A/N: I am completely overwhelmed by the support thus far for both Quiet Summer and Golden Days. Thank you all so much for your reviews and favorites and alerts - and even if you haven't, thank you for reading in the first place! I can only hope to do our Lily and James justice, and I'm so very glad you're all enjoying. To Zayz, Rissa, and Vivphy: this one's for you :)

As always!
Mina

Lily loves James. She does. There was a time when she didn't – and they can joke about that now, thank God – but she doesn't like to think about it so much. They're here now. On days like today, when they can lie in bed together and just be, she can feel it. It's pleasant. It's not overwhelming or consuming or all those other words people try to use to explain love (not anymore, at least), but for her, it's nice and comforting. It's the way he twists a strand of her hair around his finger as they laze about on a Sunday afternoon. It's the way he rolls his eyes when she calls him beautiful, the way his chuckle rumbles against her chest when she leans in to brush a kiss against his shoulder.

She does that now, but instead of pulling her closer like he normally does, he pushes her away, leans back, props his head on his elbow to stare. The look in his eyes is familiar only because she's seen it so often now that, even though she doesn't know what it means yet, she can recognize it. It's a little scary. He doesn't have his glasses on and the light makes the gold in his eyes glow. She puts her hand on his face to steady herself.

"James?" she whispers.

He doesn't say anything. He stares. Lily has never been self-conscious, but she pulls the sheet up around her bare chest and has the absurd thought that maybe there's something on her face. Her hand moves to wipe at her mouth but he pulls it away and stares at that, too. Her knuckles are bony and her fingernails are bitten off and her nail polish is hideously neglected, chipping off at odd angles and shapes, but he stares and stares and stares for so long that she pulls it away and hides it under her pillow.

"James?" she whispers.

The light changes and the muscles near his mouth twitch and she can see that he's decided, now. This is something she's familiar with, that set of his jaw and that shape of his mouth. He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to her lips before moving around to grab something off of the end table. It's kind of hot in their bedroom and the window's open and her eyes are drawn to the curve of his back as he stretches, watching almost reverently the way his muscles pull and dance underneath his skin. He turns to face her and she's glad she doesn't have to pretend that she wasn't looking.

He doesn't say anything. He places his closed hand, his fingers facing the ceiling, between them on the sheets. She watches him for a moment, watches him watching her, and then, slowly, like a flower uncurling after a long, long night to welcome the sun, his fingers unfold.

There, in the center of his palm, is a ring.