Yours, definitely

by casablancas21

James gets yet another chance with Lily, to his infinite relief but equal despair. Because how is he supposed to make her happy, finally being the man she deserves when he knows, deep down, that he does not deserve her? [One-shot James POV, continuing from where 'From Eden' left off.]

A/N: Hello there :) I'm just going to quickly drop a 25k words one-shot here as if that makes up for disappearing for months. 😊 Hope you enjoy it!

P.s: as usual many thanks to my amazing beta, Chestnut1992, for the incredible patience required to read and edit this teeny tiny fic S2

---

My hands are shaking like a bamboo tree.

Well, to be fair, my entire body's quivering, but my hands are the ones in full display, splayed across the steering wheel in front of me. Noting it with a grimace, I flex my clammy fingers, curling them around the edges of the wheel, scratching my nails over the black leather in the process, all the while taking long, deep breaths and commanding my stomach to stay put and not dispose of its content in a most shameful manner.

Not that the organ would have much to throw out; I've barely eaten all day. I've spent the past twelve hours since the moment my eyes shot open at seven in the morning on the very real verge of fainting from anxiety. Shower was a clumsy affair, breakfast basically non-existent, the drive to the office borderline hazardous to civilised society. I've never been less productive at work in my life; even when I had just started at Sleakeazy at the tender age of nineteen, irresponsible and spoilt, I'd performed better.

As such, food has been the last thing on my mind today, so I'm sure that if my gut does decide to get rid of anything solid featuring in its insides, not much would make it out anyway. It's a reassuring thought if I cared for the fate of my car's hygiene.

I don't.

Not wanting to puke my brains out has more to do, presently, with the dread of smelling like a homeless hobo on my first date with Lily.

Jesus fucking Christ.

A first date with Lily.

How is this real life? In what alternate universe did I get another chance with the woman of my dreams after fucking up so bad? Why has she changed her mind and, most relevant, how hard must she have bumped her head in order for this to happen?

These questions have swirled insistently, sickeningly, over and over in my head the entire week, since the wedding on Sunday and the following night, when she texted me to tell me that yes , an eight o'clock reservation at Darby's on Saturday sounded great. Besides the incredulity that my number was, in fact, no longer blocked, I couldn't believe my eyes when she remained true to what she had said in that dusty, little forgotten room in the mansion where Pads got married, and accepted going out with me.

Officially.

For the first time since we've met.

So we could start over. Begin again. Become actual friends. Build a solid foundation for a relationship.

Honestly, it's a miracle I'm still a functioning person right now. Part of me is convinced that this is all a twisted joke, some kind of cosmic prank to show me once and for all that I'm a ridiculous human being and that this awful, pestering, warm hope pulsing inside my chest is just another way I've found to excuse my past nasty behaviour and still try and conquer everything I've ever wanted.

The other part, however, knows that this is it - this is the chance I only ever allowed myself to long for in my wildest dreams, and that Lily has, indeed, for real , come back to me.

It's this second part, the one that at the moment seems more in tune with reality, - since I'm currently sitting outside her West Clapham flat twenty minutes ahead of time because I needed to prepare myself physically, psychologically and emotionally to ring the goddamn bell - that has me two seconds away from throwing up because there's no way I can allow this chance, this last chance , to go to hell. Again.

I cannot fuck up again, I cannot lose her again.

I need to pull this off, period.

If only my body would cooperate.

Closing my eyes, I bring two trembling hands to rub beneath the specs, over my lids. I maintain the soothing motion for a few beats, attempting to ready myself for the task ahead. The urge to smoke an entire pack of cigs is almost overwhelming, but I stifle it; I don't want to look like a homeless hobo by puking all over myself and neither by smelling like a chimney. I've also made a promise to myself that I would quit smoking again and I really want to stick to my word this time. It's part of my process of repentance.

Ever since I destroyed any shred of hope I had to be with Lily, I've developed a habit of making a mental inventory of everything that I had to change in myself to become a better man. Cut someone in line for coffee at Costa and wiggle my way out of their scowl by offering my most winning smile? No deal; don't be a rude prick, don't lean on your charms to excuse your bad manners. Interrupt someone at work because their idea is clearly not suitable to the problem at hand? At least listen to them first, you can politely decline their suggestion after all's said and done. Enjoy stirring shit up and spurring on debates over sensitive topics for the single sake of playing the ''devil's advocate''? Someone else's issues are not a philosophical dilemma for your amusement, you gigantic arse, shut the fuck up.

And so I have managed to somewhat live in peace with myself for the past fourteen months. Pushing all the memories linked to her to the farthest nook of my mind, I've soldiered on and accepted that change comes slowly, in small measures, and that the most important step was to make an honest effort.

None of that will help me in the slightest tonight.

Lily's not here to hold my hand and help me become a better man. She needs me to be him already. Otherwise, of what use is this second, millionth, chance she's giving me? We can't go as we were; this time around, we need to make it work. We need our interactions to be kinder, more genuine, to flow without all the previous hiccups. Like she said, we need to learn to be friends before we can try to be lovers.

My face scrunches at this thought. I'm not really one to cultivate female friendships. Never have been. Most times, either I would go straight for the kill, meaning that I would waste no time pretending I wasn't interested and that I wasn't looking for something romantic, or it'd be so blatantly platonic not even my treacherous brain and horny disposition could make something out of it, such as with older, married colleagues or my mates' girls. Friendship for the sake of friendship with women never occurred effortlessly for me. I can count on one hand the number of them I can actually call real friends.

On that note, I'm fully aware this does not make me look good. Some would say it's a red flag. They'd probably be right. Why have I so far in life only seen women as mine or somebody else's? Despicable, I know.

It's an argument for another day.

Right now I need to figure out how the fuck to behave myself during dinner.

Can't flirt as I used to, that much is obvious. Can't be too forward or take this new opportunity to win Lily over for granted. But I also can't be too distant or outwardly uninterested either, can I? The trick is to find somewhere in the middle, a balance of sorts, to ensure our night can be both unassuming and the prelude to something more.

I'm so deeply lost in calculations, I almost miss her texts.

Evans: Hey James

I'm ready

Lemme know when I can come down

My neck instantly breaks a sweat.

I close my eyes for another moment, taking one more fortifying breath, and message her back saying I'm outside her door already. When she replies ''Coming!'' I get out of the car with wobbly legs. Terrified, is what I feel. Barely not knowing what to do next. My past self would tell me to just go with it, let the evening run its natural course. No need to fret. It's just a date, dickhead.

My past self is the dickhead, though. Can't listen to him. I need to reinvent myself, if only for tonight, if only for Lily. So I wipe my clammy palms on the sides of my black slacks, gathering all of the courage I still possess to step forward until I'm facing the metal entrance of her apartment complex.

In under a minute, she's walking out, smiling.

Beautiful.

So damn beautiful.

Since the first time I saw her, I thought so. It seemed impossible not to; her appearance is so striking, with her flaming red hair and bright green eyes, it's inconceivable not to find yourself drawn to her. That's why I always found it curious that the lads didn't see what I saw; they'd tell me that of course Lily was pretty, but they never thought it to be as overpowering as I did. Like the moment she first stepped in at The Nags, looking my way and Lizzie's, face blossoming in a world-encompassing grin. My immediate thought had been how unbelievably gorgeous that girl was. And then, as the night proceeded, and I learned how her personality coupled with her looks to make for an explosive combination, I felt my attraction reaching new dangerous heights.

Every time we met after that this concept would only solidify further in me: she was one of the most arresting women I've ever encountered. Which made for quite a compelling dynamic that she did not want anything to do with me, and that I kept making an arse of myself in front of her. Because, for some unknown reason, I'd only ever shown her my worst.

That's also an argument for another day.

I've struggled terribly for many, many months to try and understand what really was behind my absolutely contradictory, counterintuitive behaviour towards someone I was so clearly interested in, and the conclusion to that is not something I want to focus on tonight. It will do me no good. Tonight I need to remember all the ways I've come along to becoming somebody that's not the bloke who broke her heart all that time ago. And I need to let her see it.

I need to convince her that I'm not him anymore, and that I'm worth it. Even if I have my own doubts about it. I might be trying to be better, but I'm certainly not that altruistic. I still want to have Lily, even if I don't deserve her. That hasn't changed.

Neither has she.

She still looks stunning, donning a dark silk dress that slides down her curves like a waterfall. Her curls are tamed tonight by a loose up-do and her emerald eyes shine with no restraint as they find my hazel. She looks relaxed, not at all as if she regrets giving me another chance or is dreading to spend the next couple of hours in my presence. It should tranquillise me; it doesn't. I'm way past being able to calm down. My nerves are all over the place as I cross my arms behind my back and offer a small smile, attempting to reel in the anxiety eating chunks at my chest.

- Hi, James.

- Lily. - My voice is raspy, so I clear my throat. It buys me time to take a step to the side and force out a nonchalant tone. - Uh, you look lovely.

She grins, closing the door behind her.

- Thank you, it's a new dress. - She turns to me again, giving me a once-over so quick I nearly miss it. - You look good, too. How have you been?

- Yeah, good. Good. Busy. Yeah, you know, busy as a bee, always a lot to do. You know the drill, the grind never stops. - Jesus, shut up . - Erm, how about you?

She chuckles at my fumbling answer, and once again I wonder what on Earth has caused her to change her mind. After almost a year and a half without seeing or speaking to each other, learning from Marlene in bits and pieces that Lily was apparently moved on since she was actively dating again, I never imagined us back being together in the same room if not for obligatory reasons. I never would have expected her to come after me at the end of Sirius and Lizzie's wedding. I didn't even expect her to read my letter, if I'm being honest. Was that what turned the tide in my favour? Was that very short and artless piece of paper the reason for her to decide to give this another go?

I have no idea, and it makes me more anxious. I don't really know what's going on in her mind, because surprise surprise , I've never bothered to really learn how to read her and the subtleties that make her thought process.

The blame is on me, as with everything else.

- I'm good, also busy. - She shifts, putting her jacket on, then looks at me expectantly. - Shall we?

I hadn't even noticed it's gotten colder. Only by watching her do I finally pay attention to the goosebumps prickling at my skin with the chilly October wind. With an internal wince, I realise I forgot my coat at home. At least I brought my wallet. That I checked four times before I left, thank goodness, but apparently forwent all the other essentials.

I shake myself off and manage to nod, gesturing with a hand for her to go ahead.

- Which one is your car? - she asks, and I point to the parking spot across from us. A beat, and a chuckle follows. - Of course, an Aston Martin. How did I not guess? The most expensive car this street has ever seen.

She continues to laugh, clearly just teasing me, but my stomach somersaults. It's just a light joke, no jab intended, I can tell by her tone, yet it still makes me cringe at how posh I must look to her. What a privileged sod.

All I can do is smile semi-apologetically whilst rubbing my neck in a nervous move. Fortunately, we reach the car in the next moment and I hurry to open the door for her before going around to the driver's seat. As we sit side by side, her vanilla perfume hitting me at the same time as the heavy silence of a closed vehicle, my nerves jump skittishly once more.

A thought occurs to me that I might not survive tonight if my body keeps reacting to every little thing in this stupid frantic way. I've never experienced anything like this before, never acted so much like a scaredy-cat in my life, and it dawns on me as I put the belt on and start the engine that I don't know how to behave in such a situation. Since I can remember, I've always known how to carry myself, being able to talk myself out of basically anything, only needing to activate my fuck-boy charisma and bold personality to win those around me. Knowing this will not help me at all tonight, and having absolutely no clue as to what will, brings me right back to the verge of almost puking in my car.

I clear my throat once again, grateful that at least I don't need to look Lily in the eye as I drive away from her street in the direction of Nine Elms.

- So, erm… Have you ever been to Darby's before? I wasn't sure it was your type of cuisine.

A neutral topic. Well done, James.

- I haven't, but always wanted to. Lizzie loves it there. I'm glad you chose that restaurant, I'm looking forward to it.

Relief mixed with satisfaction for getting her approval swarms in. I nod, still looking ahead but acutely conscious of every movement she makes next to me. I take a left turn, and go at it again.

- So busy at work, you said?

Couldn't get more neutral than that if I wanted to. It's lame and particularly unoriginal, but I'm out of depth here. I'm grasping at straws to try and keep this in line.

I see her firmly shake her head in the affirmative with the corner of my eyes.

- Urgh, so much, you have no idea. It's always like this when the year starts drawing to an end. Courts get overloaded, and so do us. Solicitors, I mean. It's like the clients want to make sure that we've worked enough to justify the amount of money they pay us, you know, so they just drown us in –

I keep nodding as she goes on explaining the intricacies of the legal profession, paying close attention to what she says so I don't miss anything important. I'm also keenly aware of every movement in the streets we pass by, driving with more caution than I've ever done since getting the licence. By the time we arrive at the restaurant, I've spent so much energy ensuring that the way there went smoothly, I don't compute the cold wind anymore.

I'm sweating profusely.

I hide it well enough, I reckon, walking a respectful distance from Lily as we near the establishment's entrance. I hold the door open for her before greeting the maître.

- A reservation for two. Potter, James Potter.

As the gentleman checks his chart, I notice Lily chuckling lightly and my gaze catches hers, flashing in amusement. It takes me a while to remember the ongoing joke about me introducing myself, and Zeus, as James Bond would. This time, I can't appreciate the humour behind it, though I pretend I do. I give her a closed-lip smile and twist back to the man in front of us.

