Summary: My chestnut haired angel would be seduced away from me once again. Severus/Lily/James. Reposted & edited in 2014
Prompt: Twirl
I could twirl her around and around, this way and that way, here and there, over and over, and over again.
Eyes sparkling, emerald stones set into porcelean. She would fall back into my skinny, underweight chest, tilt her freckled face up, soft, coppery hair falling out of her face. Then she would smile. At me. At my face, which was always so much more radiant, so much more happy, when she was around. When she was here, spinning in my arms. She made me feel like I made her happy. I did make her happy. She made me believe that she loved me. She would tell me, again and again.
"I love you, Severus," she sang, with a voice like a thousand bluebirds erupting from the sunset. Eyes closed as she raised her arms above her head, and twirled around in the middle of the fraying, ugly rug in the middle of the classroom floor. When we met to dance, she always wore the same white nightdress. Long, opal coloured, filmy. Lily was my exact definition of a redheaded angel, the way she drifted around in the dark room, head to the ceiling, eyes clamped shut, a luminous, glowing smile on her pretty features. I wanted to kiss her, always. Lean forward, it would be easy. She wouldn't know until my lips were melting with hers. I told myself, every night, I would do it.
But things never go to plan.
The door would be pushed open. Handle twisting, wood creaking. It was only an unused Dark Arts classroom, after all. Anyone could stroll right in. I wiped the scowl off my face. Why did I think I had such rights? But maybe I had right to frown. It was always James Potter, with his shiny dark hair, cheeky smirk and bespectacled face. James Potter, tall, dark and handsome, broad-shouldered, strong-biceps. James Potter, funny, cheerful, trickster, and the Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, to top it all off. James Potter, who could have any girl he wanted, but to chose the only person who showed me any attention. James Potter, James Potter, James Potter. Everybody loved James Potter.
Lily's smile would brighten as she spotted James, and she would continue dancing, only speeding up her movements, pushing out her chest, swerving around the intruder, looking at him with a sultry smile, as if she was starving hungry, and he was a particularly delicious chocolate bar. Hands met hands, and James' dark eyes met mine grey. That sinister smirk he spared only for me. My chestnut haired angel would be seduced away from me once again.
Leaving me here. To twirl alone.