Controlled Addiction
Growing up she was addicted to flying, jumping off swing sets, arms outstretched, praying the wind would lift her far, far away. Then she was losing herself in books, living other lives. Later, boys became the newest distraction, craving attention, until the addictions turned deadly.
From the moment he was born he's told he would do great things, that his future was bright. Ever since, he's been dangerously hurtling towards each next big thing. Somehow, the brightness blinded him, shadowing what was right in front of him.
Lily's running from her past, but trying desperately not to bump into her future. James' future surrounds him almost completely, as he fiercely keeps a hold on his present. It'll be a miracle if either makes it to christmas.
Chapter One: Hiding Place
She ran her fingers along the top of the door frame, stretching on her toes to be able to just reach. When she came in contact with the cool metal of the key the breath she'd been holding released and she stumbled backwards, righting herself before she slipped off the top step. It's not like she had any reason to be worried, Sirius had assured her the key was still there after last summer and she knew that his father would have killed him if had forgotten to put it back before he left. She turned the key, the satisfying click of the lock sending another small wave of relief through her veins. Pulling her bag in behind her, the door shut and she turned the lock again. She rested her back against the wood, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath, and another; tapping her fingers against her leg. She shook out her hand as she felt her phone buzz, with eyes stinging and throat dry she pulled it from her back pocket.
—
Sirius Black: Did you make it ok?
Lily Evans: Yeah. Just got in the door. Thanks for this.
Lily Evans: I appreciate you.
Sirius Black: Keep your head up— text me tomorrow? Say hi to Maria for me.
Lily Evans: She still likes me better, Siri. Always has, always will. Night.
—
She smiled at the gif he sent in return, a toddler stomping their foot with a frown, and shoved her phone back into her jeans. Toeing off her shoes at the door, she moved through the house towards the room she normally occupied. Passing through the kitchen, she wondered whether Sirius may have left any bottles of tequila around from last summer. Her eyes flickered to the cupboard above the fridge, almost changing course to check but instead, she made a mental note to ask Maria when she arrived tomorrow; and if there wasn't any, she could easily make the trip into the city centre to get some. The stone floor was cold under her feet despite the warm air that had settled around the city, coming with the stifling summer months. The lounges still had covers on them, windows and doors hidden behind thick curtains designed to keep the cool in and the heat out. In all the years she'd been coming here, she'd never felt the house as cold and quiet as it was now. She supposed that it was because normally when she made the trip, Sirius and his father had been here; her and her Dad always showing up a day or two after the others had already arrived. Her heart tightened, the sound of their laughter and smell of freshly made pasta, the distinct pop of a bottle of wine being opened flooded though her, clouding her head with childhood memories but before long, they faded into flashes of herself kneeling beside a toilet bowl or waking up in a cold sweat, and she shuddered. The last time she'd been here, last summer, her father had half dragged her—Shit, she thought. Charles' face pushed the memories away, the thought of him making her realise she'd left without telling anyone, although she assumed that Sirius' dad would probably tell him before long. Another glance at the empty kitchen, the half filled wine rack, and the deafening silence of the house made her suddenly regret not having Sirius come with her when he'd picked her up only hours ago.
The phone rang, and she bounced on her heels, willing him to pick up, "Hello?" His voice crackled through the line.
"Sirius?" She worked to keep her voice as steady as she could, but he knew her too well, for too long, to believe it.
"Lily. What's wrong?" He asked, concern seeping into his tone.
"Nothing, nothing," He grunted and she stumbled on her words, "Michael and I… we've had a row,"
"Right. You still at his? I'll come get you." Someone spoke in the background and she froze, filled with a sudden sense of being Sirius' burden; he was busy, and he didn't need her crying over her stupid boyfriend ruining it.
She tried to backtrack, "Oh no, Sirius, you're busy. It's fine. I was just—"
"Stop it, Lily. Stay put, I'm leaving now." He interrupted. She nodded, and agreed.
He pulled into the street within ten minutes of hanging up the phone, frowning at the bag in her hand. She climbed into the car and fell silent. It was barely half five in the evening, the summer break only started a week ago, and it already looked like it was doomed to be a dismal one for her.
"What happened?" Sirius had asked, poking her shoulder gently to try and get her attention. She shrugged him off.