- Yes, I have it. Right this way, please.

We follow the maître across the restaurant to a secluded corner, the best table of the place. I had explicitly requested that one when I called them last week, knowing it would allow us more privacy. When Lily is seated, I take my own chair and abruptly find myself staring at green eyes.

Butterflies rage in my insides, and I clear my throat for the thousandth time in the last twenty minutes. Reaching for the menu the man had left for us, I look determinedly away.

- Erm, maybe we can start with wine? They have great options here. – It occurs to me then that maybe Lily doesn't like wine. Have I ever seen her drink it? Cocktails, yes. Beer, too. Wine? My head draws a blank and yet another uneasy feeling takes hold of me. – We don't have to, though. They have other good drinks. Erm, let's see. Do you have a preference? Just tell me and-

- Wine's great. – Glancing up, I'm met with a graceful smile. – What's your favourite?

At the moment, I can't remember. But I make an effort, looking down again and taking a few beats to reply.

- Uh, not a favourite, but L'oppidum 2015 is supposed to be really good. I, uh, I heard good things.

- Sounds perfect.

My nod is mechanical and, when the waiter arrives to take our drink orders, my voice can only be described as squeaky. After he's gone, I smile awkwardly at her before burying myself back in the menu. If I were a lesser man, I'd probably just go ahead and throw in the towel already, running away from the restaurant without a look back. Because this is going bad.

Really bad.

Lily's charming, and sweet, and perfectly casual, while I'm the cringiest date in recorded History. I've never felt so insecure in my life and it shows. I'm positive she realises I'm a wrecked ball of nerves. But, if she does, she doesn't let on. She talks as if nothing is the matter and as if this is a normal first date between two people with no complicated past whatsoever.

- I know this is a random question, but do you speak French? It did sound like it by the way you pronounced the name of the wine.

- Er, I do. I learned it in secondary school.

- Aha. Of course you did. Can't imagine Euphemia Potter allowing her boy to go traipsing around the world without speaking a fancy second language.

I can't help but chuckle. She's not wrong, is she?

- Well, we all did though. Me and the lads. In the boarding school we went together. French was mandatory.

- Hm, my condolences. It must've been a difficult time for you wee boys.

Without meaning, a laughter spills out of me.

- Come on, French's not that bad. Do you speak another language other than English?

- Yeah, Spanish. – She bats her eyes. – Much nicer, if you ask me.

- Oh, is it?

- Of course. For one, you can actually put vowels together and make sense of the words you're reading. – I laugh again, and she shrugs. – Also, it doesn't make me look like a bee stung my lips and I need to stick them forward at all times as if my life depended on it.

She joins in when I chuckle once more, and when the waiter comes back with our wine, we busy ourselves with selecting the food. We decide to share the salt marsh lamb, and as the man leaves and she immediately starts with another question, my anxiety finally takes a back seat.

She asks about my mum and dad, and how it was to study abroad for so long, so far away from home at such a young age. Then, she confides in me about her rocky relationship with her older sister, Petunia, and how their mother is her biggest role model. When I recount some of my and the lads' shenanigans as teens, she rolls her eyes and banters with me like she used to. She makes fun of The Marauders , but beams when speaking of Sirius and how he is with Elizabeth. She tells me at length about her childhood friends and her hometown. Later, we talk about Remus and how healthy he's been of late, and spend a good ten minutes laughing at how Marlene got so hammered the weekend before, at Sirius and Lizzie's party, she could barely stand upright by the end of it.

Food's over and we're on our third glass, waiting for dessert, my mind sufficiently buzzed to give way to a warm, relaxed feeling, shooing any nervousness away – and that's when she speaks again.

- So, erm, who's Julie?

- Hm?

- Julie – she repeats, face impassive as she swirls her red wine in one daft hand. – The girl you left with that night. You mentioned her last Sunday. So I was just curious as to who exactly she is, and, uh, what she means to you.

In one split second, every sense in me stands to attention as the easiness vanishes altogether.

Apprehension tightens my spine.

- Oh, Julie. Erm…

I'm immediately at a loss for words, and can hardly meet her eyes. I shift uncomfortably in my chair, searching for the right way to answer this loaded question. I had indeed expected us to breach the topic of all the shit that went down between us eventually , but as the hours passed in light, cordial atmosphere, I guess I fell to the trap of feeling too confident in the familiar dynamic that Lily and I always had; we always knew how to chat and have fun together, regardless of the context. That hasn't changed either, but it doesn't mean it's all roses because of it.

I don't know what to say, and wouldn't even in a hundred years, but the one thing I know is that I owe her honesty after everything.

So there it goes.

- Julie's an old friend – I begin, forcing myself to look at her despite the way it makes me feel bloody weak. – We met a long time ago, at uni, and sorta kept in touch. Not a lot, just… Just here and there. I mean, we're not real friends, but we get along. She joins the lads and I once in a while when we bump into each other in London. – Lily nods briefly, and I know she needs more than that. I let out a sigh and forge ahead. – We also, uh, you know, went out together a few times. Me and her. Not often, but whenever we accidentally ran into each other. We had done that since uni. Gotten together, I mean. Erm, it was never something serious and it didn't mean anything, we were just, uh, like friends with benefits. Kinda.

God, what a stumbling explanation. Lily keeps on nodding, encouraging me to go on, but there's literally nothing I'd like to talk about less than the present topic. Why the fuck did I mention the girl in our talk last weekend? It's like I'm setting myself for failure. Just the reminder of how I acted that night, how not only I made myself leave with Julie even though all I wanted was to take Lily home, but especially how I paraded her in front of Lily, purposefully letting her know that I was going to have sex with another woman, manages to make the puking urge return in force.

I wish I never had to be reminded of all the ways I've hurt her. I wish we could pretend I never did any of the things I did. I wish we could really start over, so that I could be a good man who treated her right from the beginning.

Having to face your shortcomings, and foul past mistakes, demands much more than just a willingness to better yourself. It demands a sort of courage I'm not sure I have.

But I do try.

- That night, er, I hadn't planned to meet her at the pub. Definitely not. I'd spent the past several hours focused on you, I hadn't even noticed she was there. But then, uh, I talked to Sirius, and he, well, he told me to behave myself and be careful with you, and I guess it just- it pushed all the wrong buttons in me. So I decided to take a walk to clear my head, smoke a fag, and when I was coming back inside I ran into her. We started talking and she's, uh, she immediately started flirting with me, so I thought, erm, I thought that was a good way out.

Lily cocks a flawless eyebrow at this, and I take a sip of wine for strength before continuing.

- You know, to detach myself from you. To not let what was happening between us actually take form. Or rather… - I grimace as I add this last part. – To just make sure that you didn't raise your expectations, so no one could blame me for, you know, leading you on.

A beat passes in silence before she replies.

- Which you already had done by then.

- Yeah.

- And continued to do so in the following many months.

- Yeah.

- So, in reality, it was everything but a way out.

- Yeah.

I'm prepared to go and drown myself inside my wine glass when suddenly I discern the amusement in her voice. I look up and a half-smile plays on her lips.

She's baiting me.

- I gotta say, for an experienced manwhore you should've had better game, James. It's honestly disappointing.

- Whatever you say, Evans – I tell her with an eye-roll, but my spine relaxes. I shrug as I think about my next words. – But you're not wrong. And that's why I'm officially retired as a manwhore. For good.

Her mood shifts into one of quiet satisfaction.

- Good to hear that. – She grins, and asks her final question. – So… there's really nothing between the two of you? You and that Julie?

- There's nothing between me and anyone that's not you, Lily. You can be certain of that.

---

I couldn't find a parking spot close to her street this time around, so we leave my car a couple of blocks down and walk together to her flat. It works in my favour; I'm nervous all over again.

Not because of the way dinner ended. It actually did on a high note. We were both in a good mood after I paid for the meal and she told me she wouldn't even pretend to fight me on that, and I told her she was a clever girl which got her to beam at me, and then we departed the restaurant feeling quite pleased for having had an arguably good time on our very first official date.

The problem arose during the drive, when it dawned on me that the night was over and I had no idea when I was going to see Lily again. The mere possibility of her not wanting to go out with me for a second date got me straight into panicky mode.

So the walk helped me organise my thoughts and once more dive into the calculations of what to do to get her to agree to another evening with me. Would dinner again be boring? Or would it be better to recommend we watch something together in the theatres? That's also boring, though. I should definitely step up my game if I want to make it impossible for her to say no. But I can't gamble too much, can I, so dinner is certainly the safer option. Maybe I should just-

- This is me.

We'd arrived at her front door and I almost marched past it.

I stop in my tracks and turn around to face her.

She peeks up at me, her green eyes twinkling as our gaze meets, and my entire mid-section feels like it's being sucked in. It's as if I'm going down on a rollercoaster at full speed, and my every inner organ is being rearranged in the process. I've never felt this way before, and I know for a fact, if I hadn't already before, that I'm in love with her.

Perhaps not the best realisation to have at the end of a first date.

I definitely will not be telling her that.

Which brings me back to the core of the issue – what will I be telling her? I need to say something but all I can do at the moment is stare back into the depths of her mesmerising emeralds and forget everything I've ever known. I can't seem to make myself open my mouth and proceed to guarantee our next date. Fortunately, because if anything I am a lucky bastard, she does it for me.

- So… What are you up to next weekend?

It shouldn't be this easy. I shouldn't have everything handed to me on a silver platter, especially not after the way I treated her. I should be working relentlessly around the clock to convince her to go out with me again, and she should be making my life a living hell before she finally gives in.

It shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't. But I won't complain that it is.

- Taking you out again – I reply, and it's the closest I've gotten the whole evening to being smooth.

Lily's mouth curves in a smile, and it's so sexy I feel my knees going a little wonky.

- Sounds like a plan – she says, and tilts her head. Sexy, sexy, sexy. – Text me?

- Definitely . A hundred percent. I will be doing that without a shred of doubt.

Smoothness is long gone. It doesn't matter; Lily laughs at my gracelessness, and it's all I want to hear.

- Okay, then.

- Okay.

We stare at each other for another beat before I nod one more time, and take a step back. She waves goodbye, still smiling, and goes inside while I watch. I wait for a few moments, heart still beating erratically, then turn around to walk away, my hand immediately going to my front pocket.

He picks up on the first ring.

- Tell me everything.

- Fuck, Pads, I think I'm gonna throw up.

- Oh, shit. Was it that bad?

- No, it was amazing. I mean, I was ridiculous. Literally the worst dating partner in the world, but she was amazing. And we talked like old times, you know, and it was good. I think. Especially the second half of the dinner. And the most important thing is that we're going out again. She told me to text her so we can see each other again next weekend.

- Fuck yeah, mate.

I exhale deeply, closing my eyes as I walk, finally letting my guard down.

- I just- it was hard, Pads. I almost freaked out for real. I didn't know what to do with myself half of the time.

- That's normal, James. You really want this to work, that's why you feel like this.

- Is that how you felt taking Lizzie out?

He pauses, and I hear a faint sound of the ocean in the background. Lizzie and he are still somewhere in Greece for their honeymoon, but he had told me to phone him as soon as the date was over, that he'd be on call however late that was.

- Well, maybe not the first few times. I mean, I didn't know she was the one until later. But after I had this realisation I sure started taking things more seriously.

- Have you ever felt like you were about to throw up before one of your dates?

- Erm, not really.

I sigh, and take the final street to where my car is parked.

- Yeah, Pads. That's the thing. I already fucked this up almost beyond repair. I'm scared shitless of losing her again. It's literally crippling me.

- Come on, James. You won't lose her this time. You've learnt your lesson. Just take a deep breath and be yourself. – He pauses once more, and I just know what he's about to say. And I'm right. – Well, maybe not yourself yourself. Someone slightly better, you know. At least for now.

I snort, and feel marginally less nauseous.

- Yeah, that's exactly the point. But you know what, it doesn't matter. I survived and secured a second date. That's all that matters for now.

- You bet it is. Well done, mate. I'm really happy to hear it.

So am I, but that doesn't mean I'm less anxious about the whole thing. I still have a long way to go to make sure she's mine and I'm hers. For as long as she'll want it.

Finishing my call with Sirius, I get into my car and drive home determined to figure out my next step. With a beer in hand, sat on the sofa, I plunge in. On Tuesday, I message her. I had wanted to do it earlier, but this time around it took me longer to find a good restaurant that still had a table available for a Friday reservation. I'd decided to go with another dinner date, because I didn't intend to wait another entire week to see her again; I was also going to steal her Saturday.

Which is what I tell her in front of her apartment complex right before letting the night reach its end. It was a smart move; it made me overall less nervous knowing I had something to do before bidding her goodbye again. The evening had gone well, a simple meal at a nice but not as fancy restaurant as the previous one. I still had been quite tense, but gladly allowed her to guide our interactions once more, as she is so skilful to do. She still seemed relaxed and content to just be there with me, and that helped more than anything else.

But as the night drew to an end, the uneasiness crept up on me again and it's a good thing I had something to anchor myself in.

- Thank you for dinner, James. I had a great time.

- I'm glad you liked it. And I hope you're ready for a repeat tomorrow. I mean, of sorts.

- What?

I try my best smile, though I imagine it still comes off a bit shaky.

- I got tickets for Mamma Mia! the musical. Marlene mentioned you wanted to watch it.

