The Problem with Pretty
By LittleMissRedShoes
(A/N: Here is the final instalment of 'The Problem with Pretty'. It's pretty fluffy really in relation to the other chapters, but I think it rounds of the story nicely. (Hopefully you do too! Like it, or hate it click that review button and let me know) I really enjoyed writing this and I want to give a big thank you to those who have reviewed, followed and favorited this story. It means a lot. For those of you who are interested, the song I had in mind when writing his chapter is 'Thinking Out Loud' by Ed Sheeran. So, without further ado, the final chapter!)
James awoke to the sunlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains. He automatically reached out for the body that should have been beside him, to draw it closer, but found the other side of the bed to be disappointingly empty. He threw the covers back, the cool morning air giving him Goosebumps as it washed over his bare skin. He got up in search of his clothes.
He found his tartan flannel pyjama bottoms on top of the dresser, where they had landed last night. How they had managed to get all the way up there, he wasn't sure, but then he had been somewhat distracted at the time. He searched around in vain for his pyjama top that he had also been wearing the previous night, but to no avail. He found instead a thin grey jumper that had been flung over the back of the armchair in the corner at some point, and pulled that over his head instead.
As soon as he opened the bedroom door, he hear music coming from the kitchen, as well as the clattering of pots and pans. Good to know that the silencing charms around the bedroom were still holding up. He headed down the stairs in the direction of the noises. As he got closer to the open door to the kitchen, he could hear soft humming along to the song. His bare feet padded along the cool tiles of the hallway until he reached the door to the kitchen. Once there, he leaned against the doorway and took a moment to appreciate the sight that was before him.
Lily hadn't seen him stood at the kitchen door and was dancing around the kitchen to a slow, melodic song wearing what looked like his pyjama shirt and very little else. She appeared to be entirely lost in the music emanating from the wizarding wireless as she swayed back and forth in time with the beat, her eyes closed. Her long red hair was piled messily on top of her head, with several wisps falling down from the confines of the clip that held it in place. There was something about the sight that just felt so natural and so right.
As she continued to dance around the kitchen, she raised her arms above her head, James' shirt rising up her thigh inch by seductive inch. James was suddenly torn between wanting to watch this moment unfold in all its beauty before him, and wanting to be a part of it. He slipped into the room quietly. She still seemed to be unaware of his presence.
She gasped audibly as he slipped his hands around her waist, standing behind her and began to sway with her gently. He placed a soft kiss to the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
"You'd better keep quiet." She whispered softly. "My husband is asleep upstairs." He gave a low chuckle at this and she turned in his arms to face him.
"Oh, it's you." She said, smiling up at him. "Good Morning." She reached up and kissed him.
"Good Morning." He replied before spinning her around the kitchen. She laughed gleefully at this, clinging tightly to him tightly and burying her face in his shoulder. He continued whiling her around the kitchen until she cried out suddenly.
"Stop! James, stop!" He let go of her just in time for her to run to the kitchen and begin to heave. He rushed to her side and rubbed her back as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the sink. When she was done, she turned on the tap and started towards the cupboard where the cleaning supplies were kept.
"No no no." James told her. "You sit. I'll clean." He manoeuvred her to the other side of the kitchen and lifted her onto the counter. He stood between her legs and leaned in to kiss her.
"Ew. James, no. I taste gross." She said, disgusted.
"Lily," he replied. "I want to kiss you even when you taste like puke. And I'll want to kiss you when you've got a belly like a beach ball, ankles like tree trunks and weigh the same as a small hippogriff, before you ask." She frowned at him. "And you, young lady," He turned his attention to the slight swell in her abdomen, "you quit making your mummy sick or we're going to have words."
"It's not his fault." She replied, emphasising he HIS for James' benefit. "You were the one spinning me around the place."
"You hear that princess?" James continued talking to her stomach, choosing to ignore the second accusatory part of Lily's statement, "Your silly mummy is under the mistaken impression that you are going to be a boy. Feel free to give her a bloody good kicking for that one."
"I'll kick you in a minute." Lily muttered under her breath.
"What was that?" James asked innocently, knowing full well what she had just said.
"I said he's going to be a boy."
"I say, she'll be a girl." He replied.
"Boy."
"Girl."
"Boy!"
They had been having this argument for weeks now, both convinced that they were the one that was right.
"Five galleons says she's a girl." James cried.
"Keep your galleons, I'll bet you a month's worth of nappy duty." Lily said, extending her hand. James shook it firmly.
"You're on!" he said, leaning in to peck his wife on the lips. She forgot that she had told him 'no' until she saw the triumphant grin on his face, as if he had gotten one over on her. She scowled.
As he turned back to begin cleaning the sink, he said over his shoulder, "I hope you have fun shovelling shit for a month my pretty, pretty little wife."
He was baiting her now, trying to get her to bite back at him. She knew that he enjoyed their little spats as much as she did. It was just another part of the passion between them. She had once confided in him her dislike for that word, the one that used to make her blood boil, but she found that it didn't bother her anymore. She had decided a long time ago to not let words bother her anymore. No, the only word that Lily Potter cared about was one she was lucky enough to feel surrounded by every day. Love.
"I love you, Mrs Potter."
"I love you too, Mr Potter."
xxx