So, I was going through some old e-mail and found a couple of my older drabbles. Yay!
This one is "His Journal"
I love him. I'm in love with him. With James. With James Michael
Potter. What am I going to do about it? Nothing. Abso-bloody-lutely
nothing. He doesn't like guys. Hell, he doesn't like anyone but
Lily. I hate watching him trying to impress her. Just once I wish he
would look at me like that. Like I was the only thing that matters.
Silly, no?
I would say all I want is one day with him, but I know I'm a selfish
bastard. I wouldn't let him go without a hell of a fight.
Why couldn't I have gone on thinking of him as nothing more than a
best friend? Why couldn't I be content with what he is willing to
give me?
I don't know when it all changed. When I caught him wanking in the
showers? When he wouldn't sleep until he was sure I would pass the
Transfiguration test I had to make up? When I was too sick to get out of
bed and he stayed by my side, willing to risk Madame Pomfrey's
wrath? Not that dear old Poppy ever gets mad at James. He has her
wrapped around his little finger. Maybe when I met a mischievous
eleven-year-old on the Hogwarts Express? Maybe I've felt this way
all along but didn't recognize it for what it was?
Stupid Remus had to leave that fucking romance novel of his where I
could find it. Stupid me for actually reading it. I wouldn't have
known I love James if I hadn't read it. Bloody authors who can't
write something less realistic.
Stupid, stupid me. For not realizing it sooner, when I might have had a
chance. For ever deciding that gender doesn't matter. For always
picking my dates because they have midnight hair or hazel eyes. For not
having enough guts to tell him. For everything I've ever done.
He asked me to help him plan his date with Lily. It's the first one
she's agreed to. All I want to do is shout that she can't have
him, that I love him more than she ever could.
I think I'll tell him to wear the navy shirt I bought for him last
Christmas.
James took a deep breath, looking up from the journal he had found
in the corridor. He couldn't believe it. Sirius loved him. Sirius
was in love with him. The 17-year-old stood up, the notebook clenched
tightly in his hands.
James had a date to cancel with a certain redhead.
And he had to find his best friend, his secret crush of three months..
He had to tell Sirius he was more than willing to give them a chance at
being something more.