At night, he sometimes dreams about her.
Red hair flowing through his fingers. A willowy body leaning on his chest. A phantom kiss on his lips.
He wakes up in a sweat. Still hears her giggles. Still feels her touch. One of these days, she's going to drive him mad.
He takes a cold shower. Shivers as the icy water runs over his body and he tries not to wonder what she's doing at that moment. He stands under the waterfall. The minutes speed by. PRONGS, he hears someone shout. He leaves the bathroom.
He puts on his glasses and with that, his confidence. He is no longer pining. He is no longer depressed. He is only James Potter once he steps through the door way and walks to the common room.
Sirius sits by him while they wait for Peter and Remus. Sirius talks about the upcoming game. Can't wait to hit a few bludgers, Sirius says. He has a hard time listening as he lounges on his arm chair, especially when red hair catches his eye. It moves through the crowd and out the door. Maybe they can just meet us at breakfast, James says and walks to the door.
He sits near her at breakfast. Not close enough that it looks deliberate. Just near enough so he can hear her laughter. He glances at her quickly as he sits down. Her hair limb. Her eyes dark. What is it that makes her so sad, he thinks as he sits down.
Sirius talks about Hogsmeade through breakfast. No dates, he shouts. I don't want to see one girl. It's a guys day. He smiles, it may be nice.
She leaves for class early. He tries to think of an excuse. A professor needs to speak to him. He left is notebook in the tower. Too obvious. He leaves when the bell rings.
In class, a few girls whisper about him. He pretends not to hear. He stares in front, a little to the left where she sits whispering to her friend. Her hair covers the back of the chair. It's so long, he thinks and wonders why he never noticed that before. She leans forward to add something to her notes. He looks at his own parchment. Blank but for the doodle of her initials.
One of the whispering girls sends him a notes inquiring about the Hogsmeade weekend. Sorry, he writes, guys day. He sends it back as he catches her eye. Dark green staring into gold. He smiles. She turns away.
When the class ends, he watches her run away. Her books fall behind. Her hairs whips around her. He looks at his watch. He looks towards where she was just minutes before. Without saying goodbye to his friends, he follows.
Her feet echo on the stone floors. He doesn't see her, but he hears her. Hears her cries. Feels her pain. Would you tell me what's wrong if I asked, he thinks as he hears the oak doors slam a hallway ahead.
He pushes them open. Walks ahead and stands still at a certain distance. She stands over the lake. Hair wild. Control gone. He smiles as he watches her fall onto the ground. So she isn't perfect, he thinks to himself.
He walks over, quietly. The faintest steps. The faintest beating of his heart. He looks at her. The ivory of her face. The cute button nose he thinks he may want to kiss. The dirt she smooched on her left cheek.
He laughs. Eyes shoot open. Emeralds glitter up at him in surprise. He smiles. She sits up. Her cheeks turn red. You're cute embarrassed, he almost says.
What are you doing here, he hears. He laughs again. As if he's the anomaly in this situation. He sits down. She backs away slightly. Too close.
I don't think it's me that's out of place, he chuckles as the faintest smile appears on her lips. She's a mess, he decides. Grass in her hair. Dirt stains on her shirt. He thinks he just fell in love.
He reaches for her. Hands move and pull some of the grass out of her hair. 'Accidentally' he touches her face. Her eyes close. His hand tingles.
I like you like this, he whispers as if afraid to say it too loud. As if afraid she will not understand. She looks down. She doesn't.
What? Dirty?
Normal. She stares at him. He sucks in a breath. A breeze ruffles up his hair. A leaf falls on her head. Lily Evans' eyes close and he leans in to kiss her.
A turn of her head. His lips still only touching air. I have to go, he hears. Class. She runs. He watches. The oak doors slam. He falls backward onto the grass. A hint of a tear rolls down he cheek.
That night he thinks about her. Red hair flowing through his fingers. A willowy body leaning on his chest. A phantom kiss on his lips.
I love you, he hears her whisper as he slowly falls asleep.
End