"Same old, same old." She threw a glance towards him, noticing the crease between his brows. She continued, "I dunno. It just… I guess it's not been working for a while. We moved too quickly. Stupid to think it could be anything more then a fling really…"
Her voice trailed and it did nothing to alleviate his frown, "You want to come to mine for a few days? I'm sure the boys won't mind, plus Prongs is headed for Italy in a bit—"
"Is anyone at the Villa in Naples?" She asked, not listening to his England based solution at the mention of anywhere else.
"Um, no. I don't think so. Well, not yet but—" She fingered through her bag, praying she'd by some miracle thrown her passport when she'd last been home a few days ago. He raised an eyebrow at her, "What are you looking for?"
"Do you reckon your dad would mind if I went and stayed there for the summer?" She asked, pulling out the little book triumphantly.
"You want to go to Italy?"
"Yes. I need a break, and that's perfect. Sadly, Siri, Michael knows where you live and he'll show up— but he wouldn't expect me to go to the Villa… come to think of it, don't think I've ever mentioned I've been to Naples before, so he wouldn't even know… Do you reckon I could?" He watched her for a moment and she held his gaze. Eventually, his eyes darted back to the road and he shrugged, passing his phone to her. A surprised, and slightly concerned, Orion Black was more than agreeable to let Lily take up residence in his Italian home, confirming that he'd let Maria know she was coming. Lily thanked him, passing the phone back to Sirius just as they pulled up to his building. She didn't move to get out of the car, instead flicked through her phone to find a flight.
"Right, if I jump on the tube now, I can probably make the eight o'clock flight out of Heathrow." Sirius gapped at her, "What?"
"Shouldn't you just sleep on it? Look, just come upstairs, you can sleep in my room tonight, I can take the couch—" He moved to pull her bag out of the car. She tugged it back, shaking her head.
"I'm serious— don't," She pointed at him, warning him against making a joke but also smiling for the first time in hours, "but I am. I'll go now, be at the house before midnight and I'll wake up with a clearer head and space. I just need space."
He thought for a moment, "Okay, I'll go get a bag."
"What?" She grabbed his forearm as he made to get out the car, "No, Siri. Look, I love you for coming to get me, and for offering, but I think… I think I just need to be alone, you know." She relaxed her grip when he settled back into his seat, "Besides, you can't miss Marley's brother's wedding, she'll kill you if you don't show."
He laughed, the smile not quite reaching his eyes and she knew that he still worried for her. She turned her attention back to her phone. Sirius tapped at his own, pulling up the directions to Heathrow and turning back onto the road. When he made for the freeway she put her phone away, placed her hand on his shoulder again. Before long Sirius began to fill the silence with memories of their times at the Villa, settling her nerves with his talent for distractions and raising spirits. When he pulled into the drop-off lanes an hour later, he'd wrapped her into a tight hug and told her to be safe, to text him, and that he'd join her in a few weeks with Marlene, after the wedding of course, or the boys. She smiled at him, trying to keep the tears out of her eyes, and walked away.
The bedroom was as she'd left it. Doors to the small balcony also hidden behind curtains, the wardrobe doors sat ajar and the red comforter was folded at the bottom of her bed; where it sat for most of the summer. They'd been here almost a year ago but it seemed as if it was only last week when she'd hastily thrown her belongings into her case, having chosen to drink with some of the local kids they'd met in the city and forgo packing on their last night there. She smiled at the memory of her dad's disappointed look when she'd appeared the next morning, still in the previous night's clothes and positively drenched in tequila. She'd told him to pick his battles, and Charles had let it go. She dropped her bag and moved to push open the curtains, tying the heavy fabric at the edge of the windows but keeping the soft linen hanging loosely. It was dark, going on midnight now, and as she undid the latch of the doors, pushing them wide open, she took a deep breath of the sea air. She could taste the salt on her tongue, and she rolled the taste around her mouth, savouring it. If she hadn't just fought with Michael and effectively fled to Italy in the wake of it, she may have been more excited, been able to picture herself sitting out in the sun, a glass of wine in one hand and some cheesy romance book in the other. But, she had just fought with him and she had just fled the country because of it, and she knew that eventually, probably come morning, she'd have to deal with it all. For now, she pushed the thoughts of dealing with it like an adult aside, throwing her phone onto the pillows and peeling off her jeans. She threaded her arms through her bra and tossed it, along with her jeans, towards her bag. The soft linen curtains rippled in the breeze and she felt herself shiver as she slipped between the cool silk of the sheets. Her phone buzzed again. She wished she could melt into her mattress as she stared at the ceiling, wondering for a moment whether it would be possible to live without her phone, and whether it might just be better to simply throw it into the ocean… it buzzed again, and again. With the fourth message, she knew it wasn't Sirius, and groaned as she pulled it towards her. She didn't miss the small tremble of her hand as she unlocked it, the small group of messages expanding on the screen.
