She awoke to bright sun streaming in from the window and birds chirping somewhere outside. "Fuck,"she moaned as she rolled over and pulled the covers on her head. "Why is it so bright?" she complained to no one in particular. Her head was throbbing, and as she slowly removed the covers from her face and opened her eyes, she felt her irises contract painfully. "Merlin," she stretched herself out, tenderly trying to remove the knots that had accumulated in her muscles.
She rose from the bed and took in her strange surroundings. It was certainly not her flat; Lily kept her things much tidier. Clothes were strewn all about the room, and only the dress she had worn last night belonged to her. She left it on the floor, remaining in her bra and tights as she left the room to explore her surroundings. A mirror over the door revealed smeared lipstick, smudged eye shadow and extremely disheveled hair. She scratched her head, opened the door and wandered out into the hallway.
Lily Evans was a mess. That was certain. When had this happened to her? When had she become so calm about waking up in strange locales, half naked and hung over? This should not be a common practice, and yet she was completely unfazed. She thought she might be able to place the beginning of this…
"Good morning, love," a cheerful voice greeted her from behind a newspaper as she made her way into the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
She nodded her head and yawned, "Yes, please," stretching her back as she did so.
James Potter set down the copy of The Daily Prophet he had been reading and rose to the counter to retrieve the requested tea. Lily took a seat at the table, snatched a piece of toast from his plate and took a bite.
James returned to the table and set the tea down in front of her, "Sleep well?" he smiled.
She nodded, and swallowed the bit of toast in her mouth before asking, "Where are we?"
He chuckled, "My place. Don't you remember?"
"Not really," she took another bite of toast. "Did we…" she blushed at the thought, "What did we do?"
"Well you went out drinking," yes, she remembered that, "and got completely pissed," well, obviously, "and I just happened to be there," he smirked, "and you noticed, because how could you not notice? I have a presence." Lily rolled her eyes at him, "And you found me and declared your love for me and demanded that I take you home at once."
She winced, "How much of that is true?"
"At least ninety percent."
"And what happened after you brought me home?"
He looked away from her, "We snogged a bit…"
"So you took advantage of your poor inebriated friend who obviously needed your help," she scolded.
"Well, I wasn't exactly sober, and you were offering, almost begging, really."
She rolled her eyes. "Sure I was…"
"Well, maybe not begging…" She narrowed her eyes at him, "Well you started it, anyway."
She chuckled. That sounded about right… "But that," she swallowed hard, "That's all, right."
"Well… yeah…" James was avoiding eye contact with her.
She cringed. "I fell asleep didn't I?"
James burst into laughter, "Yes. You did. One second your tongue was in my mouth and I went to turn out the light and the next think I knew you were asleep. And snoring."
She was blushing furiously, but couldn't help but laugh with him. "I'm sorry about that…"
"It's alright," he replied, "I knew it was too good to be true."
Her laughter subdued and she looked away from him, taking a sip of tea. A smile lingered on his face, but was slowly fading.
"I-it doesn't have to be," she said, turning to face him. He looked at her curiously, "It- maybe it- maybe it could be true."
He gave her a small smile, "The moment's passed, Lily. We can't go back now. You can pretend it never happened and go back to hating me in peace now. So long as you don't mind my keeping the memory."
"I don't hate you," she said, "I don't hate you at all. In fact," she smiled, "I'm really quite fond of you. I-I don't remember exactly what I said to you last night, but I'm sure that at least most of it was true. Something about drunken words being sober thoughts, right? And I'm over lying about the whole thing anyway."
"What are you trying to say?" He was cautious. He was playing it safe, the way he had learned to be with her after all these years.
"I'm trying to say that I fancy you, James," she blushed, "Quite a lot, if we're being honest here."
He beamed at her, his expression the happiest she had ever seen, "Well, it just so happens that I fancy you too, Lily."
She chuckled, "Well what a coincidence."
"A lovely little happenstance."
"Want to give last night another try?" She tried for a sly sort of look, but couldn't stop her grin long enough to manage it.
As a reply, he leaned over, grasped the back of her neck, and kissed her.
An hour later, they lay together on James' couch. Lips swollen, hair messier than ever, necks both covered with pink marks in various shades. Lily's head rested on James' bare chest, and she traced shapes onto his stomach with her fingertips. James had one hand playing with her hair, the spread across them both and resting on her waist. After a while, Lily's hand stopped moving, and the only noise in the room came from their breathing.
"Y-you told me you loved me," James said, "last night. You said you loved me."
"Did I?"
"Yes," he breathed, silently asking her.
She moved to gaze at his face, "Could be true."
