Room Service
Chapter 21
It's almost unbelievable how the day feels immeasurably worse than even the one before.
For a moment, Lily considers taking the day off from work entirely to wallow in bed and binge through the shows she's piled up on her watchlist and saved for a 'later' that never ends up arriving. But before she can call McGonagall and inform her manager of the decision, a string of messages lighting up on her phone stops her short.
WhatsApp Private Chat
Mary MacDonald to Lily Evans
21/10/2021 12:03 p.m.
xxxxxx
Mary: Oh my God
Guess who's here
Lily: Who
Mary: Fleamont
And Euphemia
POTTER
Lilyyyy
Are you there?
Lily: Yes
I am
Wow that's… interesting
They're there to meet James and Sirius then?
Mary: Think so
And also to check on the hotel maybe
But here's the truly interesting bit
Lily: Are you pausing for dramatic effect again?
Mary: And you're ruining it again
Euphemia came up to the reception
And asked after you!
Lily: What? Like me specifically?
Mary: Yes she said
"What time does Lily Evans get in dear?"
Lily: Oh
Mary: That's all you have to say?
Lily: Was James around
Mary: Um
No
They went upstairs to meet him after speaking to McGonagall
Lily: Okay
Mary: But Mrs Potter did say she wanted to meet you Lil
Lily: Okay
Thanks love
Mary: For what
Lil?
Okay gotta go now
Getting a call
For the warning, she hadn't said.
But when she stands outside the hotel entrance a few hours later, pulling in a steadying breath and wiping clammy hands on the fabric of her skirt, Lily's certainly grateful—more than grateful—for the information granted by Mary beforehand. She can only guess at the state she would've been in had she walked into the hotel to encounter Mrs Potter there, unprepared. Having a meltdown in front of the owner during her very first meeting with her would not have been the best impression to create, to say the least.
After returning Nick's curious smile near the doors, she walks inside with a nod, fingers clenched tightly around the strap of her handbag. But just as soon as her eyes land on the Front Desk, her feet stutter, a nervous swoop fluttering through her stomach uncomfortably. There, crowded around the reception, stands James, along with a man and a woman who she can only presume are his parents.
He's running a hand through his hair, appearing agitated, smile stiff on his face as the couple talks to Mary animatedly over the counter. And then, before she can so much as move an inch from her spot, his gaze flies up, as if sensing her presence from across the lobby, and lands straight on her. Lily's breath hitches in her throat, insides twisting with a familiar ache as she watches his eyes widen ever so slightly, right before a blank, expressionless mask goes up to block off any emotion. And yet, he doesn't look away; he stares; he waits; he tortures—for long enough that she can easily recall the darkness of those same eyes, the feeling of that mouth, sliding over hers.
For long enough that she considers turning away and leaving like a coward.
"Lily!"
Mary's jovial greeting snags her attention, and when she looks away, it's to find the brunette smiling at her, seeming a tad bit apologetic as she waves her forward.
Lily unglues her feet, tacks on a practised smile, and hurries to join the group at the reception. The woman, Mrs Potter, carries herself with staggering elegance and poise despite the towering heights of the two men stood on her either side; Lily instantly admires that confidence. Fleamont Potter, who she's been told prefers the quieter side of life and generally only steps into matters regarding the hotel business when situations are intense, is practically an aged-up version of James, with every feature, barring his brown eyes, being an exact replica of his son's. There's an immediate, unassuming fondness on both of their faces when she approaches them.
"Lily," Euphemia greets softly, stepping forward and giving her a surprisingly sweet hug. Her hazel eyes dance with a light that punches Lily in the gut with its familiarity. "How wonderful to finally meet you."
"Likewise, Mrs Potter." She smiles, deliberately keeping her gaze trained away from James.
"Euphemia, please."
"Euphemia," she agrees easily, smile a little more genuine now. Then, she stretches out a hand to Fleamont. "Good to meet you too, Mr Potter."
"I'm afraid you'll have to call me Fleamont, too," he chuckles, grasping her hand between both of his for a warm shake. She takes in the messy, greying hair, the laughter lines around his eyes and mouth, the glasses sitting atop his nose, and breathes through another strange tug in her chest.
He's so much like the both of them.
"James has told us a lot about you," Euphemia says, eyes bright.
Lily's mouth parts; the thud behind her rib-cage loud. "Oh."
"Mum."
"—Sirius has too, of course."
The restraint it takes on her part, right then, to not look at James, to not try to decipher the expression on his face, is like a physical, tangible torment. She stomps down on the temptation, and instead, jokes weakly, "Nothing too bad, I hope."