—
Michael Booker: Where are you?
Michael Booker: We had a row. Are you seriously just not coming back here?
Michael Booker: Please Lily.
Michael Booker: I'm sorry. It didn't mean anything.
—
She rolled her eyes. Of course, he would sprout any line that made him feel better about it all. Christ, she thought to herself, he's a dick Lily, get over it. Despite her best efforts, her eyes still stung as she stared at his name. The bubble indicating he was typing appeared and she flinched, almost throwing the phone across the bed as if that little bubble meant he could suddenly see her, Another buzz;
—
Michael Booker: Fine. Don't come back. This is your fault anyway, you drove me to it.
—
She turned her phone off, not bothering with an alarm.
—
Her body was hot, and not in the 'look at my arse in this skirt' kind of way but she felt as though she was slowly being cooked in some sort of blissfully comfortable oven. She rolled onto her back, stretching her arms through the sheets. Her mind was blurred, and for a moment she managed to forget the events from the past few days, enjoying the morning bliss of waking up as naturally as one could. She blinked in the sunlight that poured through the open doors, the sea air surrounding every one of her senses, and as she sat up, her body aching slightly at the movement, the events of yesterday flooded back to her.
She'd fled from her boyfriend to another country, only telling a total of two people, three if Maria was to be included, where she was. Her hands dived under the pillows, fingers pulling her phone from the depths of the bed. She waited for the screen to come back on, pushing the sheet off her and moving out into the morning air. A picture of herself and Marlene lit up her phone, it was 11am, still morning. She groaned as the notifications started to pour in. Three missed calls from her dad, all in the early hours of this morning and she could only assume that he had woken up and seen her hurried text from when she'd gotten in last night — Hi dad, everything's okay but just wanted to let you know that I'm in Naples, at the Villa. I okayed it with Orion, and Sirius took me to the airport. Michael and I broke up. I'll be back before the start of term in September, if not before. Talk soon. xx — and a reply text. The time was stamped at 9am so she could only assume the calm, collected text message was mostly on Orion's part, probably having sat his friend down and assured him that she was fine, and Sirius would never have let her come here if she'd been in any sort of danger; from herself more than anyone else. Her stomach still twisted though, so she tapped the call button.
"Lily?" The panic in his voice was unmissable, as was the unusually quick answer time for the middle of a work day.
She smiled, "Hi dad. I'm fine. I promise." She reassured him instantly, knowing he'd believe it more than she did at that moment.
"You ran off to Italy," She laughed and she could almost picture the lines on his forehead creasing, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes. Dad, I promise you, I'm okay." She tapped her fingers against her leg, "I just needed somewhere to cool off, you know, get some distance," tap, tap, tap, "…some perspective."
She could almost see him nodding, probably pacing in front of his office window, crease ever deepening in his forehead, and his voice was dripping with concern as he murmured, "Okay, well you let me know if you want me to come out there. I'm sure I can work from the house for a week or so, Orion can handle the fort here—"
"Not necessary. I'm gunna turn my phone off but I'll call you Saturday, to check in." She told him, the pads of her fingers pressing into the outside of her thighs.
"Okay, if you're sure, and Lily?"
"Yes?"
"I love you." He said, voice low and stern, like he wanted to ensure she knew he meant it.
"I know, Dad." She hesitated, "I'll talk to you Saturday. Bye." She pulled the phone from her ear before he could reply, cutting the line.
She rested her forearms against the railing as she filtered through the other notifications;
—
Michael Booker: I love you.
Michael Booker: I didn't mean too, it just happened.
