Easter Break
Lily climbed out of the cab and waved to Tanya. She stumbled slightly in the heels, but steadied herself and gave the departing taxi a thumbs up to show she was grand to make it up her steps and into her bed.
She stopped at the bottom of her stairs, seriously weighing the pros and cons of taking the bloody shoes off. Pro, less chance of falling down the steps. Con, the cold and rain would soak into her feet in moments. Sighing, she chose the riskier option. She started up the stairway, making very good use of the hand rail.
At the top, she jumped in surprise and nearly did fall down the entire flight of steps. "James!" she said, to the person huddled next to her door. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged, rising. "I came round because I thought you had mentioned something about picking up a few shifts over the holiday."
"I wasn't working tonight," she said. "Everyone is hanging onto their shifts for dear life these days, so I don't think I'll be able to pick any up. I just went out for a drink with Tan and them."
He nodded. "Sure," he said. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
She smiled, thinking his concern really was very sweet. "Do you want to come in?" she asked, struggling with her keys.
He took them lightly from her hand and unlocked the door. "You are alright, aren't you?"
"Certainly. Have I ever told you that I absolutely love strawberry daiquiris?" she asked, backing through the door. It turned out to have been a bad plan, as the damn shoes sabotaged her and caught on the door jam. She tripped and would have fallen on her arse if James' reflexes hadn't been so quick.
"Uh huh," he said, smiling slightly at her. "You seem top shape."
She blushed. "These damn shoes," she mumbled, as he helped her straighten. "They've been nothing but trouble. I should toss them straight in the bin."
He eyed the heels with an incomprehensible look. "That would be a shame," he said after a moment.
"So, ummm . . ." she began, searching for a topic of conversation. "How has your holiday been?"
He smiled at her. She had an almost irresistible urge to trace his mouth with her fingers. Something about his smile simply did her in. "Well," he said. "As it just began, I can't really say. The first day has been . . . unusual," he decided. "Yours seems to be off to a sparking start."
She realized a moment too late that her hand had moved of its own accord. She ran her thumb across his bottom lip. Deciding it was already too late to save face, she rose on her toes and replaced her hand with her mouth.
As he had before, he kissed her back for a moment. Then he pulled away, breathing deeply. "Right, well, you seem to be alright then. I should probably," he gestured vaguely at the door behind him, "go."
She stared at him, mortification beginning to set in. And if she felt this way despite the fuzzy state of her brain, she had a vague idea how much more she would regret it in the morning.
"Well, uh, have a good night then," he said, backing out the door. He closed it, and she heard him start down the steps.
She stumbled toward her bed, then stopped, pulling off her shoes. She chucked them, one after another, at the door he has just closed. Bloody bastard, she thought. Always winding her up and then leaving her feeling the fool.
She flopped onto her bed, covering her face with her pillow. Please, please, please let it be a dream, she prayed. Let her wake up in the morning on Joe's couch, with no chance at all she'd just thrown herself at James Potter. Again. And been rejected. Again.