Day Two

Prompt: Friendships

Snog Me

"James."

No reply.

"James, come on."

Nothing.

I mustered up the last bit of speed I had left and caught up to the messy-haired bane of my life. Grabbing his wrist, I huffed, "James, look at me at least, will you?"

The boy in question wrenched his hand away from my slippery grip and kept walking.

Curse those bloody long legs.

Alright then, magic it was.

Whipping out my wand, I muttered a soft Glissen-

He spun around suddenly. Merlin, I swear the boy has a seventh Lily sense sometimes.

Caught in the act, I felt my face starting to heat up with that darned blush of mine. Ignoring my stupid red-head genes, I took advantage of his momentary stillness and rushed up to him.

"James Potter, if you don't listen to what I have to say, right bloody now, I-"

"What more could you possibly do, huh, Evans? I doubt even you have any tricks left in your arsenal," A bitter smile accompanied his words.

I didn't respond; the look in his eyes had rendered me quite speechless.

"I mean, do all these months mean absolutely nothing to you? All the looks, the nudges, the whispers, the laughs, the smiles, the sodding hugs. You sure know how to drive a bloke up the Astronomy Tower, Evans, probably because you're so bloody barmy yourself," he ranted.

By this time, a flush had darkened his cheeks, his eyes were pools of stormy hazel and his hand had made a permanent residence in his bowtruckle's nest of hair. In short, he looked about as demented as Dumbledore.

Taking advantage of my continued silence, he gabbled, "I think, 'Okay, she clearly wants me to ask her out, the unresolved sexual tension definitely can't be doing any good to our health.' So I dredge up the last drop of courage from my pathetically depleted stock; thanks for that, by the way; and wait for the right time-,"

He said all this without a pause for breath, voice rising all the while, glasses askew,

"-there you were, chatting with McKinnon like you had no bloody care in the world, and here I was, sweating like a ruddy Hippogriff, running out of pep talks to buck myself up for the biggest moment of my sixteen sodding years. I went up to you, took the deepest breath I could without risking lung explosion, and popped the question. I meant for a long, heartfelt speech, actually, but damn those bloody beautiful emeralds of yours; all that squeaked out was the usual 'Go out with me, Evans?', and just ARGH-"

He wasn't even looking at me any more, glaring at his shoes as if they had done him great bodily harm, hands flailing around (his hair would probably be thanking the Hair Gods) as he desperately struggled for words big enough to convey his apparent frustration.

"-and what does she do?-" Oh, it was 'she' now, was it? Hello, Potter, I'm still standing right in front of your crooked nose, if it has skipped your notice, I thought.

"-she goes redder than her hair,-" I did not. That wasn't even physically possible, for Godric's sake. Humph.

"-looks at me as if I'd crawled out of a pile of dragon dung with wrackspurts buzzing around my hair, grimaces, and says 'Excuse me?'"

That wasn't a grimace, I was in bloody shock, you twit! Oh, his veins looked close to popping, seemed like he was about to-

"WHAT'S A BLOKE TO DO, HUH, EVANS? WHAT WITH THESE MAD BIRDS FLOCKING AROUND PLAYING QUIDDITCH WITH OUR FUCKING FEELINGS, 'Oh, look, here's James, let's toss him around a bit, or no! Let's bludger him hard, that'll be fantastic, it-"

"Snog me."

Now, it was his turn to look at me like I'd suddenly grown a bright pink unicorn horn and a couple of eyebrows. Eyes clouded with a hint of suspicion(Merlin, doubt a witch, why don't you?), finger rubbing at his ear as if to dislodge some nasty wax, head snapping up, he said, "Excuse me?"

Laughing internally at the sheer bloody irony of it all, I looked straight at him, willing my eyes to say all the things left stupidly unsaid and repeated a million galleons more calmly than I was feeling, "Snog. Me."

And so he did.