—
Marlene McKinnon: Black just told me you fled to Italy? Who am I killing and where do you want the body buried?
Marlene McKinnon: …Bit jealous actually… wish I had a brother-like-figure that let me flee to his Italian villa any time I wanted to escape the country…
Marlene McKinnon: …oh wait, the brother-like-figure is my real life boyfriend so unsure why he's never taken me?! I'll be having words with him for sure.
Marlene McKinnon: Let me know you're okay. Just when you can, so I don't worry xx
—
Sirius Black: Call me when you wake up.
—
Instagram: Mikey_Books sent you a message.
Instagram: 00 requested to follow you.
Instagram: 00 wants to send you a message.
Instagram: mmoony, prongs_ and 12 others liked your photo.
—
That same overwhelming sense she'd felt last night to throw her phone into the ocean passed through her again and she flexed her fingers against the device, shaking one hand out beside her. She took a few deep breaths, eyes focused on the line where sea met sky, and she tapped her fingers on her leg, rhythmic and soothing.
She cleared most of the messages, making a note to get back to Marlene eventually; maybe tomorrow, after a shot or six of tequila and she was feeling strong enough to talk about it all. She switched to her favourites list, tapping Sirius' name at the top. She waited, the phone balancing on her palm with the ringer on speaker. She paced her breathing with the dull tones of the dial, her eyes settling on the horizon again, but the tone crackled and Sirius' short message played, a dull beep following. She sighed, not bothering with a voicemail he wouldn't ever listen to. She switched back to her messages.
—
Lily Evans to Sirius Black: Just woke up, sorry. Suns out, gunna make the most of it, and 'people' are blowing up my phone so I'm gunna switch off… Reckon you might be up for getting the rest of my stuff from Michael's flat? If not, it's fine. I'm sure Marlene would love to go round there, she's probably got a whole list of things she wants to yell at him. Give me 48 hours and I'll be back online, promise. I'll check in Saturday? Thanks again for this, Siri. Love you.
Lily Evans: Also, can you tell Marlene to chill out, that I'm fine… I don't hate her, coz I know she'll say I do, but I've no energy to make a big deal yet ya know…
—
The phone went black in her hand again. She turned back into her bedroom, tossing it into the sheets on her bed, and moved to inspect what exactly she'd thrown into her bag. A dress (one she wasn't particularly fond of), two pairs of shorts, a handful of shirts, a bra or two, and (thank god, she thinks) more than a few pairs of underwear. In spite of her sullen mood when the images of piling her things into a bag flashes in her head, she laughs at herself for remembering to take what seemed to be all of the underwear she'd left at his place… including her good stuff. Grateful at least to have made it out with her laptop, pre-reading, and passport, as well as the small stash of clothes, she pulled a pair of denim shorts and t-shirt towards her.
Two coffees, a fresh pastry, and a few hours spent re-familiarising herself with the city later, Lily pulled back the heavy curtains from the living room windows. The late afternoon sun flooded in, drowning the room in warmth. She pulled back the second set of curtains covering the terrace doors, throwing them open before shaking the sheets off the sofa, folding them neatly to put them on the dining table. Her phone still switched off and buried within the sheets on her bed, she combed through the CD's that were scattered in the bottom of one of the coffee table draws. Settling for a blank disc with a few scrawny words, summer vibes, written in what she knew was Sirius' messy hand, she sat back on her heels. The opening bars to something she could only guess was an indie band played. She could vaguely remember the melody and was sure that it had been one of their overplayed songs a few summers back, but for now she revelled in the sense of calm that had filtered through her body as the music filled the quiet villa.
Sometime during the second run of the songs burned into the disc, Maria turned up. The turn of the lock, the click of heels on stone as she approached, and the name called in greeting was lost in the music that reverberated off the walls. Lily was lying on the living room floor; pillow under neck, tequila bottle at her fingertips, mascara running tracks down her cheeks.
Her eyes snapped open when the volume dropped, "Oi!" She lifted herself to rest on her elbows, "I was listening to that, thank you very much."
"Cioa, Lily." Maria smiled softly at her, eyes flicking between the bottle in her hand and her face.
"Maria," She lifted the bottle in greeting, "Good to see you."
