A/N: So… I'm slacking from exams, and I was listening to David Usher's Souring, and this came to me. I hope you enjoy it. A small note: italics denote a flashback. Enjoy! Oh, and don't forget to review, (Smiles!)

I Hate That I Need You And Don't Know Why

She bit her lip, eyes trained on the large blots of rainwater staining the glass window. Her fist gripped the air tightly, her right foot twitching up and down, even in her erect position. She let out a long sigh, expecting relief - it never came.

Her hand gripped tighter, nails biting into the pale flesh of her palm. Merlin, what was happening to her? She lifted a shaky hand to her forehead, pushing the absent strands of deep red hair behind her ear – a nervous habit.

It had been a month since they had last spoken. A month! A full month of silence, brought on by her own words and leading to the confusion she now faced.

Confusion? Maybe.

No. She understood. She just didn't … get it. She understood that her heart fluttered when she saw him walk toward her, and clenched painfully as if the blood flow was constricted when he turned away to another. She understood that her grades had dropped recently because of her lack of concentration about whether it was possible for anyone to turn into any type of animal, and her mind's cruel joke of replacing all thoughts with his name. Oh, she understood.

She physically jumped when the portrait hole closed with a "bang!" and a soft draft flew across her heated cheeks. She turned swiftly towards the hole, her heart once again beating against her ribcage in hopes of… well, in hopes of something.

Just a noisy first year.

She turned back to the window, both fists clenched tighter – if it were possible. Her lower jaw was tight against her upper, her shoulders tight. She took a deep breath, biting her lip until the copper taste of blood blessed her senses. Third time that week….

She understood what was happening to her body, she just didn't get why. That was the problem. His every move elicited some response, as if he were a direct threat to her, and her parasympathetic nervous system was reacting. His deep, soothing voice trailed over her when his hand rose in class, and he was called upon. She found herself trying to keep her eyes dry when he passed her without a second glance; trying to hold herself back from burying her head in his shoulder and holding him for hours.

What was wrong with her?

"'Eh Prongs, practice tomorrow morning?" Her shoulders tensed a fraction more, a strain in the muscles causing her to gasp out in pain.

"Yeah, six o'clock, Slytherins don't stand a chance next game." He was there, right behind her. She inhaled deeply, releasing her hands, and stretching the fingers.

She needed to speak to him, alone. Without the overzealous company of the one he called "Padfoot." She turned with a whirl, her cloak hitting the stone wall beside her roughly. Her eyes followed him past the overstuffed chairs and towards his small group of friends. This was her chance.

As he took a seat with three other boys, she took small, planned steps toward him until she stood beside him, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide in disbelief. His male counterpart stared up at her, a single eyebrow raised in annoyance. She opened her mouth to speak, but continued to stand in silence.

"What do you want Evans? Thought we were finally free of your nagging."

She stared at his friend, hands clenched tightly at her sides once again. Her mouth clamped shut, and her eyes closed to hold back the sprinkle of tears that the burning in her cheeks signaled. She opened them once again, and looked over at the boy who had caused her so much anguish that month.

"Pot… James, I need to speak with you." She crossed her fingers in hopes that he would oblige without question, but her luck eluded.

"What? So you can once again rip my dignity and respect to shreds? I don't think so. Now, go on, and have yourself a terrible night." She bit her lip, pulling her eyes away from his annoyed expression to stare up at the high ceiling of the common room. "And by the way, it's Mr. Potter to you."

That was it, that's what set her off. Un-autonomously, she reached out and pulled him up and away from his group of friends. Her body controlled itself until she stood outside the common room, a deathly grip on the front of his uniform. She stared up at him, shock evident on both their faces. She let go of his uniform quickly, eyes shooting to the ground until he began to walk away again.

"Wait! I need to talk to you!"

"You've said enough Evans. Trust me, I get it."

"You know what's the matter with you? You expect too much from simple words. Don't you get it? You're everything I despise. Everything! I hate you! Why can't you just leave me alone, like I've been asking you to for years?" Her cheeks flared a deep red, eyes blazing.

He stood facing her, mouth gaping, and hurt more than evident in his eyes. "Fine! You hate me; I get it! I just don't understand how you can be so much of a bitch to completely neglect getting to know me at all! How can you judge, when you don't even understand yourself?"

She glared back at him, her whole body shaking in anger.

