Close your eyes (don't let you catch me)

Flossie1

Summary: When something feels so suffocatingly right, is that when you leave it all? Is that when you cheat the ones that care the most?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and Michael.

Author's Note: Holy moley! Can you believe it? (No, I suppose you can't) The last time I posted a chapter here was almost exactly a year ago. Wowee. It has been quite a while.

I need to explain things before I go onto this chapter. Firstly- it has been an extremely tough past months in my family and I'm sure you know that some things mean a lot more than fan fiction. I wont go into any details because I'm sure you don't want to hear it. To all of the reviewers- your reviews have been the biggest thing that made me decide to update. And for that I thank you.

Now- this chapter has been written twice. The first time it was hastily posted in an effort to regain all of you lovely people's trust that I will write again- and i forgot entirely about how to write, and my own style of writing. In short- it was crap. I apologise for posting it now. When i read over your reviews i realised that it was not worth your reading and therefore i deleted it. One reviewer said- that i should try to bring out more of the character in my writing- it takes longer- but the effect is for the better. Thank you for that advise- I hope you can tell I have taken it to heart in this chapter.

On a final note: Lately I have been writing only for myself, and it's just helping getting me through a few things going on. So- to Dumbo- I promise you that I will never, ever stop writing. Your message made me cry- there is no way I could forget you.

Nike

-0-0-

Dear Lily-

To Lily-

Lily,

I can never forgive-

Lily- what you did was-

Lily- If, for one more time I have to begin this letter again, I promise myself that I will turn it into the fire to burn. I imagine the flames will begin at the very corners of the parchment and spread quickly towards the middle, and there turn to ash all that I have written. Thinking of my words being erased into insignificant soot by the fireplace comforts me somewhat, and I suppose this is what will keep me from losing thought and having to think in the way I have for the past five weeks. For these weeks have, contrary to what I imagined, gone so quickly I am uncertain they have even passed. Ask me what I had done a single day ago and I do not believe I could tell you. For the most part- I have been thinking of you- Lily. And for the most part of that, I have been hating you. Because hate is the only emotion I truly understand. Hate is the only mask I can blanch and know that I have fooled all of those around me. Hate is easy- because hate has been the most of my life.

I cannot understand you- and somewhere towards yourself- I trust you do not know me, do not know me to even begin trying to understand me. Someone wise once said, and do not ask me for his or her name because I would not have even the slightest reckoning, that to understand someone you must never love them. Maybe this is true; maybe love is some figure of shield that protects the other from looking or sounding...of feeling good? That love is some big lie, some big phoney glasses that blinds you to that person's faults and brings out only the best. You know, Lily? I think I could believe that. But if it were true- I would have believed you when you told me that you did not kiss Michael.

So all that I can conclude from this is that I am a bad person. Once again, I have written myself into a dead end- a place where I do not know where to lead. This, when I sat down and collected a pen and parchment, was to tell you I would never forgive you. I know that this is not true. I could even go as far as to say that there was nothing to forgive- but perhaps I am not fully ready to admit this, especially in the most honest state I have been in so far. I knew that it was not true even before I spoke those words to you on that day. Because of me, because of my past, my present, my future- I am not the good person that you need to be happy. I can safely say that you understand form reading this that I love you, and that the wise person I spoke of might perhaps not been so wise. Because that is wrong. I love you- and I can understand, the one thing that I can understand about all of this is that you are perfect. Even when I am blinded to you.

As you have already guessed- I am not going to send this. Ha. I bet you knew from the very beginning, before I had decided on the "Lily" than the "Dear Lily". So this has been a waste of time. Ask me tomorrow, Lily, and I will forget that the soot collecting at the bottom of the furnace was my mind- for one moment. Truth.

James

.

Dear James,

If you do not speak to me for another year, and a further year from that then I could understand it. If I do not look at you for a day then I have a magnificent willpower that somehow I have kept hidden away in the shortness of my personality. I cannot blame you when I arrive at school and you are over me- and that this letter is simply another example of my foolishness and I will be forced to pretend that it does not matter. That it does not matter when I realise what I had been hoping, praying was not true the entire time I was with you. Every time you kissed me. That I am like every other girl. Except this time is a little bit different. You know that I love you. And I hope that it is another fault in me when I tell you that I know you do not love me. If you were to walk into my bedroom right this moment and tell me you loved me I know that I would believe you. No matter how sincere you looked or whether you laughed and screamed "Opposite Friday!" into my face afterwards, no matter that it is a Saturday and a Friday is not for another six days. And in another two days school begins again. Tonight I will practise once more how to forget you, knowing full well every time I do- I am lying to myself- over and over until I can no longer stand it and I go to my bed and close my eyes. My father will come into my room exactly one hour after he hears the creek of my mattress against the wooden floor, and he waits at my door until he hears my even breathing and decides that I am asleep. I am not, of course. He then opens my door and sits down on my rug and watches me. I do not know for how long because when I feel the slow burning of his sadness I cannot stand it all until I will myself to sleep.

I am sending this now-

(ha...opposite Friday...)

