Llef ylil yhw -By Yo-yo

Disclaimer: C chappie #1.

Chapter 12- Painting Lesson:

"I learned the truth at seventeen . . . that love was meant for beauty queens . . ."

The record softly sang in the background as she snuggled deeper in the mass of pillows and blankets she'd cocooned herself in. She had conjured a bright blue fire and placed it near her feet, keeping the biting cold from nipping at her toes.

For the past two nights, instead of staying in the dormitory where she was sure to run into Sunny and Fly who'd been avoiding her and Skye and James who seemed to have been attached at the hip, she had opted for sleeping beneath the winking stars on the highest Astronomy tower. The idea seemed ideal at first, until the crisp fall air wrapped around her body and chilled her insides- hence the mass of blankets and pillows.

In their classes she'd avoided them by sitting next to Ed and after classes she spent her time in the library or the perfects' bathroom swimming.

Sighing softly, she watched as her warm breath rose in the cold air mingling and disappearing into wisps. As she watched the pieces of her essence float away she returned her gaze to the loopy script of her mother on purple scented stationary.

Her parents had sent her the letter by owl post that morning, and she'd waited all day to open it, afraid of what its contents might reveal.

She ran her trembling fingers over her mother's girlish handwriting, picturing her Susan Evans writing the letter. She imagined her leaning over the letter, her long brown hair gently brushing the paper and her lips gently chewing on the pen, leaving small smears of her lipstick. Her black eyes would twinkle animatedly as she thought of something to say and her lips would curve into that beautiful smile. And her long, beautiful fingers curled over the pen, as they did over a piano, soft and delicate as she placed her thoughts into words, thinking of her youngest daughter.

Slowly unfurling the letter, she wished she were at home, in both her parents arms, relaying to them about her friends and how she felt when they abandoned her. With a lump in her throat and tears threatening to escape her tear ducts, she read:

Dear Lillian,

We've not heard from you in many days, are you ok, Sweety?

Your father and I were discussing the Winter Holidays and came up with a great idea! We'd like to invite all your friends (Sunny, Delia, Moony, James, Sirius, and Peter and their families) to spend an informal Muggle Christmas at our house! We'll have pizza, chips and dip . . . everything so that we can eat with our hands. We'll invite Douggie from across the street . . . We'll sing carols, watch movies and exchange presents, it'll be fantastic! It'll be the perfect time for us to meet your friends and their families, and for them to get a taste of Muggle life and not look at us as ignorant beings.

But along with the magic of this holiday party, there's also some compromise. When we posed the idea to your sister, she was against it. We had several conversations about it, and in the end we decided she could spend the holiday with some of her friends so she wouldn't have to feel uncomfortable in her own home. I told her to write you a letter, I'm not sure if you've received it yet, but although we'd rather her spend Christmas with us, we'll respect her decision.

So, would you please ask your friends please, and we can't wait to see you home!

With Love,
Your darling parents Aaron and Susan Evans XOXOXO

Pushing back her curls, a flood of tears erupted, and she lay back and dropped the letter from her hands. Her Mum wanted to invite her friends . . . the friends she wasn't sure she had anymore.

~***~

When she woke up, she found a gently sprinkling of snow dusting everything around her. Her head pounded as she noticed the soaked letter with washy ink stains on the bleeding purple paper.

Glancing at her wrist, she decided it was time to get ready for class and climbed out of the warm cocoon, shivering in the morning air.

~***~

"Good morning Lily," Sunny tried as Lily trudged into the dormitory, heading to her made bed and grabbing some clothes and her toiletries.

Lily inaudibly grumbled back and exited the room, getting ready for class. When she returned, Sunny was gone, as were her other three room mates.

Stumbling down the staircase, she entered the Great hall, grabbed a muffin and a few strips of bacon and exited, heading straight for her first class.

~***~

"Was that Lily?" James asked watching the retreating back stumble out of the room.

"Yeah," Fly nodded with knitted brows, gazing at her broken friend.

"What's with her?" Peter asked, glancing at James before following their gazes.

"She doesn't hang out with us anymore. She doesn't even attempt to speak to us. This morning she just groaned and left the room." Sunny frowned, her eyes darkening with tears.

"Don't cry now," Sirius frowned, grabbing her by the shoulders. "We've got to speak to her. She doesn't even look at us anymore, did something happen?"

"No." Sunny and Fly shook their heads.

"Maybe." James replied simultaneously.

"Maybe?" everyone else asked, looking at him curiously.

"That night, well, three nights ago . . . the night after the leaf fight, well she was coming back late into the dormitory and she found Skye and me on the couch-"

"Making out?" Sunny asked, her eyes darkening for another reason.

"No! No . . . just talking," he held up his hands, as if revealing his innocence. "But she freaked out. We tried to explain, but she ran away. And when she came back out of her dorm, she just hurtled out like a bat out of hell! I think she got the wrong idea."

"You think?!" Sunny groaned, looking at him.

"Don't get upset, it's not my fault."

"She thinks we're replacing her with Skye. I mean, we have been hanging out with her a lot." Remus concluded.