When I say Marlene mentioned it, I actually mean I called the bird last week and demanded her help in finding something cool to which to take Lily, and didn't hang up until she gave me a good enough idea.

- You did? – Lily creaks, high-pitched, and I know Marlene hit gold.

- Yes. If you're free tomorrow, I mean.

- I am!

She almost bounces on the pavement, obviously excited at the prospect. My chest warms at the sight.

- Good. So I'll pick you up at, say, six thirty? We can eat something afterwards.

- Yes, yes, great!

- Okay. Then see you tomorrow, Lily.

- See you tomorrow, James.

I wait again for her to close her door before I head toward my car. I can't help the big relieved smile that blooms on my face. So far, I'm doing okay. I'm not fucking this up. She's still wanting this with me.

It's a good feeling and it soothes me at night. And during the next day until I'm ringing her bell again.

This night, she's more dressed up than the previous two evenings we went out together, certainly wanting to look the part at the West End theatre in high heels and a cocktail dress. She looks stunning as usual, with her incandescent hair down and wildly framing her gorgeous face, and as usual it takes me a beat to get my shit together and greet her politely. Despite my nerves, I'm looking forward to tonight, and I can't wait to spend the next many hours next to her.

Marlene hadn't exaggerated; Lily is a big fan of ABBA. She sings along to almost every number of the two-and-a-half hours long musical, clapping enthusiastically after each choreography. I fairly enjoy myself as well, having more fun inside a theatre than I ever remember having before. But, perhaps, that's just because of the company.

- Oh my God, this was so good! Honestly! Mamma Mia! is just timeless, isn't it? And the songs! People will be singing ABBA a hundred years from now, you can bet on that.

- I'm not disagreeing with you, but I just gotta say it's like a crime against humanity that they didn't include Fernando . It's ABBA's best song!

Lily laughs loud and rich, throwing her head back, her arm brushing against mine as we walk side to side. It thrills me and makes me jittery in equal measure.

- You're not wrong, James, but the show's good with or without it. God, it was amazing! Thank you so much for bringing me.

- My pleasure.

We grab a bite at the kebab in the corner, and it's easy. I feel less stilted or pressured to make a good impression. We sit closer to each other than the two times before, in the small shop, and every time our elbows touch a wave of electricity zaps through me. I'm engrossed in our conversation, but I also can't help glancing at her mouth more often than strictly necessary. Now that I'm getting more comfortable in her presence again, the old flames of my desire come raging to life once more.

I reel it in, behaving myself and trying to act like a gentleman. I take her home, and don't presume anything.

- I was thinking a day programme next time, what do you think? Are you free next Saturday during the day?

- Er, yeah, sure. I mean, I might have some work to do for a couple hours, but I'm sure we can find time in between.

- Great. So it's set. I'll text you tomorrow with a few options, and you let me know which one you-

I'm halfway to taking a step back, ready to bid her goodbye the same way I've done the past weeks, when a hand in my Oxford shirt halts me in place. My words trip over each other, and I stare at Lily, suddenly very close to me again.

- None of that, James - she says and pulls at the fabric. - Come here.

I fall into her, and my mouth meets hers. At long last.

Some say a third date always warrants a first kiss. Considering we've kissed before and we're anything but a normal couple dating, I hadn't let myself hope. I hadn't even been certain I was ready to kiss her again. It still feels like I have so much to achieve first.

It doesn't change the fact that the second her lips press against mine, my body reacts as if it had been dormant, waiting for this sublime moment. My hands encircle her body as I deepen the kiss, tongue furiously dancing with hers, never mind we're in the middle of the street. I can't think clearly anymore. I missed her so damn much.

We stay intertwined for long minutes, mouths slanting, getting reacquainted with each other's tastes. It's the best thing I've done in recent times, and too soon she draws back.

She hums, putting her arms around my waist in a loose embrace.

- That's better. You keep leaving before we can properly say goodbye. Not cool.

I chuckle, looking down at her, nearly a foot shorter than me, and bringing my thumbs up to caress her flushed cheeks.

- I didn't want to presume.

- What, that I was interested? That boat has sailed, mister, I'm sorry to inform you.

- No, silly – I chuckle again. – That we were there already. You know, in the first-base stage.

- Again, that boat has already sailed.

- You know what I mean. After all, weren't we supposed to start off as just friends?

- We were. And we are. I just thought, you know… Snogging is also a fun, friendly activity to do after some good food.

That makes me laugh. But she could be singing Ave Maria and I'd be ready to cackle, because my chest is just bursting with joy at the moment.

- Whatever you say, Evans.

She smiles, well pleased, getting on her tiptoes one more time to give me a last kiss before stepping back.

- Text me?

- Definitely.

---

I keep glancing at the door and everyone notices. I mean, I'm not being discreet.

Sirius rolls his eyes for the hundredth time, though I know he finds it as amusing as Peter, who snickers at my direction every now and then. Remus, on the other side of the living room, absorbed in conversation with the Prewett brothers, smiles knowingly each time our eyes meet.

It's the first week of November and we're celebrating Sirius' birthday. We'd decided to skip the pub celebration this year and just do it in my house, arguably the biggest of us four. We'd had lunch with my parents earlier in the day, and now we're enjoying quite a loud party at Covent Garden. The usual friends are invited and some of Sirius' coworkers too, and of course the girls. Marlene and Lizzie were among the firsts to arrive, and are currently transforming the space between the corridor to the kitchen and the sitting room into a makeshift dancefloor.

Lily's not here yet.

She had messaged me to say she was on her way with Cassandra, but that was a good half an hour ago. Despite trying my best to just chill and enjoy the evening, I'm anxious to have her around again.

We've been seeing each other for almost a month now. After our first three dates, the days got mixed up as we started to meet during the week as well, for a random coffee or pastries, and more than once on the weekends. My insecurities dwindled together with the awkwardness that stood out in our initial attempt at being together, and our encounters lately have been a blur of pleasant chat and a lot of snogging.

It's good. It's so good that I miss it, and her, the very second we are apart. Like presently, where I'm a wreck of nervous energy and longing.

Where the hell is she?

Tonight will be the first night we'll be out together as a couple in front of everyone. So far we've preferred to keep to ourselves, using each spare moment to meet just the two of us, no other parties involved. Not that we're trying to make this a secret; we don't care about that, we'd just rather spend every single available second with each other without having to divide our attention. But it's Padfoot's birthday, and we'd both be here with all of our friends, so it doesn't make sense to try to hide it.

They all know it, anyway.

Aside from Sirius, who lived vicariously through every recounting of our slow but steady progress, from our talk at his wedding to our first date and the following weeks, Remus and Peter were also quickly updated. After the second consecutive Friday I failed to appear at The Nags, much preferring to see Lily instead, the lads called me to ask what was up. They already knew about pretty much everything leading to the wedding, so I only had to explain a few more things until they were all caught up. Naturally, Lizzie was right there with Sirius during each development and so was Marlene, my wingman. And if I had to bet, Cassandra knows more from Lily than all of us combined.

Though Lily did mention they were going through a rift. Something to do with her not telling Lily about the night I approached her last year and begged her to get me in touch with her best friend, but we haven't dwelled on the topic. Lily was never particularly inclined to talk about it, and I've respected her reticence.

Moreover, I told my parents we were starting over, Lily and I, and that we were taking it slow; I was very strict with Mum when I told her to hold her horses and not even dream of inviting Lily for any family function just yet. She was extremely put off but acquiesced. As for the rest of the party, other friends and eventual colleagues, it makes no difference in my life whether they know about us or not. I just miss her, and want to see and talk to her again, the people around us be damned.

And I'm not the only one.

It's funny, and frankly heartwarming, that when the door finally swings open, Remus having done it for me from his spot closer to the entrance, and Lily steps through it looking like (and overall just being) the woman of my dreams, I'm not the one to first react.

- Zeus, no!

Too late, mate. My dog is on top of her before the sentence's over.

She goes down laughing and he takes the opportunity to slurp his tongue left and right on her face, his massive paws caging her in on the floor. I make my way fast through the living room and pull at his collar.

- Zeus, enough. Down.

I know she doesn't mind, but I'd prefer that her first visit back to my flat after so long didn't feature her sprawled on the ground. At least not like this. I do have better plans for tonight.

- Oh my God, my baby darling. I've missed you too! - Lily manages to sit but doesn't let go of Zeus, kissing him repeatedly on his forehead and flappy cheeks. - How's the goodest boy in London doing? Is your daddy treating you like you deserve? Like the best, goodest boy in all of London?

Zeus is over the moon with the attention. His short tail wiggles so hard I'm genuinely worried he'll earn himself happy tail syndrome. But he couldn't care less; he's beyond excited to see Lily again after almost a year and a half.

So am I, boy, so am I.

After several minutes, I finally convince Lily to stand, one strong hand wrapped around hers to steady her up. Zeus bounces around, still trying to monopolise her, but her eyes are all mine now.

- Hi there.

- Hey.

She grins and leans in to greet me with a kiss. It's only a brief touch of mouths, something modest, but it works to make my chest instantly pulsate in elation. We look at each other for a beat, smiling, before I glance away towards Cassandra who, after chatting in passing with Remus, is now just staring at us, unimpressed.

- Thompson.

- Potter.

If the girl's approval wasn't so important to Lily, and therefore me, I'd have thought the situation laughable. It's obvious she loathes me. She eyes me next to Lily, my right arm having found refuge around her best friend's shoulders, and her lips flatten in distaste. I know she was the biggest opposer of Lily giving me another chance, although Lily never tells me all the details surrounding her decision making. There's no need for that; I've already got it first-hand from Cassandra herself a long time ago - she doesn't think I deserve Lily, and she's not wrong. But I'm not going to back away again, so she'll just have to deal with it.

And she knows it. And absolutely hates it.

It's blatant how she doesn't even try to hide her dislike for me, and in normal situations I'd find it amusing, and probably would take the opportunity to poke fun at her or throw in a sarcastic remark. I won't do such a thing, though. It doesn't even cross my mind. I don't need Cassandra to like me, but I certainly don't want her ready to rip my head off at any moment's notice or to keep fighting Lily over it.

We need peace, and we need to move on. And, above all, Lily needs her dearest friend's support.

- It's nice to see you again - I say, cordial, actually meaning it. - How are you doing?

- Fine. Where's Black? I got him a gift.

She doesn't wait for my answer, walking away in the general direction of the kitchen and leaving us unceremoniously behind. Lily purses her mouth, looking at me apologetically.

- Sorry about that. You know she's a tough nut.

- That's okay - I reply, giving her a peck on the cheek. - I just feel bad for being the cause of you two fighting.

- It's not on you. Not this. Cassandra has her issues and I needed to establish some boundaries. It was a long time coming, in any case.

I nod in understanding, not knowing what else to say. One day we will be able to talk about this more freely, and I can try and get more information out of Lily, but this day is not today.

- Come on, let's go see everybody.

We make rounds across the party, Zeus on our heels sniffing Lily's ankles the entire time, as we greet the people in attendance. I introduce Lily to a couple of friends she hadn't met yet and make sure to whisk her quickly away from Fabian, the bloody flirt, before settling within our usual circle.

- Looking good, Lily. I've heard this week's been harsh on you at work, yet you look nothing like it.

- Thanks, Sirius. It's this miraculous little thing called make-up, you should try it sometime. - Our group of friends laugh at her comeback while she enlaces a hand around Padfoot's elbow, shaking her head. - I'm joking. Thank you, Sirius. I feel good, despite the hectic days. It's all good with me, fortunately.

- Of course it is, babe. When you're happy, everything else falls into place - Lizzie chirps, sending pointed looks at both me and Lily, a pleased smile on her face.

Very subtle.

I see Cassandra roll her eyes but the rest of us just grin right back, not disagreeing with her. I know I've never been happier in my life, and I do hope Lily feels the same. I'm confident we're going on the right path, taking it easy but steady. Each time we meet another intrusive chunk of anxiety and uncertainty falls away, and I can finally be the best version of myself with her.

It's how it was supposed to be since the beginning; if only I hadn't complicated everything and nearly destroyed us.

The reminder gives me the chills and I need to forcibly push the thought away. It's bloody hard, but I've become a sort of an expert on it lately.

Tonight we're supposed to celebrate. And I can't lie, I do enjoy being out in public with her. There's no way I can ignore the swell of pride ticking inside of me as we meander back and forth in the party with my arm possessively around her, or the petty satisfaction I feel when I take note of the stinky eye Fabian sends my way when he realises Lily's taken. It's thrilling, and it surprises me how much I like it.

During my fuck-boy era, e.g. between the tender age of fourteen and the previous summer, I had put in my head that I wasn't ready to settle down; that relationships weren't really my thing. I had never taken the time to seriously pounder if I ever wanted to have a partner in the future with whom I would form a family, but what I did tell myself was that I didn't want to chain myself to anyone anytime soon, and a big part of it was that I fancied myself a ''free spirit,'' unable and unwilling to be the one lagging behind some woman wherever we went, like a loser.

Ha.

No need to point out who's the actual loser in that story.

Because there's no way this can get any better, as I follow Lily like a lost pup around my living room, completely delighted and fulfilled in my role tonight. If not due to my stupidity that almost led to me losing her, for which I'm fervently trying to compensate now, certainly because she's such a perfect ten. Good-spirited, quick-witted and drop-dead gorgeous, this woman is the single most entertaining guest I've ever had, and it's a relish to introduce her to my acquaintances and see them all become instantly captivated by her (and be low-key proud of me for having scored such a catch).

