Poppet and James lay under a blanket, in the dark. It was nearing midnight and Poppet's leg was draped lazily over James' lap. Poppet's cheeks were wet with tears. Her face was lit by the glare from the television. It was Tuesday evening and she and James had stayed up late to watch a marathon of muggle movies. James looked away from the screen and saw Poppet's tear-stained cheeks. He rolled his eyes.
"I can't believe you're crying at this," James laughed, "you're such a loser."
"It's sad," Poppet protested, "they're both in love but he's got another girl pregnant, she's marrying someone she doesn't even love... you're heartless!"
"They're in a bit of a tight spot but crappy films like this always have happy endings. You know she's going to end up running a hotel and he's going to move back to England and divorce his wife and they'll end up together. It's obvious."
Poppet sniffed. "I just want them to be happy."
"They're not real, you idiot," James snorted, rolling his eyes again. Poppet frowned, kicking him with the leg that was draped over his lap. He shot her a glare and then drew his attention back to the film.
Poppet had been in the company of James for three whole days. On the most part, it had been lovely. They'd swam in the sea, played Quidditch with the other Potters (bar Lily, of course) in the garden, baked cakes, gone for a walk in the woods, watched films on the muggle television, had uncountable games of Gobstones with Albus and Lily and she'd eaten far too much. But, James had been acting shiftily. He was being meaner than usual to her, especially the later it got. Their relationship was built on the ability to tease and joke around with each other but recently, some of his 'banter' had been cold and hitting a lot closer to home than Poppet would like. All through the day he'd be pleasant company but come night time, he was distant and sometimes even cold. Poppet tried to shove the thought to the back of her mind and focus on the film.
The main characters, a tall, handsome man and his awkward, brunette love interest, were confessing their love for each other now, using all sorts of metaphors and deep quotes that Poppet was sure many muggle teens had jotted down in their notebooks and had plastered on their bedroom walls. "Doesn't all this make you wonder?" Poppet asked, quietly.
"Wonder what?" James yawned, resting his hand on her knee.
"Well, you know... we never say this kind stuff to each other. Do you think we're not... romantic enough?" Poppet bit her lip and watched James' expression carefully. She couldn't read it. And that worried her.
"Do you really want to be having this conversation now?" James asked, sitting up slightly. Poppet's leg moved with him.
"Well – I guess not," Poppet grumbled, "but it was just a thought. Like, I don't want cheesy, cringy moments like this but... I don't know. Ignore me."
"Look, I don't need pretentiously long words and shitty similes to tell you that I love you," James said, casually, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he instantly regretted it. Everything froze. Poppet drew her leg from his lap and jumped up like a frightened rabbit. She was stood in the middle of the dark living room, still trying to comprehend what James had just told her. Her heart pounded. Did he just tell me he loved me?
"Did you just-?" Poppet choked, staring at him in disbelief.
"Uh – yeah, I guess I did," James said, rubbing the back of his neck, awkwardly.
"But-"
James stood up, pausing the film in the process. "I love you."
Poppet couldn't breathe. Was this happening? It was eleven-thirty at night. She was in somebody else's living room and James Sirius Potter had just told her that he loved her. James was stood in front of her, willing her to say something. His eyes traced her every movement. Poppet swallowed hard. "I love you too."
"I'm so glad you said that," James said, relaxing.
"I'm surprised you said that," Poppet replied.
"Me too," James admitted, "I didn't mean for it to slip out like that. I was planning on telling you in different circumstances."
"Oh, really?" Poppet asked, still stood rigidly in the middle of the room.
"Yeah," James took a step toward her, "I was going to take you down to the beach, actually. I'd been – uh – planning it, I suppose." Poppet's heart fluttered. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was adorable. And so out of character. It was almost like she herself was in a chick flick. "Being sickeningly romantic and all over you really isn't who I am, but I can be sweet."
Poppet smiled at him and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist and resting his head on her chest. "You sure can."
Hot tea swirled around in the cup, integrating with the milk and the sugar. The teaspoon clattered on the edges of the mug making an irritating jingly sound. Poppet felt the warmth of the tea through her mug as she cupped it in her hands and carried it to the table. Nobody was up. She was the first one. It was James' birthday. She had woken up at eight after a restless and light sleep and now she was shattered, drinking scalding hot tea in the kitchen, alone. Memories of last night were making her feel sick again. She and James had had an argument.
