Disclaimer: See first chapter.
Kiss
Chapter VII- Revelations
-x-
I think I'm in… love. It's crazy, the whole thought, but… I think that's what it really is. The thing is, he's James Potter and I'm Lily Evans and nothing ever works out when it's the two of us. It's foreign, insane, and completely wrong. Sometimes, I feel like I'm facing everything by myself with nothing but tears and a fake smile. But, when I'm around James, it feels different. It feels happy.
I've never really felt like that. Like the whole world is there, yours in that special way only the world can be. But… I think I've ruined our trust. Our hopes. Our chances. All he wanted to do was love me. But I was too afraid to let him. I screamed. I fought. I was a bundle of negative, sarcastic energy, with raging hormones she tried to ignore.
I know, I know, there's still a chance. There always is. But, I don't want to come off as needy, desperate. Pass it off as whatever you like, but I don't want our relationship (if it'll ever happen) to be based on pity, and pity alone. He's too perfect for that. He's… just so brilliant, sometimes, with his uncanny way of knowing exactly what's on your mind.
He's like something out of a paperback novel. People like him don't exist. Not in reality, anyways.
.xx.
The inkwell flew across the room, shattering against the wall at the impact and staining the pretty cream wallpaper. Lily honestly didn't care about the striped wallpaper, though it would haunt her mind later. Her chest heaved and her legs were firmly planted apart.
James Potter was staring at her, eyes wide behind his glasses. In one hand, he held his bag limply and in another was a can of butterbeer. He was frozen, though he had ducked the flying projectile that had been lobbed at him.
"Oh, Christ, James I'm so sorry!" Lily cried when she realized that she had almost knocked his skull in. She rushed up to him and gave him a quick squeeze, trying to calm her racing heart. "I thought you were someone sneaking in! Oh Merlin, I must look like a right fool!"
James laughed. "No, not really, more like a frazzled Head Girl that had been scared out of her mind. It serves me right for sneaking in a three in the morning."
Lily smiled softly, but inside she felt more than guilty. He was acting so nicely to her, and he couldn't even walk by without being attacked. "Where were you, anyways?"
James shrugged, suddenly looking awkward. "I was with my girlfriend."
Lily glanced at him, at a loss for words, before remembering that he had no girlfriend. "James, you dumped Allison Carver last month, didn't you?"
He looked away. "Er, it's not Ally; we did break up. It's that Hufflepuff, Natasha, you know, the Prefect?"
"Yeah, I think."
James seemed to be relieved that such a girl existed, but Lily didn't mention anything. Instead, she ducked her head down and surveyed her nails idly, chipping at the newly applied polish quietly.
"So…" James trailed off, looking at her.
Lily smiled, trying to appear calmer than she felt inside. She wanted to kiss him again, she wanted to be reassured that he'd never leave her, always love her. At the same time, she doubted he'd want to be with her. There were so many other girls around, so much prettier and smarter and better…
"Look, I'm going to bed." James finally said, breaking the silence.
Last chance, Evans… Just tell him… tell him…
"Wait! Potter, wait for a moment," She said, breaking out of her reverie and striding across the room.
"Er... yes?"
Capturing his big hands in hers, she looked. Really looked, the kind where your sight is straining to see something not often displayed publicly. And she saw it.
In his eyes the colour of chocolate and chestnuts and gold, there was something else; anger, frustration, pity, laughter… love. She had been so scared, so apprehensive, when everything that she needed to know was right in front of her.
He loved her.
A choked sob escaped from her lips before she could stop it. Relief. She was filled with immense relief. She loved him and he loved her. And somehow, that made it perfect.
It didn't matter that her name was Lily Evans and she liked Sugar Quills better than Chocolate Frogs and that she had more than fifty freckles on her face. No, it honestly didn't. All that mattered, at this exact moment was how James Potter was looking at her, and seemingly looking through her and reading her mind.
"Lily?"
She leant up, pulling him down to her height with a jerk on his tie, and captured his face in-between her small hands. He stared back, not pulling away, not trying to get out of her grip. There it was again. Love.
It came closer, and she pressed against him, kissing him with every ounce of spirit inside of her, and some that she had borrowed. She searched, hunted for, the passion that she knew licked at her own heart with dangerous flames, inside of him. It was like kissing him for the first time.
Somehow, now that she knew he matched her in adoration, it seemed so much more… real, close. There were no words to explain it, when he pulled her down to the sofa and snogged like it was going out of style. His hands were still entwined with hers, and she sighed against his mouth, her breath being stolen away.
Then, as if he were regaining his senses back, James pulled away, eyes so wide they appeared as hazel-brown moons. "Why'd you kiss me, again?" He demanded, his eyes darkened with hurt.
Why?
"B-but, James! I finally get it! I lo-" Lily said excitedly, waving her arms around with an untainted happiness.