As such, the night flies by and we have a great time together, the eight of us, for the first time in long, long months. When everyone else is gone, it's only the lads and the girls, and we drop on the sofas for one last drink like we used to do before, Zeus happily napping on top of Lily's thighs.

- So… - Peter starts and I brace myself because he's looking at mine and Lily's direction with a speculative glint in his eyes. - What are you exactly? Have you already decided on a label?

- Shut up, Worms, they don't need a label - Remus drawls, kicking Peter lightly in the shin.

- But labels are helpful! - the poor bloke tries to defend himself.

I snort and tighten my hold around Lily's waist. When Peter continues to stare at me expectantly, I shrug.

- Don't look at me, mate, look at her. She's the one calling the shots here.

- You guys are silly - Lily retorts, rolling her eyes, but she also chuckles. - Like Remus said, there's no need for labels. But if anyone's asking… - She shrugs too, looking up at me. - We're just dating, right?

I mean, I would be down to get married tomorrow, but sure, we're just dating.

- We definitely are.

- You know, getting to know each other better - she adds.

It's Cassandra's turn to snort.

- Know each other better? Three years and you still don't know each other? Wow, how brilliant.

Lily immediately stiffens in my arms, but I press a gentle kiss against her temple, once more shrugging with nonchalance.

- Yeah, that's right. It's taking us a little longer, but that's okay. We'll get there.

Cassandra shoots daggers at me.

Everyone in the house knows why it's taking so long; everyone's aware that I was the one who fucked up and put everything at risk. There's no point in repeating it all again, or rather pretend it isn't the case. They all saw us falling apart and now falling back together. They're our best friends and there's no reason to hide anything from them, or to start walking on eggshells. Cassandra might think it's bullshit, and that I shouldn't be given another chance, but that's not her decision to make. She should've learnt it already. The only thing she's achieving with her attitude is making it awkward for all of us.

Though she's not really. Nobody seems to actually care.

- Stop being annoying, Cass - Marlene huffs, and I see both Lizzie and Sirius roll their eyes at the dark-skinned girl's insistence in calling me out. Remus and Peter don't even react, currently bickering with one another about something or other. - Can we just chill right now?

It's exactly what we proceed to do, and I can't explain how grateful I am that everyone else is so understanding. Again, they shouldn't be; it shouldn't be this easy for me to paddle my way back to everyone's good graces after everything. They shouldn't be so quick in forgiving my shortcomings and somehow finding it fair that Lily's giving it another go. But I'll be damned if I ever complain that it is.

---

Naturally, I spoke too soon.

Everything's great, and easy, with us until they're not. And of course, as it's always the case, I'm the problem.

It starts only a few days following Sirius' birthday, roughly six weeks since our first date. It's a Wednesday and we'd gone to grab something to eat after work, and I drove Lily home afterward. We lingered in our goodbye, and before we knew it I was pressing her against the outside wall of her building.

I kiss her like a starved man, my hands clasping at her waist as if wanting to imprint myself on her. She gives it back with the same enthusiasm, rubbing her front against mine. We've gotten carried away like this a few times before, losing ourselves in the moment and snogging a little too hard in the middle of her street. And after each time, we'd manage to sober up after a while, stepping back and finally telling each other goodnight. Tonight, though, Lily has other plans.

- Do you wanna come up?

- Hm?

I'm too far gone, and don't compute what she says. She needs to swerve her face to the side, letting me kiss her neck instead, and repeat herself.

- Let's go upstairs. I know we have to wake up early for work tomorrow, but I don't really care.

And that's when my brain decides to activate and fuck my entire life.

In a blink of an eye, my body goes from turned on to ice cold. My spine tautens and suddenly anxiety is the only thing I can feel. I draw back, removing my mouth and hands completely from her, and just stare, heart beating thunderously inside my chest.

- What? - she asks, confused with my reaction.

I don't know exactly, but what I do know is that the idea of going upstairs, and what this would certainly entail, makes me panic. I have no clue why, but it does, and I can't formulate an answer. I just shake my head, attempting to reel myself in, to return to my mood of before, but it doesn't work.

I start hyperventilating.

- James, are you alright?

I keep shaking my head, stepping back until I'm a whole foot away from her.

- I'm okay - I manage to push out, clearing my throat from the lump that's formed there. - I just- I don't- that's not a good idea.

- What, going upstairs? Why not?

She frowns, and looks at me like I'm crazy. And I think I am. What the hell is happening with me? Why am I reacting like this? Having sex with Lily is literally everything I've ever wanted for the past many years, why is it freaking me out?

- I don't- I- I don't think that- Sorry, I'm feeling a little weird right now.

- That's okay, that's totally fine. Just- just breathe.

Lily's closed the gap between us, and she places a reassuring hand on my forearm, willing me to calm down. It only makes everything worse, because how pathetic do I look right now? Having an anxiety attack in front of the girl I'm seeing for six weeks just because she suggested we go upstairs to become intimate?

Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?

I inhale and exhale several times, wholly ashamed of myself but unable to act any different. I swallow over and over again. It helps if I don't look at her, so I walk away, just to the curb of her street and back, eyes closed and carefully controlling my breathing. I try not to think about how stupid I look, and after a few moments I begin to feel better. I stop walking with my back to her, hands balling into fists as I recover. When I finally open my eyes, it takes every inch of bravery instilled somewhere deep in my cells to turn around and face her.

I've never felt so embarrassed in my life. I've never lost control like this, and I certainly never freaked out at the prospect of sex before. It's ridiculous, and all at once my worst fears assault me yet again as I wonder what that must have looked like to her; what she's going to think of me now.

When our eyes meet, I'm frightened out of my wits.

- I'm sorry, Lily, I have no idea what just happened. I'm so, so sorry. That won't happen again, I promise. I'm so sorry.

She's still frowning, and my apology doesn't seem to appease her.

Fuck.

Before I can go off again, she speaks.

- Was it because of me suggesting we go upstairs?

My jaw clenches and, as a distraction, I rub at my neck, trying to come up with a good explanation. Of course I fail.

- I don't- I- I think so? Maybe.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

- I'm sorry, Lily, I really-

- James, why are you apologising? There's nothing wrong with having a natural reaction about something you're not ready for. Because that's what this is, right? You're not ready for us to sleep together yet.

My entire face screws up at this. James Potter, not ready to have sex? What in the actual fuck? Is this real life? Is this perhaps that cosmic prank coming to bite me in the arse for really thinking I would get away with everything I've done and still get Lily? Not one shot in hell, mate.

Christ.

- James, look at me - she urges me and I do, using every leftover of my willpower. Lily's face has softened again, directed at me with a calm expression. - It's okay. There's no reason to feel bad about it.

- It's not okay, Lily. What are you talking about? I'm a grown man having a fucking anxiety attack about the mere idea of sex. It's utterly pathetic. You can't seriously think it's not.

- It's not pathetic. You're just not ready for it. It's perfectly normal-

- Not ready for sex ? Jesus. - I force my eyes shut, pulling my specs up to rest on top of my head, and place my palms over my lids. I press hard, seeking some relief, not at all believing that this is happening to me. - Lily, this is not normal. It's pathetic. How can I be such a-

- If it was the other way around, would you also call me pathetic?

That gets my attention. I let my hands drop and stare at her, vision blurred without my spectacles.

- What do you-

- If I was the one not wanting to have sex with you, if I was the one telling you I was not ready yet for this next step. Would you think there was something wrong with me? Would you call me pathetic as well?

- Of course not, I-

- So there it is. Why is it different for you?

- Because I- I'm, you know…

- A man?

Well, yeah, but I can't say that, can I? Dropping my frames back in place, I can see her face clearly again and it's definitely not the answer she wants to hear. She purses her mouth in annoyance, and I wince.

- Lily, it's not-

- What? Sexism? Yes, it is. - She sighs, looking to the dark sky above us for a moment before zeroing in on me again. - James, don't do this. I know you don't think like that. I'd say I know you fairly well by now, and I've learnt that you're, well, a very complicated man, but you're not a misogynistic sod. If it was the other way around, this exact scenario, and I was the one telling you I was not ready to go to bed with you, and feeling anxious about it, there's no doubt in me you'd be one-hundred percent understanding, and that this wouldn't change how you feel about me in the slightest.

- Of course!

- So, please, don't go and start having double standards now. Just because you're a grown man does it mean you can't have fears, or worries? You can't feel anxious about things you can't control? - She tilts her head and goes for the jugular. - Just because you're a man does it mean that you'll always want sex, regardless of the circumstances?

- It's not just sex - I try, my voice low and uncertain. - It's sex with you , you know?

- Doesn't change anything. I know for a fact that there will be times in our relationship when I won't want to go to bed with you, because of something or other, and that's fine. It's not just because two people are together that they'll always be up for it. Surely you understand that?

- I do, it's just that…

Sex is one of the most important aspects of my life. It has always been. And I've always been good at it. I've always slept with precisely whom I wanted to sleep, I always performed exactly as I was supposed to perform, I always took so much pride in being above average. I know shit happens, and things don't go to plan every once in a while, but it has never happened to me. That has never ever been an issue, and the fact that it is now with the very person I care about the most, the woman who should be the one finally benefiting from all my whoring around, is such a cruel plot twist.

One I probably deserve, all things considered.

- I'm sorry, Lily - I say once again, defeated. - I just don't know how to feel about this. It's- it's too much right now. I think I should just go.

Her face falls, and I can see she wants to argue, but she doesn't. After a brief moment, she nods and takes a step back.

- Of course. I understand. - I hate the way her voice has gone all low and uncertain as well. All because of me. Because of my ridiculous behaviour. I want to punch myself in the face. - Just, please, James. Just- don't be too hard on yourself, okay? Don't beat yourself up for something that's absolutely normal.

Is it?

I don't know, and I can't process it right now. I need to be alone, and away from Lily, as insane as this may sound to my ears.

- Okay, Lily. I'm gonna go now.

- Text me?

She asks it as if there's any answer I can give other than -

- Definitely.

---

On Sunday Lily invites me to have a cup of tea with her, in her house. I've never been to her flat before, except by the outside door, and I can't ignore my curiosity. One of my biggest regrets during the time I was adamantly telling myself that she didn't mean anything to me, was that I never got to see the parts of her that made her : her home, her family, her past.

Since that disastrous Wednesday, our texting hasn't subdued; I still messaged her first thing in the morning and lastly before going to sleep. She's been understanding and given me space, but after four days without seeing each other, the longest we've gone since our first few dates, she's finally texted me to come over.

I had no reason to not say yes.

It's been hard, coming to terms with what's happened, but I've tried not to overthink it too much. It helped that I've been quite busy at work, but mostly that I knocked on Sirius' door the very next night and spent two hours pouring out every single insecurity that habited my body. My best friend was not impressed. After he had reminded me of the time in uni when he was disavowed by his own family and proceeded to go on two months physically unable to masturbate, I calmed down and finally took the seat he had offered when I arrived. We talked for hours, and the thing he stressed over and over again was that I needed to be patient, and kind with myself, and the unwitting reactions of my body. It's the one lesson he's learnt navigating all the crap that came intertwined with his surname.

I've been trying my best to do just that. It worked in my favour that I've basically lived in the office the past few days, whether on purpose or not. It's not easy to let go of all the preconceived notions that still plague my mind, but I'm ready to have an honest and open conversation with Lily.

So this time, when I ring the bell, she buzzes me in instead of coming out. I take a deep breath and ascend the stairs, step for step. She's waiting for me by the entrance door with a sweet smile on her face.

- Hi, James. - I come close and don't hesitate to capture her lips. Damn, I've missed her. As if reading my thoughts, she speaks against my mouth. - I missed you.

- Missed you, too, sweetheart. Sorry I've been such a prat.

- Don't say that, you haven't. Come, let's go in.

I walk behind her and take my first look into her flat.

It's the absolute opposite of mine. Whereas my apartment is large, plush and impersonal, hers is small, comfy and filled with life. In tones of beige and rose, her living room is the perfect size for a quiet sit down to enjoy a good chat or the rerun of your favourite show; the settee by the left seems to have been overused by Lily while doing just that. A large TV and even larger bookshelf decorate the wall next to the door and to the right side it's the kitchen, compact and ideal for a one-person flat. A fluffy crochet blanket is halfway from falling off the sofa, a plate of biscuits is already on top of the coffee table, a soothing R&B song is playing in the background.

It's warm and inviting, just like its owner.

- Do you have a preference for tea?

- Anything you have is fine.

- Okay. - Lily grins, and squeezes my forearm. - I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.

I do, taking the spot on the sofa closest to the settee, guessing the latter is where she'll choose to sit and not wanting to be too far away from her during this important conversation. I remove my phone, wallet and keys from my trousers' pockets, and place them on top of the table. Letting out a sigh, I force my body to relax and prepare myself for what's coming.

Lily returns with two steaming cups, grabbing a biscuit to hand me together with the herbal tea. I thank her and watch with a smile as she indeed takes the settee, recovering the blanket from its precarious position and wrapping it around her short, cute legs.

- Your house's lovely, Lily. Can't believe I've never been here before.

- Thank you. I can't believe it either. I've been to yours, like, a hundred times.

I take a bite of the chocolate-chips cookie and shrug.

