enjoyyy :))
Lily had an atrocious nights' sleep. Her neck had a crick, her lower back ached and her eyes were bleary, red and watery as if she'd vigorously rubbed them all night. The reason for Lily's horrible sleep was – unsurprisingly – The Man From Trivia. Or, James, she reminded herself. It was not that she was uncomfortable with him sleeping on the other side of the wall, but the thought of him, sleeping in a bed she slept in countless times, sleeping so near her, was odd.
How could Lily get comfortable and sleep soundly when The Man From Trivia was right there? Restless energy kept Lily awake for hours, her mind unable to calm down as it was much too focused on trying to solve the puzzle that had become Lily's life for the next week. Besides, James was sleeping in Marlene's spare room, which was truly Lily's room. She had the faintest desire to swap with him, but how weird would that look?
Also, her new flatmate for the week had been rummaging around for so long last night, and Lily could have sworn she heard him yell something along the lines of 'stop saying fuck!', which gave Lily the impression that James had been having a particularly bad row with someone on the phone.
Needless to say, it was not Lily's best Sunday morning. And it got much worse. When Lily finally managed to drag herself from her bed and check her phone, message upon message from Blocked Number barraged the screen, a number which could only belong to one person.
Groaning, she threw herself back into bed and tunnelled under the covers as if it could replicate Marlene's hug, a hug she so desperately needed. The knowledge that she would have to wait in line at some horrendous phone company for an exceptionally long time and speak to the tech-ish clerk-guy-man working there and deal with the hassle of sending out her new number to her friends and family again was just too much to bear.
The first time? It had been dramatic and tear-filled, but she'd had Marlene by her side. The second? It was almost fun, in a cathartic way, as she yelled and raged and then got piss drunk with Marlene on the way home.
But the dramatics and the rage had dissipated on her third trip and by now, the sixth bloody time, Lily was simply exhausted. She knew she should figure out how exactly her number kept getting out but she was just so tired of it all – she was taking an 'ignore-until-it-goes-away' approach.
Her ringtone startled Lily out of her groggy, annoyed stupor, followed quickly by relief as she didn't see Blocked Number flashing on the screen. But, alas, the relief was short lived – the name 'Petunia' seemed to glare at Lily with raised brows and pursed lips, as if daring her not to answer. Sighing as she accepted the call, Lily threw the door open and padded into the kitchen.
"Hello, Petunia," Lily said, voice weary. She stepped up to the kitchen cupboards, riffling for some food but came up empty handed. Besides a box of All Bran cereal which Lily distinctly detested, Marlene only had spices, uncooked pasta and an exceptionally odd amount of vegetable stock in her pantry and though Lily was hungry, she was not desperate, and pasta for breakfast simply would not suffice. She resigned herself to boiling the kettle.
"Oh, Lily, thank goodness you answered!" wailed Petunia. Lily was both annoyed and oddly humoured, for when was the last time Petunia had sounded even vaguely eager to speak to Lily? "You'll never guess what happened to Cheryl!"
Lily rolled her eyes, suppressing a groan. The Chronicles of Cheryl were a never-ending story, a limitless box set of books, a series forever getting renewed and, as would be expected with the name 'Cheryl', tediously, monotonously, mind-numbingly dull.
"Hit by a car?" Lily mused, pouring the steaming water into her mug, rummaging through Marlene's draws to find a tea bag.
"God, no, how morbid!"
"Well, one can hope."
"She… she… she… oohh, I can't even say it!" Petunia stuttered, her voice overwhelmingly shrill.
"Well, I-"
"Her husband was let off from his job!" Petunia blurted, not to Lily's surprise, for Petunia had a habit of interrupting, craving the attention of such dramatics.
"No!" Lily gasped. For the Chronicles of Cheryl, her husband being let off was riveting, the most critical event Lily had been told in months.
"Yes! He has another job lined up," Petunia continued, "but still, how horrible for Cheryl? She just started getting along with the other wives at David's old job and now she has to start all over again!"
"Offer Beryl my sincerest condolences." As Lily turned to lean against the counter and tuned out a scolding from Petunia about remembering names, Lily startled with a gasp, hot tea spilling all over her arms. The pain barely registered. No, her mind was much too consumed with the sight of The Man From Trivia sprawled across the living room couch.