They'd finished the film and gone up to bed. Lying awake and talking until the small hours of the morning was a new favourite pastime of theirs and last night had been no exception. The talking eventually turning into snogging was also a regular occurrence. Again, last night had been no exception. However, it had been different. Poppet had tried again, for the first time since Sunday, to take things to the next level but James had jumped away again. This time, Poppet was determined to find out why. Her questioning, however, did not go down well. Angry whisperings were shared at two in the morning and Poppet had a hard time sleeping afterwards.
She knew that James was attracted to her. A man's arousal is not an easy thing to hide. She could physically feel that he found her attractive but she couldn't think of any other reason why James would be holding back. He definitely wasn't the sort who would have wanted to plan something special (he'd once told Poppet that sex was an act of spontaneity while he was drunk, truly scarring) and they'd told each other they'd loved each other now, so he couldn't have been waiting for that. All he'd told her last night that he didn't think it was a good idea. She wasn't going to pressure him into it. Sex without consent isn't sex, after all. It did make her wonder, though.
Today was James' seventeenth birthday and Poppet decided she'd make him breakfast in bed to apologise and also as a birthday treat. She was just about to get out the sausage, bacon and eggs when Ginny walked into the kitchen, yawning and wearing a pale blue dressing gown. She beamed when she saw Poppet stood in the kitchen, two eggs in each of her hands. "You're up early."
"I thought James would appreciate a birthday surprise," Poppet smiled weakly at Ginny, holding up the eggs.
"You're not trying to make up for your argument last night, then?" Ginny asked, grinning knowingly.
"How did you-?"
"The walls are thin, Poppet. I don't know what was said but I could hear angry whispers and unpleasant tones. Do you want to talk about it?" Ginny asked, indicating for Poppet to take a seat at the kitchen table.
I'd love to, Ginny! Your son won't put out! Any ideas on how I can get him to want to fuck me?
"No, I'm fine. It was really silly. Besides, I don't want to put a downer on James' birthday," Poppet said, cracking her eggs on the side of a Pyrex bowl.
"Well, if you're sure," Ginny said, switching on the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. "I thought at about eleven we'd have tea and cake and James can open his presents. Is that okay with you?"
"Of course," Poppet said, quietly as she stirred the eggs with cream, over the hob. James loved scrambled eggs, especially with cream and bacon on top. If this didn't win him over, she didn't know what would. Ginny made polite chit-chat while she made her tea. She then disappeared back upstairs with a cup for Harry.
James was sat up in bed when Poppet delivered his breakfast to him. He had a steely look in his eye and he was staring hard at the back wall. When Poppet slipped in, he looked up at her and saw the pile of scrambled eggs on the plate and his expression softened. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I'm sorry, too," Poppet said, handing the plate over to him and smiling.
"I was an asshole," James conceded.
"So was I," Poppet admitted, climbing into bed next to him, "I need to respect your choices a bit more. You don't need to explain yourself to me."
James smiled, warily. He took a bite of his eggs and then rested the fork on the plate. "You made these with cream, didn't you?" Poppet said that she had. James said they were the best eggs that he'd ever tasted. Then he turned to her and said, "I think I owe you an explanation."
"You don't have to-"
"No, I want to. You see, I told you a lie a while ago and it's why I won't... well, you know," James said, taking a deep breath and not dropping his gaze on Poppet. "I told you all a long time ago that Jeanette and I had sex a lot. I told you that again on Sunday. It's not true. I always wanted to but, you know, she's the year below us and she just wasn't ready and I respected that, obviously. I guess I was worried that you'd know what you were doing and I'd have no real idea..." Poppet almost laughed. Bless him. Even James, the most confident and arrogant person on the planet, had insecurities. "Not that I'm saying it's a bad thing that you may have had a lot of sex. Like, it's your own body and you do with it what you want. I'm – I'm not saying that-"
"You're so silly," Poppet said, kissing his cheek.
"I am?" James blushed slightly, a look of uncertainty in his eye.
"Do you honestly think that I would be disappointed with your inexperience? Look, I've only slept with someone once before and it was the most awkward, unpleasant and uncomfortable experience of my entire life. You don't have much to live up to," Poppet said, folding her hands into her lap and looking at James from the corner of her eye. He was grinning and taking another forkful of his breakfast.
"That's reassuring," James said after he'd taken a mouthful, still smirking as if there were no tomorrow.