"It's barely six, Lily, and you're drunk." Maria moved swiftly, snatching the bottle from Lily's loose fingertips and, swiping the lid from the floor from where Lily had flicked it earlier, she replaced the bottle in the top cupboard.
"Well, that was rude," Lily tried to lift herself further off the ground, only to fail and fall back onto the pillow. She grunted with impact, eyes shutting again as the room spun in front of her, "I was drinking that, I'll have you know. Almost all done too, a shame. Could've been a personal best…"
Maria was moving through the kitchen, packing away groceries, most likely requested by Orion, or perhaps even her father, to be brought to the house. She groaned from her spot on the floor, throwing an arm across her face.
"Lily?" Maria repeated, "Can I make you something to eat?"
Another groan, about the only sound she could summon at this point, was given in response. Maria evidently took it as yes, because not fifteen minutes later Lily was being pulled gently from the floor and led to the couch. She curled into the corner cushions hoping desperately that she would completely disappear into them. Maria pushed a bowl into her hands filled with pesto pasta. Lily smiled.
"Orion said something about a boyfriend—" Maria sat at Lily's feet, placing a calming hand on her leg. Maria had been looking after the property in Italy for as long as she'd been coming here, longer, and there was more than a good chance that she knew Lily better than her own father at times.
Lily shook her head, alcohol swirling in her stomach at the mention of him, "It doesn't matter. Silly to even cry over it." Her voice was quiet, somber, and she tightened her grip on the bowl in her hands, trying to stop them from shaking.
Maria stared at her concern (the same look Sirius had given her in the car only 24 hours ago) written into her features. "I guess I just worried when he called." She tightened her fingers on Lily's calf, "After last summer, how you looked when you turned up, that awful place you'd been to…" Lily squirmed, head spinning again, memories of fluorescent lighting and uncomfortable restraints flashing in quick succession, like a highlights reel she didn't want to see, "Nevermind. You look, well, healthy at least. Despite the drinking… Eat. Then shower, and bed. I'll be back tomorrow morning to set the guest room, and Sirius said the bike needed—"
Although she nodded, taking another mouthful of the food as instructed, she didn't find herself taking in anything else that Maria had to say; her energy spent on keeping the two thirds of a bottle of tequila and the few mouthfuls of pasta in her stomach. The bowl of pasta abandoned, she wouldn't be able to recall anything Maria told her during their conversation tomorrow, and she wasn't really sure how she managed to get herself into the shower either. But, she had. She slipped between her sheets, hair wet and sticking to her shoulders, deciding to forgo wearing one of the t-shirts she'd packed to bed. Her skin felt hot. She was unsure whether it was because of the summer heat or the tequila but as her face hit the cool fabric of her pillow and her bare chest relaxed into the sheets, she felt herself slipping from consciousness. Vaguely, in the back of her blurred mind, she made a note to go and buy pyjamas at some point, adding it to the long list of things she didn't manage to pack for herself. Lily was only half conscious when Maria entered the room, pulling the heavier set of curtains across her doors, blocking the light. She set a glass of water, a few tablets of panadol, and a bucket next to the bed. She closed the door softly behind her as Lily fell deeper into sleep.
—
The breeze had pushed the curtains apart enough that a sliver of sunlight broke across her face. She turned, head pounding and body stiff, as she tried to avoid the light. Her hair was soft, although knotted, against her dry skin. Another thing she had to add to her list. She sat up slowly, letting the sheet fall freely. She made to pull it back across her chest but paused; she was alone so what did it matter.
Her legs shook as she moved them carefully over the side of the bed, hands pressing into the mattress to steady herself. She eyed the painkillers left for her, a moment of hesitation before downing them with water. Still, she sent a silent prayer to Maria for leaving the water and panadol as she knew her head would thank her for it later. While she waited for the water to settle in her stomach, she stretched out her neck. Moving first to throw open her curtains, she grimaced slightly at the new brightness pouring in. Yesterday had been so blurry, from alcohol and from tears alike, that she'd forgotten to really appreciate her sanctuary. The small balcony off her room was big enough for a single lounge chair, often used for escaping Sirius' wild adventures for time with a book in their youth, and the vines that curled up the side of the house covered the railing. On the clearest of days, you could see the small island across the Tyrrhenian sea that stretched along Italy's coast line. If she leant over the balcony, the pool below came into view and she knew that when feeling brave enough her balcony made the perfect diving platform.