It was a… disorientating sight, to say the last. For one, he was much too tall for the couch, so his feet hung over the armrest and his arms, instead of tucked beneath him, were flung all over the place, one hanging off the edge of the couch and one resting over flung the other armrest. Lily thought he looked peculiarly jumbled, black hair sticking up and slippers barely hanging onto his feet.
Petunia continued to babble in her ear about poor Cheryl's hard life as Lily set her mug down and walked closer to him, the sound of his faint snores growing louder. Upon closer inspection, his face was not tucked beneath him, but was on the side, cheeks mushed and bunched up. That gorgeous inky hair fell across his face, but it didn't conceal his slightly open mouth, a sight which, though usually might be have been rather repulsive, seemed quite cute, giving him an endearing air of youth.
But what was truly bizarre – aside from the sleeping position – was that the coffee table beside him was littered in scrunched up pieces of note paper, strewn over Marlene's magazines and candles, spilling onto the floor. Lily noted one of James' hand was fisted around a pen, clinging onto it for dear life, even in sleep.
Perhaps he wrote songs? Or poetry? The thought was thrilling – of course The Man From Trivia, who dressed like a humble academic on Trivia Nights, would write poetry! Though others might find such a past time as humiliating or even a fictious attempt at being 'deep', Lily's studies of Literature at University had given her a soft spot for the fine art.
"Do you write poetry?" Lily asked, her question startling even herself, for when did she decide to ask him that? It startled James also, who jolted awake, quickly sitting up and wiping his hair from his face and dear God, Lily had to stop seeing him in his pyjamas, it was too much. He blinked groggily and then seemed to double take upon looking at Lily.
Eyes wide, cheek crinkled with sleep marks and black hair standing on end, James seemed to blurt, almost reflexively, "Would you like eggs?"
Hm. Strange response to her question.
It seemed as if Petunia was also startled by Lily's impromptu question. "Poetry? Lily, you know poetry gives me a headache and makes me awfully tried. Are you ok? Were you even listening?"
Lily frowned and simply said, "Eggs?" to which Petunia replied with a huff, but Lily was not paying her the slightest bit of attention because James waved at her. It was a very strange wave, rather stiff and James stared at his head in a mixture of bewilderment and horror, giving the slightest impression that his hand was not in his own control.
Lily's mouth quirked into a small grin and James turned the faintest colour of pink, shifting nervously on the couch. He finally dropped his hand before scratching at his hair, shrugging.
"Eggs? What do you mean, eggs? You see, this is why I don't call you. You always say the strangest things. How many times must I tell you that your humour is an acquired taste, one which I have not-"
The sight of James was so arresting Lily hung up on Petunia. The consequences of such an action would be steep, but Lily was prepared to listen to the Chronicles of Cheryl and grovel for forgiveness if necessary.
You see, James had stood up, his height once again startling to Lily's short stature and he'd given her this sheepish grin before yawning.
Yawning. The sight of this man's yawn was so goddamn arresting to Lily that she hung up on her only sister. It was official – Lily was an imbecile around this man.
"So… eggs?" James asked, walking into the kitchen, casually, as if it weren't strange that she'd asked if he wrote poetry and he answered with something about eggs. It seemed as if both James and Lily were content to simply erase those moments from memory.
"Yes, I… well, if you're offering," Lily said, before trailing after him, slightly dazed.
It was rather strange, seeing him here, acting so domestic, when she had only ever watched him from afar. It was intimate, in a way that was baffling and nerve-wracking all at once.
James opened the fridge and lazily assessed the contents of the fridge, bending over slightly so he could actually see within it. Lily perched on a stool at the bench, chin resting on her hands and attempted to rid herself of whatever idiocy had possessed her earlier when she'd asked, 'do you like poetry?', like she was some fifty-year-old lady recently divorced.
There was a lull as James continued surveying the fridge and his silence made Lily rather… anxious. He had been so talkative the day before – Lily hoped to God he didn't get weird and awkward now that the reality of them living together for a week had hit.
"So, scramble? Fried? Poached? God, don't you just hate how cafes make the most perfect poached eggs but you can never replicate it at home?" Lily babbled before forcing her mouth shut because she was speaking far too fast and far too randomly and she could almost see a sign pointing at her reading 'Nervous'.