- It was done on purpose. I always made sure to keep my distance, even when we saw each other every week and texted every goddamn day. That's how my weird brain worked. I suppose that not asking personal questions or visiting your house assuaged me that there was actually nothing serious going on between us.

Of all things, she snorts.

- That makes no sense. Boy math, I guess.

I snort too, finishing the biscuit.

- So, how have you been?

- Better than expected, to be honest. I've been burying myself in work, so I haven't had much time to think about- er, you know, my meltdown.

She hums, wrapping both of her hands around the hot mug and blowing on it.

- Have you not thought about it at all, then?

- I didn't say that. - I sigh again. - I have thought about it, but to be fair there's not much there to analyse.

- No?

- Nah. It's fairly straightforward. I freaked out because I'm absolutely terrified of fucking things up with you again. And I guess my brain has unconsciously made the connection that sex equals doom, and now I can't get past it.

- Oh?

- I'm sure you remember last time, well, the first and only time we slept together, everything went to shit immediately after. Of course I know it wasn't the sex itself the problem, but my own fucked-up relationship with it, but it doesn't matter either way. I've somehow associated getting intimate with you to losing you. So now I'm struggling to unlearn that.

Lily furrows her brows, and I can just see the engines of her enormous brain furiously grinding to try and make sense of what I'm saying.

It didn't take me long to get to this conclusion. Following my lengthy chat with Sirius, after which I luckily stopped thinking I was some sort of pathetic sod just because I couldn't go ahead with sex for the first time in my life, I managed to finally rationalise my reaction. I knew from the start that I was going to have trouble in making this work, this new chance with Lily; not because we aren't good together, but because I'm emotionally bruised.

Lily is the first woman I've ever loved romantically, and I lost her. I spent fourteen months in hell, painfully aware of my mistakes and hating myself for what I'd done. I felt like a failure, like a bad man. The fact that she's somehow come back to me doesn't erase what her absence caused, it doesn't erase how my own behaviour scarred me. She might've forgiven me, just like everybody else, but I haven't. And probably because of that, somewhere deep inside my conflicted, vulnerable self I'm petrified of making the same old mistakes again. What if, unlike what Sirius says, I haven't learnt my lesson? What if we sleep together and I panic again, and leave again ? What if I betray her, and myself, yet again, despite all my love for her?

I wish I could say I'd never do such a thing, but I honestly don't know. Before Lily, I would never have imagined I'd be the type of bloke that would treat a woman the way I treated her, and that's exactly what I did. I don't trust myself anymore, and the fact that she does in spite of everything makes it a thousand times worse, and the weight on my shoulders, and fear in my guts, triple.

I shift forward until my backside is on the edge of the sofa, so I can lean in to take away her mug, placing it next to mine on the coffee table, and grab her hands, trapping them between mine. My gaze is unwavering on hers.

- I'm going to be very honest with you right now, Lily, okay? - She nods, silent, and I bare my heart out. - I never expected you to come back to me. I have no idea why you did, but if it was that letter, I can tell you I most definitely did not write it with that intention. I had just wanted to apologise, that's all. I had given up hope a long time ago, and since I'm being honest, I gotta say I felt like that was the right thing. Me losing you, I mean. That's how it was supposed to be. I messed up, I behaved horridly, I lost you. Done. No more chances, no more excuses. That's how it should've gone, and I was okay with that. Even though it hurt like a motherfucker, I was at peace with that being the end of us. - Lily's frown is so pronounced her entire face is screwed as she stares unblinkingly at me. It pinches at my heartstrings to drop all of this on her, when we were going so well and she looked so happy whenever she was with me, but I don't see what else I can do at the moment. I sigh, and tighten my hold on her hands. - I'm not saying I'm not over the moon to have you back. Honestly, I… Lily, I've never been happier. You're everything I've ever dreamt and I really think we have something special here. I really do. It's just- it's just hard for me to accept that this is it. That I've done everything I did and still get to get away with it as if nothing happened, not just with you, with everybody. Except Cassandra, of course. - I snort, humourless. - But, in general, everything's back to normal. And, like, I'm thrilled that it is, don't get me wrong. I am. I just… I know I don't deserve it. Because, to be honest, I'm not even sure I'm a better man now. Even after everything. - I hesitate at that, hating to have to say the words, but knowing I need to. I look away, unable to keep my eyes locked with hers as I say it. - I just have this crippling fear that I'll do it all again. All the shit I put you through. That I'll fuck up again, and break your heart yet again. That we will have sex and I'll panic just like I did that night, and leave. And then what? What the fuck are we gonna do if this happens?

I bring my eyes back up just in time to catch Lily's fervent shake of head.

- You won't, James. I know you won't.

- You don't know that, Lily. I don't know that. Last time I- I was right in the middle of it. Everything was fine, I was feeling on top of the world for finally, finally having you. And you were so fucking beautiful, so- so glorious in that bed. It was the best night of my life. And then out of nowhere, literally nowhere, it's like a fuse switched off in me, and I don't know, I just- I went from ecstatic to panic-stricken. You were there kissing me and trying to get on with it, and I was just stuttering, completely terrified for nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just looked at you, and felt so strongly, so- so fucking much, and I didn't know what to do with it. It choked me. And that was then. Imagine now, that my feelings have grown even stronger. Who's to say I won't freak out even worse? What's gonna stop me from making the same mistake? How can you be so confident that I won't break your heart again?

- Because we're together now.

She says it with simplicity, as if it resolves all of our issues. As if it's the answer to all of my questions.

- Lily-

- Last time, we were both in denial. We were fighting this, these feelings we have for each other, and we were running in circles. We were not being honest, or nice, or even good to each other. But now we are. Aren't we?

I sigh.

- We are.

She squeezes my palms, her turn to scoot forward in the settee.

- James, you made a mistake. Many, yeah, I know. But you regretted it, you apologised, you're working hard to do differently this time around. What else should be expected of you? I forgave you, and even if that doesn't mean we should forget everything that happened, it also doesn't mean that I will hold the past against you. What's done is done. It doesn't matter anymore. And since you mentioned, I'm gonna tell you right now: I changed my mind and came back to you because you're worth it.

I'm the one shaking my head now.

- I'm not so sure about-

- Well, I'm the one who decides that. Not you, not Cassandra. - She tugs at my fingers, willing me to pay attention. - James, do you know what hurt me the most out of everything? It wasn't that you acted like a cad with me. I hated you for that, sure, but if it had been only that, you being a horrible person who trifled with my heart for your own amusement, it'd have been much easier to get over it. Because you wouldn't have mattered in the long run. A bad man does bad things, whatever, big surprise, let's move on. But, no, what hurt me the most and made it so fucking difficult to carry on, was that I knew you were not a bad man. You're a good man, James. I never doubted that, not for one second. You're an amazing friend, the best son, and you're so generous and genuine with everyone you know. You really are. And that's exactly what was so painful to accept, that you were so good with everyone else except me. What really broke my heart was that it was only to me that you were ever bad.

Before she's finished speaking, my eyes close forcefully, a hot wave of shame, guilt, regret and pure ache, all together and blended in an awful miscellaneous mix, hitting me square on the chest.

- Fuck. Lily, I'm so, so, so sorry. So fucking sorry. Please, forgive me. Please, I-

- I do. I already have - she whispers and suddenly her hands are removed from mine to, in the next moment, find shelter on my face. She cups my cheeks between her palms, and her breath tickles my nose as she continues to speak, now on her knees in front of me. - James, you made a mistake, but you're a good man. That's why you're worth it. That's why I came back to you. Do you understand that?

- I'm not-

- Say you understand. Come on, sweetheart.

I don't know if it's the endearment she uses for the first time, borrowed from me, or the echo of the words in Sirius' stern voice, be patient with yourself, be kind with yourself, be understanding with yourself as you are with others , but I find myself blindly nodding.

- Look at me, James.

I open my eyes and stare at bright emeralds.

- All I wanted was to start over. I'd had plenty of time to grieve and to think about what I'd have done differently. And now, I'm ready for it. I would've never gone after you and asked you out for a first date if I wasn't. If I hadn't gone through everything in my head, every little aspect of this, all these variables and complicated back-and-forth between us, all the nuances and the missteps and the mistakes. I weighed everything on a scale and I tirelessly debated with myself, like a good fucking lawyer, until I finally arrived at a conclusion. And that is that I want to be with you. I want to have you in my world, period. I think you're worth it and that you deserve me, and that I deserve you. This is all crystal clear in my head. - She pauses, sitting back on her heels to put some minor space between us. - But I understand that it might not be the same for you. You didn't have the same time to get emotionally ready to start this over, to begin our relationship again. So I'm guessing it must have indeed been quite the whiplash for you to get on board with everything overnight, especially when you're still recovering from all that happened. So I understand where you're coming from, I do.

- Lily, I just want to be with you, too - I say weakly, detesting the notion that she might not know this.

- I know, James, I know. But you have a lot of things to work out with yourself first. You not being ready for sex is not the root cause of anything, but only the visible side effect of all these unresolved issues you have with yourself. So you have to fix these first before we can even begin to think about the next steps.

- You mean stop dating?

Panic similar to what I felt when she invited me up storms violently in. I stare at her with wide eyes, heartbeats accelerating as sheer despair begins to take over me.

- No. No, of course not. Just- we'll just take it slow. No sex, no forcing anything. We'll go as we were, getting to know each other better, gradually, and perhaps talking a bit more about these, erm, delicate things.

- Yeah. Yeah, that sounds reasonable - I agree with her, exhaling in relief and willing my body to cool down.

I wonder if I'll ever have a normal reaction to the challenges of a relationship with Lily, without falling apart at every mere possibility of losing her. It sounds unfathomable to me, and it hits me that that's exactly what she means by me needing to figure my shit out first, otherwise this will never work.

I nod, inhaling in resolve, and lean in again, bringing our faces close once more.

- I will, sweetheart. I promise I'll work things out, and we will get through this together. Just- just hang on tight, with me, okay? Just a little more patience.

She smiles, something soft and tranquil, and brushes her lips against mine.

- What's that you always say? Definitely .

---

Despite my worries, things didn't change much after our talk. We still saw each other a couple of times a week, at least once for dinner and sometimes to walk around London hand in hand or just watch the telly together as an excuse to spend more hours with one another in close proximity. Lily came to my place often, to Zeus' eternal delight, but I also started frequenting her flat quite regularly. I liked it there. It calmed me, and it was near perfection to sit flush against each other on her sofa, under her fluffy crochet blanket and watching her tawdry yet oddly entertaining reality shows. We showed our faces at The Nags a few times, too, officially consecrating our relationship before everyone that matters, namely our friends and the pub.

On the occasions we were by ourselves, we tended to kiss a lot, and most times it inevitably became too heated, but Lily never pushed, nor did I. She usually pulled back after a while, and I appreciated it more than I could admit. I know deep down that if she wished, and asked for it, I'd go all the way. Especially when we were at each other's houses, with all the privacy and horizontal surfaces available. I doubt I'd have the presence of mind to put a stop to it when things eventually got too far. The problem would only come later or, in my biggest fears, during. So I was glad that we could carry on dating, and occasionally snogging, without the pressure of me having to fix myself within a deadline.

We also talked loads about it. As a good fucking lawyer, like she had described herself so accurately, Lily loved fucking talking.

- What I'm trying to say is that the narrative around sex in our culture is just plain damaging, isn't it? - she argues one evening in mid-December, when we're in my kitchen cooking dinner. She gestures vividly as she chops chicken breasts. - I mean, for men is like, you gotta have sex all the time, or want it all the time, like some sort of nympho, otherwise you're gay or, like, less of a man because of it. While for women, it's the literal opposite. Have plenty of sex and you're whore. Save yourself for marriage but know what you're doing, you need to please your man, honey. You know what I'm saying? It makes no bloody sense. It's just completely mental.

I hum in agreement, stirring the pot with pasta.

She goes on.

- All it does is put all this pressure on us, both men and women, to perform in a certain way. As if that would somehow define us and who we are as a person. But it doesn't. Don't you think?

I consider it for a beat.

- Well, yeah, I for one certainly always felt like I had to perform well. I think for men in general it's like this. Also when it comes to penis sizes.

- Exactly! It's such a crazy emphasis, we literally place sex on the very centre of our society, while at the same time giving ourselves zero tools or just, like, you know, ways to deal with it healthily. - She stops momentarily speaking, moving to place the chopped chicken in a bowl and starting with the onions. I'm still reflecting about what she had said when she resumes her train of thought. - Don't you think that this has a lot to do with how you behaved before? This macho, misogynistic mentality. Don't you reckon it influenced you to, you know, act like such a manwhore?

I blow air out of my lips, taking in such a philosophical question in an otherwise unassuming Saturday night.

- I don't know, sweetheart. Maybe? But, honestly, if it did it was all very subtle. And I really can't pinpoint if and when that happened. I think, you know, my mistakes were just mine? Because I don't consider myself such a macho man. The lads aren't either, Dad much less. I don't think I was that exposed to this sexist mentality, like you say. I feel like most of it was my own choice, how I chose to behave.

- Mhm, still. There's always an influence, whether you notice or not. For example, how did you get the notion that not having sex, or being ready for it, makes you pathetic but doesn't make me?

- Please, Evans, don't be shy to bring up the most awkward moments of our relationship at any given moment. Do speak bluntly, don't hold yourself back.

