"Aren't you charming?" The coffee cup in Lily's hand is hot, but she can hardly feel the heat through her mittens. "You always know what I need and more importantly, when."
James taps his head. "I'm psychic, love." When she glances at him incredulously, he smiles sheepishly. "That, or dating someone for a year can teach you a lot about them."
"That's more like it." Lily winks at him before turning back to the railing of the bridge, gazing at the gently rippling river below. At night, the water looks almost black, if not for the moon's reflection spilling across the surface. The cold wind bites into her face. Involuntarily, she shivers and takes a sip.
It almost burns her tongue, but it warms her.
"Do you want some?" she offers, extending the cup in his direction. "You look as if you need to be warmed up too."
"Nah, I'm not really a coffee kind of bloke, you know me." He smirks, sliding his arms around her from behind, and Lily squeaks. "But I do believe in sharing heat."
If Lily didn't have a hot coffee in her hands, she would reach up to — she's not quite sure. She'd kiss him, but she'd also playfully smack him. As ridiculously cheesy as that line is, she's grateful for the extra warmth his body emanates.
(And, though she'd never admit it to him, she quite likes him all pressed up against her.)
James rests his chin on her head and murmurs, "Feeling warmer now?"
"Hmm." Lily closes her eyes. "I might be warmer, yes. I didn't know you were secretly a body pillow, James Potter."
James gasps dramatically. "Oh no, I have been discovered! By my own girlfriend, nonetheless! How will I ever recover my reputation?"
Lily rolls her eyes, but she's smiling.
(She is in love with a strangely charming idiot, and she wouldn't have it any other way.)
319 words
Race to the Top - Checkpoint 3 - Object: Takeaway coffee cup