Because she was nervous and for no good reason. Lily had dated many attractive men before, had even asked one out after a class at university when she had spied him sitting a few rows in front of her, but James had rendered her as nervous as she'd been at her job interview earlier that year and far more excited than she cared to admit.
Lily refused to be nervous because of him.
"I have some bad news," James said solemnly as he turned around, leaning onto the bench right across from her, his face alarmingly close to hers.
"Body stuffed in there?"
James sighed, shaking his head. "Worse. No eggs. No food at all, really."
It was Lily's turn to sigh. "Not nearly as exciting as cut up body parts, but still mildly concerning."
"'Mildly concerning'? I declare this an emergency! A body stuffed in a fridge is entertaining and mysterious, but a fridge without eggs is just sociopathic. And a goddamned emergency! What are we going to eat?" James groaned, suddenly straightening up to open the fridge and rummage through it once more, as if his complaining about eggs had caused them to magically appear. His back was hunched as he picked up and squinted to read the label of a strange looking condiment.
"So, a body in a fridge is not sociopathic?"
"No, it's much too cliché. Do you like… anchovies?" he asked, holding the jar super close and then holding it at arm's length. "Anchovies in… cigars? What on earth does your friend eat?" James promptly thrusted it back into the fridge, disgusted, continuing his rummaging.
"I believe it says 'vinegar', not 'cigars'. Maybe you should put your glasses on?" Lily teased, swinging her legs under the stool before she froze, heart beating up a notch when she realised her mistake – James had not worn glasses at any moment he had spent with Lily. She only knew because she'd seen him wear them almost every trivia night and she was so accustomed to them that the sight of his face without them was rather odd. Lily thought it must now be painfully obvious to James that she knew him from somewhere, had seen him wear his glasses before.
James turned to her, frowning. "How do you know I wear glasses?" His eyes were slightly narrowed and his tone was oddly suspicious – too suspicious for Lily's liking and her mind could not help spiralling.
Did he think she was some stalker – or worse, did he recognise her from trivia? And thus, did he now know that Lily observed him at trivia so much so that she was able to recall that he wore glasses? And did he know that she actually-kinda-maybe-sorta knew him?
And here, Lily thought, was the best opportunity to admit that she'd seen him at trivia before. The universe was practically screaming at her to say that she'd recognised him. She didn't, however, have to mention that she'd observed him, particularly – perhaps Lily could pass it off as a simple, 'oh-I-think-we-go-to-the-same-trivia-night-can't-be-too-sure-though-ha-ha'. A casual, offhanded approach that concealed her embarrassingly large infatuation with him. It would be for the best – Lily would no longer have to worry about slipping up or mentioning something about trivia to him.
But instead, Lily stuttered, "You were… squinting like crazy to read that label – rather obvious." It seemed as if Lily was decidedly against telling James she recognised him. James merely nodded, gave her a quirked grin before turning back to the fridge, seemingly satisfied.
Lily realised she had to be far more careful, because there were things she knew about him that he didn't know she knew and she wouldn't admit to recognising him, not now, not after neither one had mentioned it yesterday.
"Do you like pickled onions?" James asked, already moving on from the 'glasses fiasco', voice slightly muffled from his face being buried in the fridge.
"Delicious."
"With mustard?"
"Scrumptious."
"With a side of sun-dried tomatoes?"
"I've only been dreaming about that exact meal since I awoke, starving and dreaming of nourishment."
"We should go to the store."
"Yes, we should."
It had already been quite an eventful day for James before he had woken up. Oh yes, James had been fixatedly preoccupied with a task in the very early to the not-so-early hours of Sunday morning.
After sharing a rather casual 'goodnight' with Lily before they both went to sleep, James had raced out of his room, thrown himself onto the couch and called Sirius.
"It better be important, otherwise I'm hanging up," Sirius had said immediately, rushing to get it in before James could say anything.
"Important? Important? This is more than important, it's an emergency!" James hissed, trying to keep his voice down, as for once in his life, he did not want to draw attention.
"Has someone died?"
"No, but-"
"Then I see no emergency."
"Could you just put Remus on speaker and shut up for one minute so I can tell you that The Girl From Trivia is here!" James whisper shouted into the phone, leaping from the couch to pace his nerves out.