"I'm going to go and have a shower now," Poppet said, pulling herself off the bed and grabbing some clean clothes from her suitcase. James remained on the bed, devouring his eggs. Poppet walked into the bathroom and then stopped, remembering something. She poked her head around the door. "Oh, happy birthday, by the way."
James smiled mischievously. "Thanks."
The rest of the day after that was rather uneventful. James opened his presents from his family and Poppet. Harry and James had gotten him a watch. It was silver with a black face and white hands. It was very fancy. Lily and Albus had bought him some new clothes as well as some treats from Honeydukes. Poppet had given him some Quidditch books which she knew he didn't have. She'd ordered them from Flourish & Blotts and it was so difficult to get them from the Great Hall to her dorm room without him seeing, now that he clung to her pretty much wherever she went. They'd had cake – an amazing chocolate creation courtesy of Ginny – and tea and then the whole family had gone down to the beach where Ginny set up a barbeque for James' evening meal while Harry played with the four of them in the sea. They played boys vs girls 'Tackle Tag', a game invented by James where the objective was to tackle a member of the opposing team to the ground. Lily and Poppet were tipped to lose but turned things around in round three and Poppet and Lily ended up winning.
Ginny cooked burgers, sausages, chicken and steaks on the barbeque on the beach and the Potters and Poppet sat, eating and drinking Butterbeer as the sun set over them. Poppet lay back on the beach, her stomach bloated from eating way too much. She looked up at the orange sky above her and sighed. She could stay like this forever. James lay back next to her and slipped his hand quietly into hers. She gave his a quick squeeze to acknowledge his presence but didn't say anything. "We're alone." His breath tickled her neck. Propping herself up on her elbows, Poppet looked up and down the beach. She hadn't even noticed the other Potters leave the beach. She squinted and saw them making their way up the path back up to the house, all of them laden heavily with bowls, plates and deckchairs.
"So we are," Poppet said, turning back to face him. His freckled nose was so close to her face. Carefully, she took in every detail of his face. She knew his eyes were chestnut brown but this close up she saw flecks of green in them. It was the same green as Albus' eyes; green like Harry's eyes. Stubble was appearing on James' chin, acting as a highlight, showing off how chiselled he was. She wasn't taken aback when he kissed her, and she obviously had no qualms about kissing him back. The two remained like this, tangled up in each other, until Poppet felt a raindrop hit the back of her neck. She looked up, kneeling. Her legs were either side of James.
"What?" James asked, but then a raindrop landed square between his eyebrows and he swatted it off, frowning.
"Balls," Poppet grumbled, pulling herself off of James and tugging at the blanket he was lying on. The raindrops became more frequent now, hitting Poppet repeatedly on her shoulders and her face. She scowled up at the sky. "Curse you, Mother Nature."
James reluctantly got off the picnic blanket and allowed Poppet to swoop it up in her arms. After a quick survey of the beach to check nothing had been left, Poppet and James made their way hastily up the beach. The rain was coming down heavily now, pounding the steel-like sea like tiny, silver bullets. Poppet held the picnic blanket over her head and James ducked to be under it too. The two of them ran up the path to the house, blanket over their heads, rain beating down on them.
They crashed through the back door of Shell Cottage and stood in the kitchen, freezing and panting. After a moment or two of recovery, Poppet and James started to laugh. They could hear the television blaring in the next room. It sounded like cartoons which were a personal favourite of Albus and Lily.
"God, you look beautiful," James snorted as he kicked off his soaking wet shoes and left them at the back door. "Why can't you look like this all the time?" Poppet's hair fell in wet strings, plastered to the side of her face. Her mascara had run down her face so she looked like a depressed panda. Her skin was pallid and white from being so cold.
"You're a tosser," Poppet said, slapping his upper arm playfully with the back of her hand.
"I really love what you've done to your hair." A familiar smirk etched itself onto James' face.
"You may laugh but you don't look so hot yourself, mister," Poppet said, ruffling his wet hair which had stuck to his forehead, making him look like he was about twelve years old. James scowled at her.
"You're not allowed to be mean to me," James stuck out his bottom lip, "I'm the birthday boy, remember?"
"Come on, birthday boy. Let's go for a shower," Poppet said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the kitchen. He followed behind her, caught up with her and snaked his arm around her waist and hugging her from behind.
"Together?" James asked, hopefully.
"Don't push your luck."
AN: This took me 3 days to write can you believe it? They told each other that they loved each other and if you can guess the film they were watching then ten points to your respective house! Also James is a little virgin boy... But for how much longer?