He didn't appear as pleased as she did. Instead, he gave her a rueful look and interrupted her declaration, "Lily, everytime I kiss you, you push away. You've told me once; you've told me twice, you don't like me. I get it."
What? "Wait!" Lily said, pulling at his arm unhappily. He ignored it, standing up and giving her one last disappointed look.
"I thought you were worth it, Lily. I guess you proved me wrong." He said, eyes portraying exactly how betrayed he felt. Lily's heart plummeted to the depths of her stomach when he looked at her like that. She loved him!
He walked away, crawling through the portrait hole without a second look behind him.
And she was left there, one thing running through her mind.
Was it enough?
.xx.
Her steps were slow and dragged along the flight of stairs as she climbed the staircase to her dorm room. She desperately didn't want to go up. Not to her wide-eyed, gossiping friend who twisted everything and anything… even though she was the closest and often best person to be around…
She didn't want to talk about it.
Elladora didn't understand privacy. She grew up in a big, pureblood family with siblings barging into her room every few minutes and eccentric, mordant parents that were increasingly growing acrimonious with age.
The door seemed to loom in front of her as Lily looked up at it, gulping down anxiety. She swung it open, eyes widening slightly as the light flashed into her vision and the chatter of teenage girl's met her ears.
She liked her dorm mates; they were quite nice at times, like Isabelle with her dark looks and position on the Quidditch team and Roxanne with her wavy hair and bright laughter. All three, except for the strange little girl with the bed in the corner who never appeared, were crowded around Lily's bed, giggling and whispering and staring at something.
"Hello there," Lily said, letting a breath of air escape from between her gritted teeth, "what're you all looking at?"
Elladora, always the first to notice, looked up, eyes shining. "Lily! You've got a secret admirer!"
"…what?"
Suddenly, Roxanne interrupted, even though she was usually quite shy and awkward. "Oh, Lily, it looks so gorgeous! You're dreadfully lucky." She sighed.
Lily felt a bit confused, and turned to her other dorm mate, even though they had barely exchanged anything but minimal pleasantries for the last six years. "What're they nattering about?"
Isabelle rolled her eyes. In her trademark husky, almost masculine voice she replied calmly, "You got a present. And the note isn't signed, naturally leading to the conclusion that you have an admirer."
"Ah." Lily glanced at the box that was lying open on top of her patched quilt and tried to identify what the small bundle of shiny fabric was. Beside it, an unravelled note was teetering on the edge of the bed and a small plastic bag tied with a bow lay at the foot of it. "So… what is it?"
Elladora, eager to catch the attention of her best friend, broke in, "A dress. It's simply marvellous, all shiny and green and sparkly. It's even in you size!"
Lily took a step closer, realization hitting her straight on. But... who? More importantly, why would they do it? Nestled in white wrapping paper and glitter lay the Dress. The one with a swirly skirt and tight bodice and that lovely dark green that complemented her eyes and hair and skin that she had seen in that tiny dress shop in Hogsmeade. The dress that cost way too much for her to purchase it.
The dress no one knew about. And, suddenly, it was in her hands and she could feel how silky and new it felt between her fingers. She traced the curve of where the fabric would stretch over her hips and the small, barely visible seams that had been so obviously sewed by magic and a steady hand.
Then she remembered.
James.
James Potter.
James Potter, who had smiled and teased her and asked her why she wasn't buying such a pretty dress. And how he looked at her when she said it was too expensive and how she thought it was lovely as well. James, the one who loved her and loved pleasing her in every way.
Oh shit.
Suddenly, it became too much for her to bear. Dropping the gown onto the ground, she turned and ran. Lily didn't know where she was running to, and she didn't care. She just needed to get away from herself. From all the things that were supposed to be right, but weren't. She needed to escape from her failure at perfection.
Was it two corridors or five? All she knew was that there was a stitch in her side and breathing was becoming exceedingly hard. She collapsed to the floor, trying to catch her breath as she pressed her forehead against the cool wall of the castle. Her legs hurt.
Oh, why was everything so wrong? James… beautiful James with his dizzy eyes and lopsided smirk that cared. He loved her, wanted her, but thought she was a tart, a user. Guilt wasn't something anyone liked to feel, and it was tearing her apart. She wanted to make things better, she craved it, but she was so angry, so empty. She wanted to be perfect, but it wasn't like that.
Why was reality so harsh?
She heard the footsteps before she saw the scuffed, black shoes. Stiffening, she gradually crawled alongside the wall, stifling her breathing with the collar of her shirt. But before she could escape, his shoes were there. Oh, and his lovely pant legs, but she couldn't really think about how he looked when he was so close to him.
"Lily." It was short and curt.
"James." Her reply was equally cold and clipped.
"I'm sorry for what I said."
"I know." She didn't know, but it seemed like the right thing you said to someone you loved so desperately that it ached inside of every crevice of your soul. Could he forgive her? Love her? Then she told him, she needed to. "I love you."