"Quite the opposite, actually. In fact—"
"Mum, we're getting late! Movie starts in fifteen minutes," James rushes in, and God, she's grateful, because a further explanation of exactly what he'd said about her to his parents would only drive her mad; not to mention swiftly heat her skin up like she's been exposed to the blazing sun. "Besides, I'm sure MacDonald is tired, and that Evans has stuff she needs to get done."
The quiet dismissal stings a bit, but she makes herself nod, still turned away from him. "Yeah, I should—I should get started on work. I hope you enjoy the movie!"
Euphemia's stare transforms from pleased to confused to a little too knowing, all in the span of a single second, as she carefully registers the non-interaction happening between the two of them. Lily isn't all that surprised; her one conversation with the woman has been enough to glean that she possesses a keen sense of situations and people around her. But mercifully, Euphemia only nods, says her farewell pleasantly.
"Thank you, dear." Fleamont gives Lily a crinkle-eyed smile, and a bit of tension filters out of her chest at the warmth there. There's really no reason for her to expect any animosity from them, she realizes; no need for her to await their hatred. "We'll see you later again."
"Goodbye!" Mary calls from behind.
And apart from one last, silent, sweeping glance of hazel eyes on her, James doesn't give any other reaction as they depart from the hotel.
"Crikey, what the hell was that?!" breathes Mary, mouth hanging open as Lily turns around after a long pause. "You and Potter might as well have burned the room with all that strain and tension."
She shakes her head. "Don't know what you mean."
It's nearly ten-thirty at night by the time they return to the hotel.
Lily puts away her phone and stands up with a smile when she senses Euphemia's arrival at the desk. James and Fleamont appear to be strolling leisurely behind, hands full of shopping bags and identical laughter shining in their eyes as they engage in some conversation she's too far away to hear. It stirs something fluttery and affectionate in her chest to see him with that familiar happiness on his face. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it.
"Lily," Euphemia begins, voice quick and quiet, effectively pulling her attention back. "I wanted to thank you."
"Oh." She blinks. "For what?"
"For being a wonderful help to the hotel, and for taking care of my boys."
Warmth flows pleasantly over her limbs. "Oh, of course! It was my pleasure."
"And I want you to know…" Euphemia pauses, a soft something pulling at her expression. "That I'm happy for you and James. And that I understand."
Quite abruptly, those handful of words manage to choke off the oxygen in Lily's lungs. "I—um, I beg your pardon?"
"I had a feeling, when I called last time… but now that I've seen… well, there's no denying it—and it's quite alright with me, dear. You don't need to worry about any of this affecting your position here. Regardless of your relationship with my son, or anything that goes on in your personal life, your job is secure." Here, she chuckles a little. "But I do hope you'll forgive me for putting you on the spot when we spoke over the phone. That must have been uncomfortable for you."
Oh God.
What?
WHAT?
"There's um… there's nothing to forgive," Lily breathes, fingers numb against the counter, ears buzzing strangely. Fuck, she needs to sit down. "I think you're… there's… I mean, James and I aren't—we're just mates."
But Euphemia only smiles; smiles kindly enough for Lily's face to burn; smiles like she knows. Like she knows everything and all of it, and even though that's impossible, even though, by her own admission, James hasn't told her about them—or whatever is between them anyway—for a moment, it truly feels like she does know.
And that—
That all but tilts the very ground under her feet.
"Is my wife chatting your ears off, Lily?" Her head shoots up, almost startled to see Fleamont and James stood near the counter now, the former of the two sporting a loving smile as he looks down at Euphemia exasperatedly. The question is slow to slip into Lily's mind; the process of making sense of the words sluggish and unbelievably difficult.
"Alright, Evans?" This, from James. And she turns her head to find him staring at her with a concerned frown. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I—yeah," she shakes her head, now painfully aware of how all of them watch her with worried glances. "Sorry, was just lost in thought for a moment there. Hope you had a good time today."
"We did!" Euphemia grins. "And we're excited to meet Sirius once he's back tomorrow. Actually—" she shares a look with her husband, who nods encouragingly. "We were wondering if you might join us for dinner tomorrow."
"Me?" Lily chokes out.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck
"Yes, we'd love to have you! I can speak to Minerva so you can take the day off, if needed."
"Oh, no—that's not—that's alright, I was going to be on leave tomorrow, anyway." She stops, licks her lips. And finally, after having avoided looking at him as much as possible throughout the day, now, Lily allows her eyes to travel to James, to read his expression as he looks back at her. "It's just… are you sure? I don't want to intrude."
His gaze flits between her eyes, and she knows he knows the question is for him, really. "You won't be intruding."
"Perfect!" Euphemia beams. "It's settled, then. I'll let James text you the details, love."
