightly and he slipped her hand back into his and they stood soundlessly, staring at the snow covered grave.
Then her hand wasn't gripping his and for a split-second he was afraid she was gone. He couldn't handle her leaving her right after his parents did so he made the most movement he had in hours, turning and enveloping Lily in his arm. He let his head droop onto her shoulder and he shook, crying in front of Lily for the first time. She ran her fingers through his wet hair and down his neck soothingly, kissing his ear.
"They loved you, Lily," He said. "Mum thought you were the best thing that ever happened to me."
"That's because I am," She said, sneaking her arms under his cloak to guide her closer to him. He was warm and his cheeks were sticky with salt against the little bare skin that he touched.
"I don't want them to be dead."
"I know, James."
"Does it always feel this empty when your parents die?"
She hummed slightly in a small confirmation.
"You feel empty and completely cheated."
"Empty and cheated," He echoed under his breath. "And sort of dead inside."
"You smell weird."
He scrunched his long nose, pulling back from her.
"I'm grieving over my parents and that's what you have to say to me? That I smell weird?"
She shrugged, pulling a small box out of his pocket and frowning.
"Cigarettes, Potter? Tasteless."
He smoked and it didn't help. Lily didn't help. Nothing would help for a long time because James was hurt, his parents left him without a word, and he didn't know what to think of anything anymore.
"I'm mourning."
"That's no excuse."
She took one out of the case, handing it to him, and ignited it with her wand anyway.