"Mate, we know. You texted us and when we pried for details, you told us to shut it," Remus said, far too calmly for James' liking, for this was an emergency and why weren't they reacting with the appropriate amount of seriousness?
"I told you to shut it because she's been awake all afternoon-"
"Awake all afternoon?" Sirius mock gasped. "How dare she. What a strange habit."
James didn't even let it bother him, his mind working too furiously to even register Sirius' barb. "And if you kept texting me, I would have just screamed. So, I am telling you now, that she's living with me for a week! A WEEK! What I am going to do? I was planning on watching those baking show reruns all week and now I can't because I can't be that lame guy who only watches TV! I can't be that guy! It's The Girl From Trivia, for Christs' sake!"
"You're living with the girl you've been pining over for months and you don't know what to do? Do her, you absolute moron," Sirius said.
James wailed as quietly as he could, which was not very quietly. "Do not even PUT that idea into my mind or I will drive to Yorkshire and punch you in right in the face. I need a plan, a… a something! Help me! Remus, help me!" James abruptly stopped pacing and threw himself onto the couch, banging his head repeatedly into the cushion.
"Stop banging your head," Remus said and for the life of James, he could not work out how Remus knew.
"I can't! I'm overcome!" James whined, banging his head once more.
"He's a right mess," Sirius muttered.
"Ok, let's make a plan for tomorrow morning and then you can see how you go from there," Remus asked.
James sat up on the couch, hugging a cushion to his chest. "Remus, you're a godsend and an actual good friend, unlike others. I could kiss you right now, I swear."
"Oi! Relax," Sirius said.
"Get a notebook and pen," Remus instructed and James shot off the couch, rummaging through the draws of Marlene's cupboards in one hand and phone in the other. He nearly slipped chasing from cupboard to cupboard, socks slick on the shiny wood floors. At last, James found a notebook and held it up as if it held all the answers.
"Notebook!" James whisper-yelled into the phone before rummaging to find a pen.
"Before we start, tell us how you acted this morning?" Remus asked.
"If I had to guess, I'd say he made a right fool of himself," Sirius replied.
Grabbing a pen, James rushed back to the couch, notebook on the coffee table, his tall frame awkwardly leaned over so he could write, contorted like an overly large question mark. "I acted like my charming self. I was actually overly charming, I might add, which is terrible, because now she'll expect me to be wonderfully witty at every moment of the day! I'll have to have witty remarks and quips actually prepared and make sure I am constantly turning on the charm! Arrgh, this is going to be exhausting," James groaned as he internally cursed the universe for making him too charming for his own good.
"I think you're dramatizing the events of this morning just a smidge," Siris said and James had the urge to whack him.
"Ok, so maybe you can be relaxed tomorrow morning? Show another side that isn't so-"
"Painfully irritating? Weird sense of humour?" Sirius offered.
"Wickedly handsome and charming?" James suggested.
"Energetic," Remus finished, tone placating.
James could only gasp, growing rather serious for a moment. "Energetic? Remus, I'm a grown man, not a puppy."
"'Grown man'? I'll believe that when I see it," Remus said. "What can you say that's calm in the morning?"
"'Hello'?" Sirius suggested and James instantly wrote it down before pausing.
"Isn't that a bit… generic?" James questioned.
"It's also a bit too formal. Who says 'hello' anymore? Maybe 'hey'?" Remus offered. James quickly ripped off the 'hello' page, scrunched it up and threw it on the coffee table, writing 'hey' down on a fresh piece, writing so hard his pen indented the page.
"But what if she says good morning? You can't really say, 'hey', that's too 'I'm-really-boring-you-shouldn't-fuck-me'," Sirius said and James, with an almost alarming speed, ripped the page with 'hey' off, crumpled it up as if it had personally offended him and threw it on the floor. He had the urge to stomp on it.
"You're right!" James hissed, trying to keep his voice down – he couldn't bear the thought of Lily actually overhearing this conversation. "What about a classic, 'good morning'?"
"Again, too formal," Remus said, sighing. "Maybe something like, 'good dreams'?" Again, James wrote it down.
