She didn't bite him again.
She thought about it, and she licked her lips, and watched his Adam's apple shift as he swallowed.
But a little voice in her head told her that biting really wasn't an appropriate thing to do to you co-Head prefect, regardless of how strong and smooth and enticing his neck might look.
Since when do I find his neck enticing? Lily blinked hard. I'm losing it.
So, she didn't bite him. Instead, she forced a giggle and said, "Well, I can't very well do it when you're expecting it, can I? That takes the fun out of it."
She pulled her sketchbook from his loose grasp and turned away from him, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she did. She heard him chuckle, a low rumble that seemed to come from his chest, and she pretended she couldn't feel his eyes burning hot on her back as she darted from the room.
It took more than a week for things to get back to normal. Normal-ish. Normal enough that she didn't blush every time she caught him staring at her, smirking like they shared a secret. Normal enough that she could look at him without imagining the feeling of his hand wrapped around her thigh.
Not normal enough that she could stop thinking about his neck, though. His neck, of all the bloody things to fixate on. The muscles right beneath his jaw that stood out when he clenched his teeth. That pulse point she'd noticed throbbing in his throat, right where her teeth had landed.
Shit.
But they were finally friends. And friends didn't lust after each other's necks, last week's events notwithstanding.
What friends did was support each other at Quidditch. So, on Saturday afternoon, Lily pulled her thoughts away from James' neck (although the scarlet of Gryffindor's uniforms did look gorgeous against his golden-brown skin) and prepared to go cheer her House to victory over Slytherin.
She painted red and gold streaks on her cheeks and arms and tied a scarlet bow around her braid. In contrast to how perfect it looked on James, scarlet clashed horribly with Lily's hair. But fandom took precedence over fashion, and sacrifices had to be made. That said, she didn't begrudge herself a bit of mascara and a coppery eyeshadow that brought out her eyes before she went to meet Dorcas to watch the match.
Lily joined the rest of the students in the stands right as Madame Hooch blew her whistle to call the teams to the pitch. They Slytherins hissed menacingly as their team flew out in an "S" formation, and the Gryffindors roared as their captain did a loop-de-loop on his broom and pointed finger guns at the crowd.
He was such a show-off, and a corny one at that. But Merlin, Lily loved to watch him in the air.
Besides, who was she to complain about him being corny when she was carrying a hand-made sign that read, Snakes Can't Even Fly.
Whatever. She thought it was funny.
James thought so, too, if the way he paused on his broom and looked her way, lips twitching, was any indication. Lily grinned and winked, even though he probably couldn't see her face.
Friends.
What's better than a friend who gets your sense of humor? Nothing, that's what.
That's why she was smiling so hard. Obviously.
After nearly three hours of intense play, Gryffindor had a brilliant come-from-behind win when their new Seeker, Astraeus Jones, nicked the Snitch from right out from under a Slytherin Beater to end the game, 240-110. James scored six goals, including a spectacular shot where he came from behind the goal posts like Muggle hockey players do, drawing their Keeper far out of position before flipping the Quaffle into the farthest hoop with ease. Marlene McKinnon, another Gryffindor Chaser, scored three goals of her own to keep the match interesting.
Sure, it was only the first game of the year, but beating Slytherin always felt as good as winning the House Cup. As the Slytherin team slunk away, Gryffindor fans stormed the field, screaming and waving red and gold flags.
Lily, Dorcas, Remus, and Peter were among them. A crowd was forming around the team, and they had lifted Jones onto their shoulders and were shouting, "Hip, hip, hurrah!" James was laughing and squeezing Marlene's shoulders, and Gryffindor's Keeper was performing an extremely energetic celebratory dance.
Dorcas pulled Marlene away from James and hugged her giddily, and Peter began leading the rowdy students in the Gryffindor fight song they'd made up last year. Sirius grabbed Remus and swung him around, despite the latter's excessive height, and they both were laughing as Remus regained his feet.
James noticed Lily watching them, and he grinned and raised his eyebrows.
And in that moment, she did the only thing that made sense—she ran toward him and leapt into his arms, letting out a whoop of glee as she did.
He let out a whoop of his own and then pressed his lips to hers, hard and fast, before spinning her in a circle just like Sirius had done to Remus.
It was all so quick, for a second, Lily wasn't sure it had even happened. People all around her were cheering, but she was pretty sure that was still Quidditch-related. Astraeus Jones was back on his feet and had run the length of the pitch holding a huge Gryffindor flag. Some fifth-year girls were doing what looked like Muggle cheerleading moves. Remus and Sirius had linked elbows with Peter and were yelling and swaying along with the made-up fight song. Dorcas and Marlene were doing a victory tango.
And James was still holding Lily, his arms locked behind her lower back, a wide smile on his face. He released her slowly, and she slid down his body until her feet were back on the ground.
Only then, as she continued to stare up at him with her lips parted, did he seemed to realize what he'd done.
"Oh!" He reached up and mussed his hair. "Shit, I'm sorry, Evans. Got caught up in the moment. I—sorry. Didn't mean to do that."
That's what he said. But he was looking at her like he'd looked at her in the prefect's office last week. The way he'd tried not to look at her on the week since.
And now she was back to thinking about his bloody neck.
She took a deep breath and licked her lips. Then she marshaled every bit of Gryffindor courage she could find inside her and spoke: "Well, maybe you should've."
James blinked. "I—should've what?"
You can do this, Lily. She lifted her chin and gave him a sly smile. "Meant to do it."
"Meant to—I should've?" James repeated weakly.
Someone jostled Lily from behind, and she stumbled forward, into James. Her hands landed on his chest, broad and firm under his Quidditch robes. Her eyes were level with his neck, that perfect, golden neck. She glanced up and saw him staring down at her with wide eyes.
"Well, I thought you told me," she said quietly, so quietly she hoped he could hear her over the noise of the celebration, "that if a person's going to do something like that, they ought to do it like they mean it."
"Did I? Well—yes, I suppose, I said that, yes," he stammered.
Lily rose up on her toes before her courage faded. "All right, then," she whispered, as she took his earlobe gently between her teeth. He groaned and grabbed her waist, but she gave his ear one last nip and pulled away, dropping back to her flat feet.
"There," she said, hoping her cheeks weren't pink as she peeked up at him through her eyelashes. "I meant it that time. Now your turn."