-0-0-

Lily had learnt at a very young age that there is never any use in expecting something of the one person you would give the world to. It wasn't a matter of trust- to Lily it was common sense. Being close to a person required certain things…she needed to know that they would never leave her.

Her mother had not been her favourite person, in fact, Lily hardly remember much of her. Peppermint from her toothpaste, perfumes from a flowered bottle… She had once read that the human brain remembered smells most out of all the senses. She often wondered why she did not remember the smell of that night- wished the vision had not been saved but instead perhaps the burnt roast or the lemons sitting in the pretty bowl on the sink.

Her mother had planned to make a big dinner that night, but Lily did not remember what for. In the afternoon she had helped her pick the buds off the rosemary hedge in the yard to season the meat- remember whisking eggs for a pie.

It was a shame the fruit bowl had broken into so many pieces- Lily could remember. She had loved the swirls of greens and blues on its base, Lily had always been extra careful when she handled this bowl because of her tendency to smash expensive things.

She would like, for many things, to forget that things had happened. When she got older she pictured being able to just wipe away all of those memories. Just…gone. She would have loved to remember the good times. The saddest part of all was that she could not, for the life of her, remember any good times.

Lily knew that she had always wanted her mother to come home. At first she had believed it- so strongly. That she would come through the door later that night with some takeaway in one hand and a new dress. She didn't.

And that was her lesson to her daughter. Oh- she did not know it- but from then on- Lily did not try to expect anything more from a person. Because she would always be disappointed. It was safer to think this way.

Lucky for Lily that she had decided all of this so early. When she walked into the great hall- imagine if she had actually thought James would wait for her?

"Lily! Oh Lily! Are you alright?"

Lily pulled a face, "Alright? Why? What's happened?"

"But Lily…surely you haven't already…?"

If not for her friend's serious face Lily would have laughed and teased her, "Jezebel…" she warned, "Tell me what?"

Her friend moved about un-easily, wringing her hands together, she looked up to face her friend's calm face, "James has a new girlfriend Lily- I thought you knew-"

-0-0-

Lily woke up that next morning feeling hot and uncomfortable. Trying to roll over the blankets were so heavy that she could not move. She considered screaming until she realised that there was a body sleeping on top of her.

It took a sudden breath in as it woke up, turning its face towards hers- her scared wide eyes like globes staring. Yawning quickly it stood itself up.

"What the FUCK are you doing on my bed Potter?!"

-0-0-

It had been a fair question, James mused, as he chewed on his toast half an hour later. He tried to consider how he would feel if there was a girl lying on top of him. Considering that she was his ex-girlfriend and up until the last time he saw her they hated each other.

Concluding that it was probably not a positive emotion he would have been feeling, James reminded himself that he did have a good explanation.

"Well.... um...Lily- well you see I..."

At that point James remembered why he had gone to Lily's dorm in the first place. A sudden grin and he reached deep into his jeans pocket and retrieved a handful of black dust,

"I didn't forget Lily! I thought I would have but i didn't! It's incredible- I know now that I know-"

Taking into account that the soot had landed on Lily's nightgown and her new bedclothes- Lily had not been in the mood to ask his what exactly he hadn't forgotten. In fact- having woken up a few fragile moments beforehand, Lily had not felt in a rather generous mood.

"James- why are you on my bed?"

"Because I needed to tell you Lily- I know now! I lo-"

Lily cut him off, "Shouldn't you be telling your girlfriend about this dirt James?"

There was a long silence as the words sunk in, James' face creased into a frown, "What do you mean my girl-"

Lily sighed, "Get the hell out of my dorm James."

-0-0-

What had she meant? James didn't have a girlfriend, or that of which he knew about.

Then it hit him, suddenly it made sense. Lily didn't want to make up.

James had not considered this when he had snuck into her room late last night. The thought that she was over him had not crossed his mind.

It had happened after the feast, as he was walking up the stairs towards the dorms, well and truly ready to slip underneath the warm covers, when he had casually felt the lump in his pocket, stopping suddenly (causing Peter to bump uncomfortably into his back, "Ouch Prongs-") James realised what it was. The letter! He wasn't supposed to forget! He was going to apologise- he had remembered how he had felt. Not only remembered, but it had stayed with him for the rest of the days to school began. It was all he thought about. Running down the staircase he had previously climbed, James turned into the Head's Dormitories.

This had to be different, he had never felt this way. He needed to tell her right now, or else he never would.

After all- not once had he had a real relationship- according to Moony.

What was a real relationship? he had asked;

"A real relationship is where you both like each other without taking into account popularity or status…or-" he blushed slightly- James grinned, "-sex."

James has scoffed at him, "I have so had real relationships! It can't be my fault if they happen to include great sex, can it?"

Lupin had, at that point, smiled slyly at Sirius from the corner of his mouth. Un-be known to James, they knew exactly how many girls he had slept with. And, contrast to James' bragging, you could count them on one hand.

Then James had begun seeing Lily. And all of that had changed. Lily was real.

It was all clear. He needed to get to Lily. Right now.

-0-0-

So the plan hadn't worked out quite like he had imagined

.