Lily smiles weakly.
"Let's head upstairs now. Goodnight, Lily." Fleamont gives her a little wave.
"Goodnight."
James, much to her heart-pattering surprise, doesn't immediately follow after them. Instead, he turns to his parents, tilts his chin up slightly. "Go on, I'll be there in a bit."
Fleamont's mouth pulls up in a tiny smirk as he glances over his shoulder. "Alright, son."
Not wanting to dwell on that bit of reaction, Lily waits patiently for the couple to walk towards the elevators and disappear from view before she turns to look at James again. He still remains infuriatingly difficult to read; a blank, unfeeling veil pulled over his face even as his eyes rage an inferno of emotions. "Hey. Um—"
"Sorry about that," he cuts her off.
"Sorry?" Lily frowns. "For what?"
"The dinner. Mum's a bit too persistent sometimes."
"Well, you had to get it from somewhere," she teases lightly.
He cracks a smile for her efforts, and it really does feel like being awarded with a prize. "Don't know what you mean."
"Uh huh."
"But seriously, Evans—" An anxious run of fingers through his hair, "—if you're uncomfortable or you don't want to come, I can understand. You can tell her you're unwell, or you've got some other plans, and she'll back off, I promise. I can speak to her."
Lily chews on her lower lip, takes a moment to look at him carefully. Still nothing. Infuriating. "Do you—um, do you not want me to come?"
James blinks, mouth parting, eyebrows arching. His response falls in a low whisper. "It doesn't matter what I want."
"It matters a whole lot, actually. To me."
The honesty stuns him; she can see the surprise painted in broad strokes over his face now, and she thinks—yes, thank God, finally. She'll take a reaction. Any reaction. "Why?"
Her grip on the counter tightens. "Because I care about you, too. About what you think."
"No, why—" he presses forward, cheeks flushing slightly. "Why are you doing this? I thought you didn't want to… I mean—" A frustrated hand rubs over the back of his neck, something like a groan rumbling in his chest. "I'm trying really fucking hard here, Evans. But you do and say things like—like you're still… interested, or something. And I'm back there, hoping like a fool. But I can't keep doing this if you're just—"
"I'm not."
Confusion twists his mouth. "What?"
Lily inhales sharply, pulse alarming. "I'm not just anything. Earlier, I, uh, spoke to your mother. Well, she spoke to me, actually. And she said something that—that I think, is making me realize that I've been… making things difficult here; overthinking and worrying about this a bit too much. Maybe—like you said—it doesn't need to be so hard." Her gaze drops, throat trying to swallow past the fear of being vulnerable. It's okay. Breathe. "Then there's also the fact that—that I've been… bloody miserable these past two days. And I know I hurt you, too, and I'm sorry about that. I really am. I'm pretty fucking crap at dealing with this emotion business, but I'm learning how to get better. It's all just a bit… intense, yeah?"
Silence falls around them once she's done, the quiet persisting for long enough that she has to look up again, heart in mouth, lip between teeth.
"Lily," James whispers, and… fuck, his eyes—the way they hold hope, glow bright, could easily kill her. "What are you saying? Is this—?"
"Can we just…" She breathes deeply through her mouth, peers up at him from under her lashes. "…go for this dinner tomorrow, and see how things pan out from there? Only if you want me to come, of course."
He shifts on his feet silently, reaching out a hand to find hers on the counter. The brush of skin as he squeezes her fingers gently sends delicious warmth rushing down her spine, up her entire arm.
"Okay," he says, lips tilting up. "And Evans?" He tugs lightly when she makes to pull away her hand with a relieved nod. Lily stops, raises her brows, something mad happening behind her rib-cage as she catches the look in his eyes. "I'll never not want you around me, alright?"
She bites her lip, still unable to stop the grin from spilling. "Alright."
A/N - Hi guys!
I generally don't do this, but I was almost reluctant to post the chapter today so I figured it was affecting me enough that I had to share. I've been feeling a little bummed out this week because of some reviews and comments that a few people have been leaving on this story that are... not very helpful. While I'd usually ignore them or just vent to my close friends (and I already have for several), it's getting to a point where I'm losing the joy of posting chapters because I stupidly keep feeling like I'm doing a sloppy job at this fic. I haven't felt that way in an age, and I don't like it.
Please don't get me wrong, most of you are the loveliest, amazing, readers, and I am constantly blown away by how much appreciation this fic is getting, so THANK YOU!
But please, if you don't have anything nice to say, or you don't agree with characterizations, don't like what I'm doing with the story, don't trust me to give you a good ending, stop reading. And if you don't, if you still hate it, don't leave me reviews. That is all I ask.