"Correction, James has been hanging out with her a lot. We're just trying to include her so she doesn't feel like an outsider." Sirius stated.

"Why have you been hanging out with her?" Fly asked, taking off her glasses.

"She's easy to talk to." He shrugged.

"And easy on the eyes too." Sirius grinned.

"That's my sister you're talking about," Sunny frowned, punching him in the arm.

"Do you like her?" Pete asked, taking a bite of bacon.

"Look guys, when I figure out how I feel about Skye, you'll be the first to know. But as for now, back off. You're applying a lot of unneeded pressure."

"Are you trying to make Lily jealous?" Remus asked.

"No!"

"Because that would be a really cruel joke on both girls." Sirius said seriously.

"And we would so beat your ass!" Fly growled.

"So, we need to talk to her," Sunny said.

"When?"

"As soon as possible. The look in her eyes as of lately makes me sad."

~***~

They stared into one another's eyes, determined frowns on one another's faces.

He'd dressed to accommodate her. For the last couple of weeks she'd insisted on him wearing his grungiest clothes, that way he wouldn't have to worry about getting messy.

Tonight, he'd finally relented and had shrugged on a gray t-shirt with faded print and tattered jeans that he usually wore to Quiddich practice.

Ruffling back his black locks, he looked back at her. She wasn't dressed-up either. She was wearing a ¾ length yellow t-shirt and splattered overalls. Her hair was pulled into two plaits at the side of her head, with a handkerchief tying her curls away from her face. She wore no make-up as she grinned at him, a plastic jar in her hands.

"Ok, let's start."

Handing him a brush and a palette, Skye smiled as she faced the empty canvass.

"Paint what you feel."

"What if I don't know what I feel?"

"Then paint the indifference, the confusion, the vulnerability."

"And how do I paint that?"

"I don't know, you just got to put it on the canvass, and display to me what you feel."

"What if I'm bad at it?"

"You're good at everything you do, so what can make this any different?"

"The fact that my pre-school teacher couldn't understand my finger- painting."

"I don't think any pre-school teacher can understand any kids finger- painting. It's just an exercise they use when they need a fag break." [A/N: fag meaning cigarette]

"Ok."

He grabbed the brush from her hands and approached the canvass with apprehension. He'd never done something like this before. He'd never put onto canvass what he felt deep within. Hell, he'd never put into words those feelings that dwelled deep within him.

He pressed a tube of red paint onto the palette and smeared it onto the brush. With hesitance, he swiped the paint across the canvass, thus, letting go the first of his soul.

With a burst of inspiration, he dipped his brush into purple, and soon an image began to appear beneath his fingers, coating the blank canvass in unbridled, raw emotion.

"It was beautiful," she grinned slouching down into the overstuffed couch as she stared into the paint splattered picture.

"What was beautiful, the tasty view of my ass you gazed at all night?" he chuckled, his breathing labored as he finally sat down, exhausted.

She raised a brow,

"That too, but watching you paint." She shrugged. "The way your arms moved, and your back clenched, and your body erupted in an emotional trance. It was like poetry never written on paper. A song never sung from the soul. A photograph never captured on film."

"How do you do that?" he exclaimed, turning to face her.

"How do I do what?"

"Turn everything you do to a work of art. You talk in stanzas, think in paintings, feel with song. You aren't like anyone I've ever met. You're so different . . . so unaffected . . . so new."

"Awww," she sang, batting her eyelashes playfully, "Jamsie is getting all girly. I so have blackmail on you!"

"Hey," he groaned, a small smile betraying him. "I'm trying to be sentimental and thoughtful here and you're raining on my parade!"

"Without confetti and fireworks, it isn't a parade."

"Well, I could whip up some confetti and fireworks, but I supposed those that are asleep wouldn't enjoy it too well."

"Which is why you don't attempt it, Marauder." She poked him in the chest.

It was at the moment when Lily slipped into the common room, undetected by the two on the davenport.

When she spotted them sitting there, totally enveloped in themselves, her body paralyzed and her eyes couldn't help see the intimacy that surrounded them. The way that their fingers touched, instantly, only lingering for a second as if torn between their want to hold one another, and their need to pull apart. The way that their eyes twinkled, just for one another. The way that they smiled, their lips parted, and their laughs were careless . . .

Pushing her orange curls from her face, as stealthily as she could, she made her way to the dormitory doors, trying to ignore the sound of Skye's giggles.

When she returned, she had escaped the door just as Skye and James had leaned closer and brushed their lips against one another.

Tears welled in her eyes as she watched them . . . she would never have that.

TBC . . .

A/N: Sorry to take so long, I keep contemplating a new story, but I keep thinking that there are not that many hours in a day and not that many stories I could keep whizzing around my head like volleyballs without going insane. But then keep in mind that it just might end up that way where I just start another fic. I've already come up with a title and some characters, but I'm not sure.

Linda, update your reviews, I know you haven't read yet! And everyone else, thanks for your support, I definitely can't do this without you.

w/ luv, Yo-yo