He looked angry, furious. "I don't know if I love you anymore."
No. No. No. Please, God, anything but this. "You bought me the dress, I know you did. Don't lie."
"I won't. I bought you the dress. It doesn't mean I love you, though."
She let a dry sob escape her lips, it was a pathetic noise, but she really wanted to cry. Anger, frustration was overwhelming her and she broke in a way she didn't know was possible. "I want to be that girl you point to and say 'That's her'," Lily shouted. "Don't you get it? I bloody love you! I want to be the only hand you'll ever need to hold! I want all those corny, sappy couple things that I used to poke fun of! I need you, don't you see?"
She turned, not wanted to see those dizzy hazel eyes and hear his words. She wanted to cry, and hell, she deserved it after today. Ducking and dodging everything, and shoving as many things as she could, she collapsed into the Common Room, sobbing inaudibly. Everyone turned to look at her. She glared back.
She couldn't go back to her room, after breaking into a fit and running off. There would be too many questions that she didn't feel were ready to be answered. There was only one thing left. James. James' lovely room that she never seen before, with his divinely his bed that probably smelt just like him was where she could hide.
When she finished the thought, she was already half-way up the staircase and facing the room's heavy, cherry-wood door. Now or never, Evans. Do it now. She walked in, sustaining her breath and holding back tears for later.
Lily stared around the room with wide eyes, running her hands over the mussed bed sheets, strewn clothing and Quidditch posters absent-mindedly. Everything seemed so James, so him, that she didn't even need to ask if this were his bed, she knew. Not to mention it smelt wonderfully like James.
She tossed a Quidditch magazine off the bed and buried her face in his pillow, breathing in the musky, soap-scented James scent. Quietly, she slid under the red embroidered covers, curling under it happily, and let her mind drift.
She remembered how his lips felt against hers, the soft pressure, the warmth, the love. He was right for her; it had felt so wholesome and delicious, as if she were indulging in chocolate after being on a strict diet for weeks. It was the way his hands caressed her face after, his deep eyes looking into hers and the strange tingling feeling that went through her veins. The way his hair felt between her fingertips. His warm, strong chest and the way it felt against her heaving breasts. Everything about him drew her crazy, she laughed, and that had to be love.
He had to be the right one.
But, would he take her? She chased away the lonely thoughts after a moment of reflection, returning to a more hopeful outlook.
Lily ran a hand under his pillow languidly, shivering in glee at the cool texture that slid underneath her fingers. She wrinkled her forehead in confusion when her hand met a smooth, leathery object. She pulled it out, only hesitating slightly. The words James Potter were inscribed on the cover, the smooth gold letters looking up mockingly at her. James kept a diary?
Lily couldn't help it, her curious nature took over and she flipped open to the first page. She would only indulge in the first entry. There was only one and it was dated back yesterday evening.
Before her eyes a story unfolded, and as she developed further into his writings, she smiled.
I used to think you could pretty much divide people into two categories: those who believe in love at first sight and those who don't. I was a proud member of the second category. I used to think you fell in love with your brain…Um, that came out wrong. Let me rephrase. I used to think your brain was in use when you fell in love.
Then I met Lily Evans. Every time I've ever had anything to do with Lily, my brain has said, shit, this girl is nothing but pain, misery and trouble. And in this case my brain was completely right. But in spite of my brain's lack of cooperation, I've fallen in love with her. It happened the first time I ever saw her. It was a clap of thunder, a bolt of lightening, a monsoon. All of those cheesy metaphors I never believed before (although there was actually a monsoon going on at the time). There is no good reason for me to love Lily. There are only good reasons against it. Every day I struggle to release myself from it. Every day I try to convince myself that it will go away.
So anyway, I guess you could say my brain is sticking with the second category, claiming that no, there is no such thing as love at first sight. My heart betrayed it in favour of the first category, arguing, yes, absolutely, it's the only kind of love there is. And now my brain and my heart aren't even on speaking terms anymore.
When I said "divide people", that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I told my friend Sirius about this theory, and he told me also had a theory for how to divide people: those who divide people and those who don't.
She ran a shaking finger over the ink-stained page, feeling her knees weaken as she reread the words, over and over again, trying to make sense of what she had just read.
He loved her. Even though he said he didn't. There was still hope. He bought her dresses and kissed her on the lips. He cared. With a self-assured smile, a soft pleased one, she rose, softly shutting the leather book. She needed him; she needed for him to assure her. Then, with one final sigh, Lily left the room, in search of a much loved Mr. Potter. That stupid, foolish, brave and arrogant dark-haired youth that made her heart beat with a clarity she had never known to exist.
James seemed to be the only guy that ever understood her- who would ever understand her.
And she was quite happy with that fact, thank-you-very-much.
Now…
How the hell was she going to get him back?
..x..
I think this is going to be the second last chapter, or the third. Depending on how everything pans out. Thanks for all your support, hope you stick around!
Ria.