She laughs heartily, throwing her head backward.

- Sorry, baby. I didn't mean to rehash old wounds. - She glances at me from over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her sinful mouth. - I just don't buy your shit.

Rolling my eyes, I walk past her, pinching her belly (and earning a squeal in return) on my way to the sink. I wash my hands as I offer a reply.

- I honestly never thought about any of it, so I can't give you a good answer.

It's her turn to roll her eyes.

- You men never think, do you?

- No, we're all irrational creatures.

She huffs but allows me to give her a peck on the cheek as I position myself by her side to proceed with the next steps of the recipe. Later, when we sit at my dinner table to eat, Zeus by her feet dozing off, she continues as if there had been no pause.

- I just feel like people are having sex wrong, you know?

- I beg your pardon?

She chuckles, serving herself a portion larger than her head.

- Not like the act itself, but the reasons behind it. Or the absolute absence of them. - She serves me next, being as generous with the amount of food as she had been with herself. - I mean that many times people don't know what they're doing, they don't even want it that much, they just do it for the hell of it. When, honestly, sometimes all you need is your hand, or some toys, and you're fine.

- Yes, let's talk about sex toys at the dinner table.

She raises a brow.

- When do you wanna talk about it instead, pray tell? - I snort, and she carries on. - I just wonder to what extent do we really want or yearn for it, or is it just something we do on autopilot because we're supposed to?

- I don't know, Lily. I really do enjoy sex.

- So do I, obviously . But not always, indiscriminately. Like, for example, during the time we were apart, it was never something on the forefront of my mind. I had so many more things to think about, it was the least of my worries.

- But you still had sex.

It's new, and dangerous, territory. We haven't talked yet about us dating other people before we got together for good. I'm not so sure I even want to know. Despite my bold claim that I don't consider myself such a macho man, it really doesn't sit well with me talking, or even thinking, about Lily with other men.

But it's all part of our agreement to gradually discuss the subject to the best of our capabilities, in a judgement-free manner and with no shame attached to our shortcomings (in my case, specifically), until eventually my walls come crumbling down. We've been practising being the most honest with each other as possible, leaving no topic off limits.

Still, it makes my heart race waiting for her answer, so I look down at my plate to avoid eye contact.

- When do you mean?

- Erm, when we were apart.

She takes a forkful of pasta to her mouth, chewing it unhurriedly.

- No, I didn't.

- You didn't?

My pulse skitters. She wipes at her chin, knitting her eyebrows.

- You mean this past year? No, I didn't. Like I said, I had much more important things to focus on, sex barely mattered.

- But you dated…

- Nah, I didn't date. I went on dates, but they never got past that. And, honestly, I only did it 'cause there's this paralegal at the firm, a sweetheart really, who was dead set on fixing me up with men she knew. Every week she'd come in with a new suggestion, and I didn't want to always tell her no, you know? But that was it, a couple dates here and there, that didn't amount to anything. And no sex involved, that's for sure.

I have to try really fucking hard to not beam at her. I'd resigned myself that I would just have to man up and listen quietly, without giving a single opinion, when she told me about her experiences with other blokes, both before and after me. It was part of the deal, and I had to be a grown up about it. I had accepted my fate, though it made me mildly nauseous. Now she's telling me she hasn't really dated anyone since me? It's music to my ears.

- Quid pro quo. Your turn, mate.

- Huh?

- You asked about me, now I want to know who you dated when we were apart.

- Ah. No one.

The suspicion in her makes her narrow her eyes at me.

- No one?

I shrug.

- Guess the same as you. I had other things to worry about. I barely got out of the house during that time. Didn't party or cared about social outings at all. I basically just wallowed and cursed myself for losing you.

She blinks, digesting my response. I take another bite of the pasta, suddenly feeling quite bloody pleased with the path, and discoveries, that the talk had taken.

- So you're telling me - she resumes, slowly. - That last time both of us had sex was with each other, one and a half years ago, and we've spent this whole time being voluntarily celibates?

Hm. When she puts it like that, it does sound ludicrous.

- Er, yeah, it looks like it.

- Jesus.

My thoughts exactly.

It did nag at my mind, at times, that I wasn't having sex at all, not even feeling the slightest inclination, for so long. However, because I was nursing a heartbreak, I assumed it had to do with it, and only it. Presently, I know better; my relationship with sex has changed drastically since I used it to destroy what I had with Lily. I no longer view it the same way I did before, and perhaps Lily's right; perhaps there is a part of me that was influenced by all the damaging narratives surrounding the topic in the society we live in. I just had never noticed until now.

It doesn't change the fact that I still want to do plenty of it with her, all narratives and whatnot be damned. I only need to not hyperventilate every time I think of it, immediately imagining a subsequent catastrophe.

It's not like I haven't almost changed my mind on occasion. The urge is very much there. And it only gets stronger as the weeks pass, and we see each other progressively more. Yet it's even worse when we don't see one another. Such as during the Christmas holiday.

This year Lily was going to travel to Surrey, where her sister lives with her husband and kid. She told me she hasn't spent the break with her family in four years, and it was time she remedied that. She took ten days off, and to say I missed her like hell was being euphemistic. I don't know who hated her being away more: me or my mother.

Mum was getting increasingly impatient about the whole thing. If she had any say in it, Lily would be coming for tea every Sunday afternoon. And I'm pretty certain Lily wouldn't mind it terribly, but I still had my reservations. We were taking it slow, after all. We haven't even slept together yet. We spent our time mostly just talking, and learning every little thing there was to know about each other. And that was the plan from the beginning, wasn't it? To start over from scratch, build a solid, true friendship before anything.

And if I wasn't fully ready for one thing, then I surely wasn't ready for the other.

So I placated Mum as best as I could, with promises of many meetings in the near future, and in the meantime I made Knightsbridge my home again for the duration of the holiday. The lads showed their faces a couple of times, once with Lizzie and the others just to watch some Premier League with me and Dad, and to chat the hours away.

As expected, it didn't take long for Sirius to corner me.

- How is it going with Lily, Prongs?

It's after Boxing Day and we haven't had much time to talk just the two of us yet. I had been lazing around in the drawing room, staring lamely at my phone and rereading my last messages with Lily when he suddenly popped up.

I let out a deep sigh.

- It's good - I tell him quietly.

- Why do you look like a pathetic little twat, then?

It makes me laugh.

- You're too sweet, Pads.

- Fuck off. What I mean is-

- Hey, there you are!

It's Peter and Remus, and the circle is complete.

- What are you two huddled here for?

- I'm putting James up against the wall to tell me the truth about him and Lily.

- The truth? Why, has he been lying to us?

The lads become instantly interested, occupying the other spots in the chaise across from me, staring expectantly.

I roll my eyes.

- I'm not. Padfoot's just being paranoid.

- I'm not being paranoid, you prat, I just noticed you look remarkably depressed for someone who's dating the girl of their dreams. So I just want to know what's up.

- I just miss her - I shrug. - It's true. I'm not bullshitting you. We're fine, Pads. I mean, things are the same. Taking it slow. A lot of talking. No sex. But it's good. We text every day, and we're fine. I just haven't seen her in a week, and it makes me a little sad.

- I'm sorry, did you say just no sex ?

Ah, yeah. I haven't really told the other two about this… peculiar character development of mine.

Remus looks at me as if I just told him I've decided to support Arsenal this season.

- Yeah, that's right. It turns out I'm, er, I'm not ready for it yet. It was a whole thing. Lily and I talked forever, and we decided to just wait. Until, you know, I feel more, erm, comfortable with the idea of it.

He exchanges a look with Peter, both wildly bewildered at what I'm telling them. It reminds me of how I felt when it had just happened, all those weeks ago, completely lost as to what the fuck was that all about. After all, I did have a reputation of sleeping around, well and often, at least before Lily. Of all of us, I was the one who had the most sex, and who placed such an importance on it.

Hearing me say now that I'm not ready for it must indeed sound nuts.

I try to explain it better.

- I know, it's fucking mental. But it is what it is. We tried once- well, we didn't try it. She suggested it, and I had a full breakdown just thinking of it. - I sigh, rubbing my neck. - It's what I told Sirius: I'm a little traumatised with everything that happened between us, and how I fucked everything up after we slept together. And this is holding me back. That's why we're taking it slow, that's why I haven't even brought her over to Potter Manor yet. We're really trying to just- just be careful with what we have.

Remus nods along with my explanation, but Peter keeps on frowning in bafflement.

- But how are you surviving, then? No sex at all? For, like, two and a half months already?

- I mean, considering that I haven't had any of it since her and I fell apart last year… I'm gonna say two and a half months is nothing.

Well, not exactly.

Before, I had a broken heart. I was devastated for losing her and for realising how awful my true self was. I wallowed, and slumped, and came to bits. There was no space for lust within such a mind frame. However, now, being happy again, and healthy, and so near her so damn often, it puts sex right back into the front seat of what I want from life. Which is fucking Lily, repeatedly, exhaustingly, every day, all night. And now that she's away, and my longing for her is increasing exponentially fast, my body is literally starting to throb. I wank every morning, sometimes right before bed too, and it isn't fixing anything. My desire just grows and grows.

I'm so absorbed in feeling sorry for my predicament that I almost miss Peter sputtering.

- You are telling me you haven't had sex since last fucking year?

He becomes a little high-pitched whenever he's inflamed, and it draws my attention back to him.

- Yes. You know that, Worms. You know I haven't dated anyone since Lily.

He sputters some more.

- Well, yeah, but- but, I mean, I thought you were still, you know, active. You always have been. In uni, we didn't know who you were shagging until months later, and you always have, like, back-up options, and you're always texting women, and-

- Not anymore, my man. - Sirius smirks, seeming oddly proud as he gives my back a healthy slap. - Prongsie here belongs now to one woman and one woman only.

- No, I know he's with Lily, and that it's serious. I just… - Pete holds my gaze, shaking his head. - Wow. I never would've thought I'd see the day James Fleamont Potter is okay with not having sex.

- I didn't say that - I correct him, lifting one finger up. - I'm dying to have sex with Lily, I'm just not ready for it yet. I'm still processing what went wrong last time, and what we can do to make sure this time around things don't go to shit.

- And how's that going, Prongs? - Remus asks, in his habitually gentle approach. - Are you feeling a little better about it now that you've been dating for a while?

- I am. I really am. I'm just- I don't think I'm there yet. Not yet.

- And how will you know when you are?

- No clue, mate. No fucking clue.

---

We're watching The Great British Bake Off , and I'm physically restraining myself from kissing her.

Lily's been back from Surrey for two weeks and, ever since, I've noticed that I'm having a progressively harder time holding myself back from touching her constantly . The first day we met after the Christmas holiday, it was a Tuesday, and I had insisted on picking her up from the train station. When we got to her flat, her suitcase had barely grazed the floor and I was all over her. She didn't seem to mind and, much faster than I could've predicted, I had her against her bookshelf, snogging her as if my life depended on it. She reciprocated in kind, and things escalated quickly after that. Without thinking, I had raised one of her legs to slot myself against her centre and, naturally, my erection instantly pushed against her. She whimpered, loud . And that's when I finally had the lucidity to step back.

We had been both panting, visibly turned on, and it took every last shred of my willpower to apologise for getting carried away and turn on my heels to bring her things to her room, as if it wasn't killing me not to shag her senseless right in the spot.

Ever since, I've been going round and round in my mind, fixated in finding a better answer to Remus' question.

How will I know when I'm ready? How can I be sure that the time has not yet come if every day I'm with her I have to repress my pulsing desire? Does that not mean I should just fucking give in and go through with it already?

It's my reaction to that last musing that tells me to wait; the thought of sending everything to hell and plunging ahead still makes me break a sweat. And that's my answer.

And yet, when I'm sitting next to her, such as presently, with our thighs pressed against one another, my left arm thrown over her shoulder as she rests the side of her head on my chest, it's bloody difficult to keep my hands to myself.

I inhale and exhale, discreetly, attempting to collect myself. I haven't paid attention to what's going on on the screen for a long time. I can only feel her; notice our patches of skin that are touching, listen to her steady breathing pattern, get inebriated by her vanilla perfume.

At a certain moment, I gulp, a tad too vocal, and Lily shifts. She raises her eyes at me.

- You okay?

- Uh-hum.

I thought that it might be smarter not to speak, since I'm not sure I can trust my voice right now, but all that does is entice her curiosity. She peels herself off my chest to take a proper look at me.

- You sure?

- Yeah, all's- all good.

I clear my throat and lick my lips, and her gaze tracks the movement. She lingers, staring, and my blood starts to hum.

- Okay - she says, deliberately, still eyeing me attentively. But instead of returning to her previous position, she comes nearer, scooting on the sofa toward me. I'm rendered useless with her proximity, so I just watch as she flattens her body against mine. In the next beat, she kisses me.

For all my claims of trying my best to hold back, I sure am quick to fasten my arms around her and pull her impossibly close. Our mouths slide on one another, in their familiar clash of searing tongues. I grab a handful of her hair, and she responds by digging her nails on my biceps, kneading them. It stings a little, and that makes me immediately hard. She makes a noise inside my mouth, but I don't give her room to express herself; I bite her lower lip, bringing her back in for another heated kiss, not stopping myself from pouring in all of my accumulated desire.

She's half on top of me by now, and it's fucking heaven. We keep on snogging, our bodies moving in perfect sync, back and forth, in a deliciously sensual dance. She repositions herself and our fronts press rougher against each other.