"'Good dreams'? Jesus Christ, what are you, a mother? He's trying to fuck her, not-"
"SIRUS! STOP SAYING THE WORD 'FUCK', SO HELP ME GOD!" James yelled, the need for remaining quiet suddenly overcome.
"Ooohhh! How about you get up before her and already have like tea or coffee made and say, 'hungry'? Nice and casual," Sirius suggested. Again, James ripped off the 'good dreams' note and wrote 'be awake, make tea, hungry' on a fresh sheet.
"Say 'hungry'? When offering a drink?" Remus remarked drily.
And on it went, a cycle of suggestions and then promptly discarding them. 'Hey' was suggested again, multiple times, and each time abandoned for reasons of being 'too detached' or 'too macho'.
Eventually, an hour or so later, surrounded by discarded notes and scrunched up balls of paper, the three had unanimously decided on a game plan. First, James had to wake up early, before Lily, and make his signature coffee. If he had time, he should run to his café and make a few options there and take them back to the apartment. Second, he must ensure he looked good – no ratty old school t-shirt – and that he'd showered and brushed his teeth. Third, when Lily exited her room, James had to be ready to quickly open the fridge as if he had been casually looking in there. Fourth, and most critically, he was to say 'would you like eggs?', casually and coolly and calmly, as if he had just decided to prepare some for himself and she just so happened to walk in at the right time.
The plan was fantastic – utterly fantastic. Resolved, James hung up and decided he should clean up the scrunched-up paper for, James considered, the lounge room looked as if he'd been trying to write bad song lyrics of poetry. He shuddered – God forbid Lily think that about him.
But, first, he decided to call Peter, for James needed to ensure – double check, if you will – that the plan was fantastic. He also wouldn't have minded a little feeding of his ego before he actually had to enact the plan and Peter always seemed to hype James up. Besides, James knew Peter would be awake, playing some new video game. Though Peter said he streamed himself playing video games for a living, James was always sceptical, as Peter often avoided very normal and very important questions, such as how many subscribers he had and whether he'd moved out of his parent's house yet.
As assumed, Peter picked up after the first ring. "What's up?" he asked, faint sounds of gunshots and screaming in the background.
And James conferred the plan with Peter, double-checking that Sirius and Remus weren't trying to stitch him up with a bad plan. Peter relieved James' anxieties – it was a good plan, he'd said, but then Peter had taken it upon himself to ruin James' confidence by mentioning a wave. A wave, which seemed inauspicious at the time that the word fell from Peter's lips, but would soon, in James' own words, utterly and wholly ruin him.
"Should you wave? To say morning? 'Coz you aren't saying anything about the morning or greeting her, so maybe a wave could signal like, 'hey, I am acknowledging your presence' so you're not just, abruptly like, 'want some eggs?', and kinda scaring her," Peter suggested, various swears and grunts permeating his speech.
And James began to spiral – because of course he wanted Lily to know he acknowledged her presence! How could he be so idiotic as to forget such a crucial step? And a wave might just work.
Hanging up before he said goodbye for James was far too concerned for this plan, James proceeded to spend the next hour walking around the apartment, practising exactly how he would wave at her. A 'hello' wave? A royal wave? A salute? A brief finger-waggle? A jazz-hand wave? A simple raise of the hand?
He eventually found himself in the bathroom, staring at the mirror, running through and promptly discarding nearly every type of wave known to man. James had never known before this night that so many waves existed.
He had decided on a simple raise of the hand before realising that it could easily be misconstrued as this weird, 'good morning high five' situation, which would be horrifically embarrassing for all parties involved.
Finally, James settled on a casual wave, with his head turned at this specific angle that highlighted his jawline, before setting his alarm for 6am (just in case she was an early bird) and crashing on the couch.
He only realised his alarm didn't go off when he was startled awake by The Girl From Trivia herself, standing almost over his sleeping form, in a pink sleeping singlet and green pyjama shorts.
Jesus Christ. It was both the most frightening and best wake-up experience James had ever had.
Her hair was messy in the prettiest way, dishevelled in these loose waves and her facial expression was just the perfect mixture of confused and amused, her pert nose scrunched up adorably. Her singlet was tight with these thin, spaghetti straps, and almost indecently small for winter and James loved that bloody singlet because it was somehow wet, clinging to her skin.