He turned on her, eyes no longer filled with the pain that was there moments before. "I thought I loved you! I thought you were the epitome of perfection, and were just shy and unable to get to know because of some life-changing event in your past! How wrong was I, eh? You're just a stuck-up snob who doesn't think anyone's good enough! Excuse me for hoping that inside your ice-heart, there'd be some sort of ability to love! You don't know me; you have no right to judge me! You want me to leave you alone? Fine! Consider me no longer part of your existence!" He threw the white rose bud he had first offered her at her feet and stormed away, cloak flapping behind him.

"I do know you James Potter! You should've known perfection doesn't exist, just look in the mirror!"

She looked up at his angered face, all words escaping her. It was her fault that she was in this predicament. She had brought everything upon herself and she was alone faced with the consequences. Her head shot up once again as the boy standing across from her let out a frustrated growl and once again turned away.

"You were right!"

He paused.

"I'm a bitch! I was looking for perfection, and despite my own words, had found it and let it leave." She paused, and stared down at her hands before continuing in a softer voice. "I had no right to judge you so unfairly, but you've always been so pompous headed, and I couldn't understand. I…" She stopped and peered up at him, inhaling deeply before continuing.

"I hate that I need you, and I don't know why. I just… do."

He turned around to face her, jaw set, and eyes gleaming still with anger.

"I'm sorry for what I said, I just… you were so aggravating! But now… now I can't stop thinking about you. How you walk down the corridor with such… finesse. How you somehow come up with every possible correct solution to everything, when I stumble over my own words more often than not. I…I hate it. I hate that I need you. I have no idea why I need you, I just… woke up and…" She dropped her hands in dejected defeat.

"I woke up and realized that…" she swallowed before peering up at him and shrugging. "I woke up and realized that I love you, and I have no idea why."

"James Potter at your service Milady." He held his hand out for her to take, and stared expectantly back at her. With a lifted brow she waved off his proffered hand and walked up the steps without him.

"Right… different approach then?" He came up beside her, tossing a lazy arm around her shoulders and pulling her beside him. "I haven't seen you here before; new student?" He hit his forehead with his other hand, "What am I saying, a gorgeous girl like you an old student and never noticed? I must be mad."

"I've gone here for four years Mr. Potter, and I couldn't agree more – you are mad. Now," she lifted his hand from her shoulder as if it were infected and gave him a disgusted smile "if you'll please leave me alone, I'd be very gracious." She continued walking down the train corridor, a hop in her step.

"Oh, she SO wants me."

He stared down at her, mouth agape and eyes round.

"I just needed you to know that. I'll be going now." She stared back down at her feet and passed him quickly, moving back towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. His voice stopped her, sending a chill down her spine.

"So… you need me? My pestering, and obnoxious ways; you need them?"

She turned around slowly, her lip tightly held between her teeth. "Maybe not those attributes; but yes I need you, in a really big, scary way." She peered up at him once again, the pain of rejection evident in her features.

"You should've just told me to begin with instead of being a complete cow about everything. Would've solved a lot of problems."

"I didn't know until now, thank you very much. And I still don't completely get it… I mean… I understand, but… I don't"

A smirk flew across his features, causing her breath to catch in her throat. A low chuckle erupted from his own throat, hands flying up to scratch through his messy dark locks. "Don't worry, I understand." He nodded, and a small smile made its way slowly onto her face. "You SO want me."

"Hey Evans!" His voice traveled across the lawn, causing an annoyed shiver to travel up her spine. "Oi!"

"What do you want Potter?" She yelled back, her annoyance clearly presented in her tone.

"You! I NEED you Evans. Like my heart needs blood to pump! Like my brain needs oxygen to fire! You, Evans, are my air!" She rolled her eyes at his dramatic exclamation, and reached for her things to pack up.

"Too bad Potter, guess your brain will continue to not function, and your heart will stop beating. Try converting back to oxygen, you actually have a chance with that."

His loud, obnoxious guffaw traveled to her ears, and her heart beat slightly faster.

"There will be no conversion for me Lily Evans, you are all I need."

She turned towards him, a smirk gracing her small features, "Guess you're doomed to a painful death."

His hand shot to his heart, covering it with a mock pained expression on his face. "Ouch."

She stared up at him, an insult on the tip of her tongue; but the way he was sauntering towards her, and the soft smile tugging at his lips stopped her heart and words simultaneously. "So… I want you. You could even say: you are all I need at this point in time. So what?"

He stood in front of her, a hand raised to stroke the soft skin of her cheek. He lowered his head slowly, palming her cheek and bringing his other hand up and around her waist. "Just needed that settled; ditto."

His lips met hers softly, and she felt for the first time in a month that she could breathe. Oh, and what air it was…