She twists her head back just enough to speak against my lips.

- You're hard - she murmurs, as if I need her to point out the effect she has on me.

- I'm always hard when I snog you, Lily.

She swallows.

She pounders.

She asks.

- Do you- would you like me to help you with that?

My heartbeats speed wildly off as I take in her proposition.

- Not- not all the way. Just… whatever you're comfortable with.

Her eyes are blurry with want, and it's a mirror of mine. I can't think too rationally right now, but if my mind has stopped working, I can certainly listen to my body instead.

- Yeah.

- Yeah?

- Yes, please.

She swallows again, and slowly, so slowly, lowers her hand to my thigh. The faint contact is enough for my cock to twitch inside my pants, hopeful. She peeks at me, observing my reactions, and moves her palm up. When it grazes the zipper, I groan.

I'm so hard it hurts. I don't fucking care about being ready or not, I need to get off.

She pops off the button and slides the zip, opening my jeans. My eyes follow her hands without blinking. With measured motions, she brings the edges of the trousers down, and subsequently my boxers. My cock springs free; jolly, heavy and leaking.

She sucks in a sudden breath, staring as if she's never seen anything like it. I groan again as I clock in the debauched look in her face, and can't help but cant my hips, desperate for her attention.

- Lily, please.

She looks up, still appearing a little dazed.

- Yeah?

- Yeah, please .

At my renewed confirmation, she drops to the floor in front of me.

- What-

Her right hand closes around my base and I hiss, cutting myself off. She grabs it with determination, no second guessing, and pumps it once.

- Fuck .

She strokes me one more time, palm wonderfully warm, then brings her face forward. I only have a moment to get ready before her mouth wraps around my tip, and I see bloody stars.

I moan loudly, wanton. The urge to close my eyes and throw my head back to enjoy the feeling of her wet, hot tongue is strong but not as strong as the pure raw need of watching Lily Evans on her knees sucking me off. She does it well, in practised moves, her head bobbing up and down with an astounding ease. One of my hands find their way into her curls, slotting in between her neck and the roots of her hair, and she hums, satisfied, mouth full of me.

I'm already panting, feeling bizarrely close to climax in under a minute. But I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise, considering I haven't had a woman's lips around me in far too long, much less when that woman is Lily, the only lips I want near me ever again. I know I'm going to come pathetically soon. My balls feel heavy, loaded, and my lower body is shaking, already on the edge.

And then she deepthroats me.

I all but shout, flinching forward, my hand tugging hard at her hair as I come truculently. She keeps on sucking, swallowing every last drop of me, and my eyes finally shut as the spasms of my explosive orgasm wreck my limbs.

It's so powerful I feel boneless afterward, completely empty.

I notice some movement, and under lowered eyelids I see Lily rising up to the sofa, occupying her place next to me again. My chest heaves laboriously as I try to catch my breath, but I don't waste any time in pulling her toward me, and recapturing her lips.

- Fuck, sweetheart. - I pant against her skilful, perfect mouth. - That was fucking sensational.

- Thank you.

- No, thank you . Jesus, you're too good at that. I came so fucking hard.

She chuckles lightly and I kiss her some more. It's languid, slow, but after a while I take note of the way she absently rubs herself against my left thigh. Of course, she's still horny. She hasn't come, after all. Without thinking twice, I hook an arm around the small of her back while the other goes to her front, one hand descending to cup her in between her legs.

She gasps and I squeeze firmly.

- Ride my hand, sweetheart.

She doesn't need me to repeat it. She does it with eagerness, sinking her head in the crook of my neck and snapping her hips in rapid succession. The upper part of her core hits right over my Mount of Venus and she keens, sounding so fucking sexy, grinding hard down on me.

In as little time as it had taken me, she comes with a choked noise, burying herself further inside my embrace. When her shivers subside, I shift, moving her on my lap so we can hug more comfortably, and close my eyes in bliss as we recover together. It's not much longer until we fall asleep in each other's arms.

---

I wake up in the morning painfully hard.

I'm in Lily's bed and I can sense the heat she emanates coming from my left side, and my body throbs . I stare at the ceiling and wish fervently for the erection to go away.

The previous night, we stirred up around one o'clock after accidentally falling asleep on her sofa, television still on. We both ached from the uncomfortable position, and it didn't take much convincing from Lily for me to relent and spend the night. Now, I wonder if I should have just gone home, regardless of the late hour and the pains in my Balzacian limbs.

I think of England, I think of Pete's hairy arse, I think of the time Maradona stole the Cup from us.

It doesn't work.

As silently and deliberate as possible, I sit on the bed and throw my legs to the side in order to stand up. I make a point of not looking in Lily's direction because it would only make it that much more difficult to tell myself that the best way to get rid of my hard-on is not by burying myself in her.

I straighten and start walking toward the door.

- Good morning.

I freeze.

Ah, well. Fuck my life.

Turning around to meet the raspy voice, I find Lily supporting herself in one elbow, her flaming hair a glorified mess around her. Her eyes are so small from sleep you barely can discern the colour green, and her right cheek has a remarkable crumpled quality to it from being pressed onto the pillow. She looks warm, lazy, goddamn enticing. My helpful brain immediately informs me that fucking her right now would probably be the best thing I've ever done in my thirty two years of existence.

I clear my throat, utterly flustered. Last night was incredible, but it doesn't necessarily mean everything's changed and we can go ahead and pretend all's fixed with me. It was a first step toward our goals. A bloody glorious step, yes, but a small one at that. I need to keep my head straight and my eyes on the prize. Which is being with Lily without feeling like everything is about to fall apart at any time, and that I do deserve this second, millionth, chance she's given me.

Crossing my arms low in my body, attempting to hide my enormous erection, I offer her a weak smile.

- Good morning, Lily. Do you mind if I, er, if I use your bathroom? Erm, for a quick shower.

- No, of course not. You can grab a towel in the small closet next to the sink.

- Perfect. Thank you, I'll be right back.

I smile one more time before swirling quickly around, taking the left to where I know her toilet is. I turn on the water, removing my jeans and jumper in one go, setting my spectacles on top of a drawer, and urgently stepping under the freezing spray. I have to hold myself from cursing out loud; it's a shitty way to wake up, is what it is. But I need to let my cock know that there will be no repeat of last night, so please just get the fuck down already.

It takes several minutes until my body finally understands and cools down. After I'm satisfied that my lower parts will be cooperating in the near future, I get out of the framed shower and fetch a pink towel from the closet, swiftly drying myself. Putting on the same clothes as before, I rinse my mouth with a toothpaste I found on the sink then walk out to meet Lily in the kitchen. She's changed into sweatpants and a large sweater, and her curls are now tied in a bun.

- Feeling better? - she asks, her back to me as she puts the kettle on. I don't think I'm mad to detect a certain poorly-conceived tinge of amusement in her voice.

- Yeah. Uh, sorry about that. You know mornings are always tricky for men.

- You mean, prickly?

Now I know for sure she's messing with me.

- I'm glad my predicaments are amusing to you.

- You mean, your hardships?

She finally turns on her heels, a laughter unabashedly escaping her. I can't help but laugh too, despite the unfortunate situation I'm in. She's such a prat.

- Yes, Evans, go ahead. Let all your brilliant puns out. Hit me where it hurts the most.

- I'm done, I swear - she says, raising her palms in feign surrender, and yet she's still chuckling. Moving around, she fishes two plates and two mugs from her upper cupboard, and sets them on the kitchen island. Next, she shakes her head to sober herself, and asks - How did you sleep?

- Pretty good, actually. My neck is totally fine again.

- Urgh, mine still hurts. But, of course, I'm much older than you.

She's two months older than me. I snort, coming closer to where she is. She faces me when I'm about to enlace her and give her a good morning kiss.

- Don't even think about it. I haven't brushed my teeth yet.

- Don't care at all.

I pull her in and pin my mouth down on hers. It's just a peck, but one that I need to start the day well. Drawing back, I grin at her.

- Last night was incredible, sweetheart.

She grins, too, resting her hands on the planes of my abdomen.

- It was, wasn't it?

- Uh-hum. And I was thinking, it was a good first step.

- I thought the same.

We kiss for a moment longer, and then she's gone to wash her mouth and face while I cook us some eggs and toast. Despite the initial compromising way the morning's started, it turns out it's quite lovely, waking up together and having a simple breakfast just the two of us. It's something we have missed by taking it slow, but which we no longer will do.

The days pass like that, fittingly.

January is a less busy month for Lily's office so she finds herself with more time on her hands to hang out with me, and our friends, especially during the weekends. Her birthday is coming soon, and so I begin my preparations to throw her a proper celebration, not just an ordinary party at The Nags or at one of our flats. I want to make her something special, and I'm not afraid to spend some heavy money on it. She deserves it. Until then, we see each other every other day, and proceed to take what feels like the right steps toward a fully committed relationship.

That means, among other things, getting each other off awfully frequently. I've been coming in her mouth at least twice a week, and I never knew that not having sex could be this good. Though, to be honest, I've never received so much head in my life. And she's so goddamn good at it. I prefer not to wonder too hard about where she learnt it from, and how much she has practised, to become so proficient; I just enjoy the benefits of her being a grown arse woman who knows exactly how to please her man.

As if she wasn't already perfect, she has to go and know how to deepthroat as well.

I try to reciprocate it as much as possible, making her climax as often as I do. She seems considerably satisfied with our arrangement, and it's stark clear that not being horny the entire time helps us focus on what's important, namely threading carefully on sensitive topics and subjects that still somewhat bother us. Another meaningful advance is to be able to be together in public, usually surrounded by our mates, interacting with the outside world. Because it's rather easy to forget about all the shit when it's just us, in the comfort and safety of our homes; something very different is to face Cassandra's scowls, and the occasional flirting approaches of other people, and the general reminder of everything that went wrong in the first place.

It's slow, but it's working. We're progressing and I continue to be happier than ever.

The Friday before her birthday we attend the pub hand in hand with each other. Everyone's there, the lads and the girls, and also Ralph the bartender. He smirks at us when we greet him en passant , as if he's intimately acquainted with every struggle we went through to be here together tonight. And perhaps he is, who knows. Barkeeps pay more attention than we realise.

We take our place in the usual table at the right corner.

- Hello there, lovebirds. - Lizzie waves at us with a bright grin from the other side of the surface.

- Hey, babes. How ya doing?

- I'm good. How about you two? By the way, looking fine tonight, Lil.

She fucking is. She's decided that making me crazy with her mouth is not enough, she wants to rend me stupid with just one look at her. She has the tightest minidress on, legs covered in stockings and ending in stilettos, all black. She looks fucking delicious, and I'm obviously not the only one to notice.

- Thank you - she replies, smiling, hanging her winter coat on the back of her chair. - I found this outfit when I was shopping online and I just had to buy it. And then I thought, why not wear it tonight, when I'm still a hot and young thirty-two year old?

- Yes, because from next week on you can kiss goodbye to your youth and at last embrace the life of an elderly woman.

Lily hums in agreement with Marlene, serious as a goose.

This, right there - this dry sense of humour, this refusal to take herself too seriously; it makes my attraction to her feel exceedingly large. It makes my skin tingle and my chest tighten, in pure enthralment and arousal. I've never met anyone like her, and it's becoming blatant that there won't ever be another one for me.

I'm momentarily distracted from my fast derailing decadent thoughts by Remus returning with everyone's beverages. We drink and snack like old times, the same eight of us around the same table at the same pub. It's perfect. And yet, she's more. I'm doing my best but it becomes almost impossible, as the evening proceeds, to keep my eyes in check and not wandering down, down, down, to her wide hips and fabric-clad legs and obscenely sexy thighs. I sip my Heineken and think of England. And Pete's arse and fucking Maradona.

I'm not surprised when it doesn't work, again , and lately I've been acting much less like a gentleman as I originally fancied myself to be. So when Lily gets to her feet to go to the loos, I hold on for a few beats before pretending to also need to pee.

I wait outside the corridor of the restrooms for only a minute.

- Hey, baby. What's up? Need to use the-

I sequester her before she finishes the question. Tugging at her wrist, I open the door I know to be a stuffed (but large enough for two people) pantry, on the left, and close it behind us with my foot. Turning her promptly around, and pressing her back to my front, I hug her tight, my mouth skimming her neck in the dark enclosure.

- Fuck, sweetheart. You look so fucking fit tonight. It's making it impossible for me to behave myself. - My lips ghost her ear as I speak, while my hands begin their descent on her body. - This fucking dress. Do you have any idea what this does to me?

- James, what are you doing? We're at the pub!

- I'm aware. I'm also aware that these stockings only cover up to your upper thighs, which means your knickers are right there for me, no obstacles whatsoever.

She whimpers at that, and despite her apparent reluctance with the location of this tryst, I know she's as ready for it as I am. Which I confirm when my fingers find the slim cotton material of her undergarments, and it's drenched. She's already wet for me, and I'm parched .

Pulling her minidress up to crumple at her waist, I rest my right hand on her lower belly, with just enough space for the tips of my digits to reach her clit. I find it easily, and at once start to rub circles at it. It makes Lily moan loudly. She's quite vocal whenever we're touching each other but, although I absolutely love it, I know we can't afford it tonight. My other hand flies to wrap around her mouth.