And the shorts – those shorts. James nearly groaned aloud. Small and lime green with patterns of paw prints, they showed off her slim, smooth legs and as they hung low on her hips, a sliver of her abdomen peeked out from above the waistline. It was too much – far too much for the morning.
She was so… so arresting that James only briefly registered what she'd asked him.
And he blurted out the only thing he could. "Would you like some eggs?"
Lily had looked adorably confused, as she bloody well should, because answering 'do you write poetry?' – a very considered, intelligent, grown-up question – with 'would you like some eggs?' was not only strangely bizarre, but exceptionally idiotic. Lily asked him about poetry – which could be romantic – and he had responded by mentioning eggs, one of the most uncomfortable and decidedly 'un-romantic' words in the English vernacular.
James had wanted to hit himself. And – as genius as James Potter was – he decided to redeem himself by waving at her.
Waving. At. Her.
It seemed as if the sight of Lily, in her too-tight singlet top and too-short pyjama shorts, was too-bloody-much for James as it rendered him a complete and utter moron.
Only when James was walking beside Lily as they meandered their way up and down various aisles of the closest convenience store did he truly comprehend the sight Lily must have seen upon waking up – James, sprawled asleep on the couch, surrounded by crumpled up pieces of paper.
James could not see any version in which Lily did not consider him the most grandest of fools. James smacked himself on the head and Lily looked across at him, alarmed, arms full of various food items for the apartment.
"You right, there?" she asked, eyes narrowed.
"Oh yes, bloody brilliant," James responded as brightly as he could. "So, Lily," he said before she could ask him anything further, "how do you know Marlene?" James commended himself – the question had nothing at all to do with himself. Topic diverted.
Lily hugged her items closer to chest whilst she slowed down to inspect the packets of 2-Minute Noodles on the aisle. "We went to the same boarding school. Roommates our first year and inseparable ever since."
James shot her an astounded look. "Really? Boarding school? I went to one as well. Roomed with my best friends for years. I share a flat with two of them now. Well, one, but he's dating the other friend, so it's usually the three of us."
"Is it weird? Being the third wheel?" Lily asked, pausing to quickly pick up a loaf of bread. James would have offered to carry it for her, but his hands were already full. For some reason, James and Lily just could not locate the baskets upon arrival.
James shrugged. "Not really. Been this way pretty much my whole life – they've been together for so long that I've forgotten what it was like when they weren't." And it was true – James had never begrudged Sirius and Remus. "You know, I remember when they first started dating, I didn't even notice."
Lily shot him a shocked look. "What? How did you manage that?"
"Well, they were already really close. When they started being affectionate, I just thought they were closer."
Lily stared at him, eyes wide in shock. "You thought they were still friends? Even though they were being affectionate?"
"Well, yes. They would hold hands and kiss on the cheek and stuff but-"
"Wait, they held hands? And kissed on the cheek? And it never clicked? Like, at all?" Lily seemed overly exasperated.
James abruptly stopped in the aisle, pleading his case next to the canned tuna. "But they never said anything! Never told me! How was I supposed to know?" he wailed in his dramatic way but Lily only stared at him as if to say, 'come on, really?'.
"James," she said, pausing. He loved the way his voice sounded in her voice. "They. Kissed. On. The. Cheek."
James let out an annoyed huff. "When you say it like that, you make me sound stupid!" James felt mildly idiotic.
Lily burst out laughing, shaking her head, and James no longer felt so idiotic – if he could make her laugh, he'd make a fool of himself all day long. "That's because you were stupid! If I had my hands free, I'd knock to make sure something was in there," she said, nodding towards his head.
James shot her a grin. "Lots of wonderful things up there. But, alas, the contents of my head are too smart and mysterious for the likes of you," he said gravely.
Lily's eyes lit up, but she played along, nodding in complete seriousness. "Oh, of course. The information of where you really would hide body parts, apart from in the fridge, would be far too much for me to handle."
James sighed. "I'm afraid so."
Lily just laughed again, turning down the aisle to the cash register and James trailed along after her. "I'm sure I'll get into that smart and mysterious head of yours someday. It's only a matter of time," she said in a sing-song voice.
What she didn't know, James had thought, was that she already had.
thanks for reading everyone! much love xxx