Her arms stretched over her head, fingers flexing and the knots in her shoulder aching. Again, she moved to maybe slip on a dress but decided against it. She padded towards the bathroom, pulling her toothbrush from the holder. The water ran as she went about the makeshift skin routine, noting a few new items that she'd have to get from the market at some point. She pulled open one of the draws, pausing when she noticed a black bag sitting neatly on the far side of the double sink counter. She stared at it, wondering where it had come from because she was sure it hadn't been there last night. Shaking her head, deciding that it was probably left from last summer, she pulled the deodorant can from the draw and then her brush. Her toothbrush hung loosely from her mouth as she raked through the knotted waves of her hair. When satisfied she got them all, she cleaned out her mouth and considered herself in the mirror. A bruise was forming on the lower half of her back, another on her upper arm. Her fingers brushed over them softly. She adjusted her underwear to sit over the scar that ran the length of her hip. Her fingers ran through her hair, smoothing it down. She pulled at the ends, twisting them up into the nape of her neck, trying to decide whether she'd look any good if she was to cut it short. Head tilted, she examined the girl staring back at her. The stare became too much, so Lily dropped her hair, letting it fall over shoulders and moved towards the stairs. Her fingers ran along the walls of the hallway, and when she reached Sirius' bedroom she pushed the door open.
It smelt like him, and she gagged slightly at the district taste of whiskey in the stifled air. Gross. His wardrobe doors, like hers, were ajar and she wrenched them open to find a few button down dress shirts left hanging in the wardrobe. Deciding it was easier than having to get completely dressed, something she was determined could wait until she'd promised to rejoin the real world tomorrow, she slipped her arms through the shirt. She refrained from threading the buttons together but rolled the long sleeves up her forearms. This way, she thought, if Maria did come by she wouldn't be completely naked. Not that she really cared. Maria was like her… well, she'd seen it all before anyway.
As she pulled Sirius' door shut again, she noticed the guest bedroom one had been thrown open. She could see that the curtains tied back and a gentle breeze flowed through the open window. The bed was made up with fresh sheets, comforter folded at the bottom just as it had been on hers. Odd, Lily thought. She shook her head, vaguely remembering Maria saying something about changing sheets in the guest room. She must have come by this morning while Lily was still sleeping. Her suspicions were confirmed when she made it down to the kitchen. A bag of fresh pastries and Sirius' motorbike keys were sitting on the counter, along with a note signed 'M x' tacked to a paper bag. She peeked inside, and smiled as she pulled out a face wash and bottle of coconut sunscreen, along with a few other self care products Lily had failed to bring with her. Thank Christ for Maria, she thought.
She restarted the music that had been her drinking companion yesterday, but instead of reaching for the bottle of tequila (positive she might throw up if she even looked at alcohol), she pulled eggs and some bacon from the fridge. She flicked on the coffee machine to warm up as she took a pan from the draw, and she set to cooking herself the first decent and probably much needed meal in days.
If she'd been paying attention, if she hadn't been so absolutely sure she was alone, she may have noticed the sweaty, shirtless boy that had just ran up the steps onto the terrace. Lily danced around the kitchen, cracking eggs over the now hot pan and turning over sizzling bacon. She popped a fresh pod in the coffee machine and as she turned, the open shirt rippled away from her body, air passing between the fabric and her skin.
The song finished, and in the seconds of silence between one track and another, Lily heard a soft grunt, "Christ…Fuck."
Her eyes shot up to the open doors, spatula slipping from her hand onto the counter, as she met the hard gaze of James Potter. In her shock, she froze, eyes moving down his body; when the hell did he get fit?!
Their eyes met again, and something in his stupefied look reminded her that she was pretty much naked… standing in the middle of the kitchen, naked. She ducked, sliding her back down the island counters that hid her from his view. This would be the perfect moment for the world to open and swallow me whole, she thought.
She started threading the buttons on her shirt, eyes clenched tightly closed. She took a deep breathe, trying to steady herself, and to calm the unwarranted voltage passing through her veins at the sight of him… sweaty, and bare chested, and toned, and tanned… and she called out, "What the fuck are you doing here?"