- Shh, sweetheart. Don't forget we are in public - I whisper, biting lightly down at her earlobe in chastisement, all the while my fingers continue their steady pace. - You're gonna come so hard in just a minute, but you gotta remember we're at the pub. With all our friends outside waiting for us. So you need to be quiet, alright?

Her hips buck at the reminder. In spite of acting as she's somewhat worried about this, I know it turns her on, the whole secret, frowned-upon activity of having a semi-public orgasm. Me telling her how absurd this is only arouses her more, taking by her much wetter she gets the more I talk. Grinding my erection against her arse, I focus on the practised movements of my thumb and index finger, circling her clit the way I've discovered she likes best.

In no time at all, everything is done. She comes bright and intense, a peak of pleasure ripped out of her and swallowed by my palm. Dropping my forehead on her shoulder, I snap my hand out of her knickers, my other fumbling with my belt, taking myself out. I fist my cock with the hand I used to get her off, her wetness serving as the world's most effective lube as I pump myself fast. When I'm ready, I shift to the side, coming on the wall and not all over her.

I breathe relieved, the orgasm loosening my muscles and making me suddenly relaxed. In a quick succession of wiping hands, tidying clothes, turning around, Lily and I hug each other in the dark pantry.

- I can't believe we just did that - she says as if to scold me, which is ruined when she giggles softly.

- Sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn't hold myself back. You look unbelievable tonight.

She sighs, slumping herself in my embrace, head against my beating heart. We stay interlaced for a few seconds, in perfect silence.

She breaks it with a snort-slash-huff.

- It's very ironic, actually. Or… - she backtracks, voice gone amused. - As Jamie Tart correctly said it, it's rather hypocritical.

It takes me a moment to register what she's referring to. I chuckle, and she expands.

- I've always had a hard time understanding people who hook up in public places. Well, if I'm being honest, I straight off judged them for behaving like horny teenagers. Like, can't you just wait until you're home, you randy fuck? Remember Cassandra, a couple years ago? How hard I judged her. And now, look at me. Doing the same, in the goddamn pub we come every week. Urgh, how the tables have turned. And what a hypocrite I am!

I chuckle again, hugging her closer.

- Don't be too hard on yourself. It's my fault, really.

- Of course it is. I didn't say it wasn't. There's no doubt you're the evil genius behind every possible mischief ever. - At that, I laugh with gusto, a little proud of myself, and she slaps me lightly on the chest. - You insufferable prat. But anyway, it's not that. It's- it's just me doing things I never thought I would before. It's just the way all of this is going, since the beginning. - She sighs once more, once more burying her face on my shirt and speaking against my ribs. - You turned my world upside down, James.

I furrow my brows, slightly uneasy.

- In a bad way, you mean?

- No, in the best of 'em.

Warmth spreads across my chest and I bring a finger down to locate her chin, and lift it up. Bending, I kiss her lips, telling her with mine what I haven't been able to do aloud yet.

Not yet.

After a few moments of light snogging, it's time to face the real world.

- Alright, sweetheart. You should go first since you left first to go to the loos. I'll wait a couple minutes, then I'll follow you.

- Alright.

After she's gone, I count to three hundred in my head before I open the door to the bright corridor. I swipe my palms a few times over my messy locks, uselessly of course, and straighten my shirt. Then I school my features into a flawless nonchalance as I walk toward our friends. Only a handful of steps left to the table, and I know we've been caught.

Lily's cheeks are burning red, her eyes determinedly down as she pretends to be engrossed in her drink. Cassandra stares at her with an exasperated air, while Marlene and Remus are cackling at something. I can only guess what that might be.

I ignore everyone.

Taking my place in front of them all, my face is a mask of casualness and I carry on as if nothing's the matter, promptly engaging Lizzie in a deep conversation about her plans for the future that no longer involve modelling. Lily doesn't look at me for the rest of the night, but Sirius stares unabashedly. Before the evening runs its course, it's his texts I find on my phone.

Pads: i guess that's what a lack of sex has reduced you to

you horny bastards

proud of you

S2

---

Lily's birthday fell on a Tuesday, but my celebration plans were scheduled for the following Saturday. On Friday she would spend her evening after work with the girls, to enjoy a night out with just the four of them, and the next day she'd be all mine. The programme I had devoted weeks to arrange would look like this: we'd start the day with a Bougie Drag bottomless brunch in Temple, around the late morning; afterward, we'd head to Kensington Palace where the Luna Winter Cinema was taking place, to watch Pride and Prejudice , one of Lily's favourite films; lastly, I'd rented a private boat to cruise in the Thames at sunset, where a romantic dinner would be ready and waiting for us, accompanied by champagne, chocolate and a dozen bouquets of red roses.

When the day comes, we drive to Temple only to discover that the venue had an electric incident a few hours into the night, and had to be shut down by the fire department. Not believing my luck, I still soldier on and begin the difficult task of trying to find a substitute, which does not pan out as every other good establishment that serves brunch does not accept last-minute reservations. We end up eating at Paul's, Lily telling me that it's her go-to bakery anyway, but I want to kick a wall in frustration. This day was supposed to be perfect, and it has already started falling to pieces.

Which is only worsened as the hours pass. After we have our makeshift brunch, we take the car to the gardens where I find a comfortable space for us to sit (over the thick towels and blankets I brought for this specific reason) and watch the romantic drama. Twenty minutes into the movie, the sky deluges on top of us. It wasn't supposed to rain today, I had made sure of that in every single forecast I checked a million times. Much less such a hailstorm, instead of the annoying but thin drizzle London's known for. And yet, that's exactly what happens.

Screaming, Lily gets to her feet with a jolt, picking up her purse while I retrieve the blankets. We run to my car, already soaked through. We decide to wait it out, the cinema organisers posting on their social media that they'll return with the streaming as soon as it's dry again. One hour later the rain doesn't show signs of slowing down, and the whole thing is cancelled.

At this point, I'm ready to throw fists with God. We drive back to her flat, agreeing that it might be better to regroup there so we can figure out our next step. Because if it continues to pour as presently, there's no way we can take the boat later in the afternoon. That was not the plan, in any case. Indeed, it'd be smarter to already come up with an option for a restaurant where we can have dinner, as plan B, one that's still accepting reservations. But I'm out of ideas, and miserable, and sulking hard.

I slump on Lily's kitchen stool, a second away from crying in dismay.

Lily, on the other hand, is frolicking around her house. We're both still wet, and it's still a little cold inside. She's turned the heating on, and is picking things up and down, hanging the towels and blankets, making the living room a little more comfortable for us. And talking the entire way.

- I'm pretty sure the restaurant across the street doesn't require reservations in advance, we could just walk in. And it's a damn good restaurant, they serve everything. It's delicious, I'm telling you. Or we could just order takeaway and stay in. Ah, that's not a bad idea at all! It'd be very comfy to stay in when it's pouring outside. And we could watch Pride and Prejudice while we eat, they have it on Netflix. I mean, I know that was not the intention, but honestly, it'd be as fun as. And we can take the boat another day? I'd love to go cruising with you, James, but staying inside with you is also an amazing way to spend my birthday. I know you spent all this time and money planning this, but I just wanna be with you, you know? I'd love to reschedule the activities to any day, but today I think this is perfect, too.

And it is as I stare at her ramble, my shoulders slowly rising from their folded position, that the fuse switches back on.

She glances at me, in passing, and talks more.

- I understand why you're upset, but you shouldn't be. All that matters to me is that you went through all this trouble for me. And what a fun programme you had picked, all of them. You really know how to treat me. And I'm serious when I say we can do it anytime you want, and I won't mind. But don't be upset, baby. This is also perfect, just the two of us. Best birthday I could ask for!

She's still prattling when I stand up.

Everything has fallen into place.

I'm in love with this woman. I love her. And I would never ever, ever , do anything to hurt her again. She's mine and I'm never letting her go. And now I know this without a shred of doubt.

I charge in her direction, everything finally crystal clear in my head. She looks up, and stops speaking, blinking in a certain confusion, surely because of the expression on my face. I don't give her time to voice a question; I crowd her against the wall, as if that can guarantee me that she won't ever get away.

Our eyes meet for a suspended moment in time.

Then I exhale, relieved to finally be here.

- Lily, I love you, sweetheart. You're the one for me. The only one. I want you forever, and I want to be yours for as long as you'll take me. My life without you makes no sense, I'm certain of it now. Sorry it took me so long, but I'm ready now. I'm ready for everything. Anything you want. - I pause, fleetingly, meaningfully, to take in the look on her face, and the small little gasp she lets out at my words. Smiling, I conclude. - Also, I'm fucking you tonight until you beg me for mercy.

She makes a squeaky sound at that, which I swallow with my mouth.

I kiss her passionately, lovingly, encompassingly. She's my everything, and I need her to know that. Judging by how she doesn't hesitate to grab my shoulders fiercely, I suspect she does. She reciprocates my fire in kind, as she's always done since the beginning, before I went and extinguished it; I'll never do it again. We'll burn together until the end.

But first, I burn a path across her body. I depart from her lips to suck at her throat, then down at her collarbones. I kiss the freckles peppering her neck. She encourages me by tugging at my hair, keening lightly at every swipe of my tongue. I feast at her cleavage, and continue back and forth on my way to make her even wetter than the pouring rain had already done. In fact, her clothes are damp and clinging to her skin, so in an act of kindness, I remove them for her.

I peel off her long-sleeved t-shirt in one pull, dropping the soggy piece of clothing onto the floor. Next, it's her lacy bra. Then it's just me and her hard nipples. Fucking gorgeous. I blow softly at them before catching the right one in my mouth. Lily yelps, and yanks harder at my hair. I respond by sucking even harder, but biting it gently when I'm done, and moving promptly to the other. I don't waste much time there, though. I'll have plenty of it later.

I kneel as I open her jeans, rolling them down. She helps me, lifting one leg after the other until she's free. The garment joins the others around us, in a halo of discarded obstacles.

- Baby - Lily pants as I reach for her knickers. - You don't have to-

She doesn't finish her sentence. I had already ripped off the last barrier between me and paradise, laying her completely bare to me before she could try and dissuade me from doing so. Sweet Lord, what a sight. How I have missed this body, even though I've only had the chance to see it like this once before. It had been enough to become broiled into my mind. After all, it's the last naked body I'll ever see in my life. And it's the best one I could've chosen.

Breathing her glorious pussy in, I throw a thigh over my shoulder and meet her hot centre.

- Fuck!

I only absently register the profanities she goes on cursing as I lap at her clit, the other hand that's not keeping her leg open for me plunging inside, helping me achieve my goal faster. I suck and finger her in synchronised movements, knowing just how to curl the tip of my digits and curve my tongue to make her buck against my face. I'm relentless, wrenching her orgasm out without vacillation. She comes with a scream, her body jerking, and a muffled bang sounds above me as she slams her head on the wall behind her.

Getting to my feet, drying my chin on my polo shirt, I take a second to appreciate how good she looks when she comes so hard she ends up hurting herself. She has her eyes closed, mouth open in panting, breasts heaving up and down in complete abandonment and debauchery. She's never looked fitter. I grab her neck, disturbing her moment of recovery, and recapture her mouth. I kiss her until she's supple in my arms, then I hoist her up. I walk us to her bedroom, and drop her on her bed. She lays sprawled, eyelids barely holding themselves up.

Shirt, slacks, shoes, spectacles; lastly, I get rid of my boxer shorts.

We're both ready now, and this time I have the presence of mind to ask first.

- Condom?

Lily hums, still plastered unmoving on the same spot.

- I have one somewhere in my drawer. But I'm on the pill. And I'm clean.

I grin, pleased, mounting the bed.

- So am I, sweetheart.

Sitting on the very edge of her mattress, I pull her on top of me. Our lips meet once more, more languidly this time, exploring this position for the first time. She hovers, her knees on each side of me, her entrance just an inch from my throbbing erection, and the soft contact makes it that much hotter. She supports herself with two hands on my shoulders, rotating her hips just enough to graze my tip and make us both doused with her wetness.

- Say it again - she demands, lips skimming mine in tandem with her pussy rubbing tauntingly on my cock.

I don't need to require clarification as to what she means.

- I love you, Lily. You're the one for me, the only one. There won't ever be anyone else.

She moans faintly, teasing me further, making me harder. Even though the wait gets me going, I've waited long enough.

- It's time I've finally fucked you, sweetheart.

The palms of my hands find both sides of her waist, halting her in place and pushing down. She sinks on me, slowly and steady and bare, and when she's finally seated to the hilt, she sobs in relief.

- Yes, yes, yes. Finally.

I couldn't agree more, so I fuck her in earnest, canting my hips to slap it against hers in an unrelenting pace. She lets herself go, head falling back as I move her body up and down. Her tits bounce as I pound on her, her soaked hair sticking all over her face, on her eyes and mouth and nose, but she's beyond caring. She moans every time I'm fully buried on her, deep and lustful, and I make certain that her clit grinds on my pubic bone at every thrust. I know that's how most women come, and I've distributed many orgasms exactly this way. And this is Lily, so I give it my all, determined to make her scream even louder than the first time.

She doesn't, but I realise that it has more to do with the surprise in which her first climax caught her than the strength of the release. This time, she comes with a low wail, which is strangled by her biting firmly on her lips, whole face screwing up in pleasure. Her spasms take long to wane, stretching and fluttering around me in pure bliss. And bringing me right to the edge.

I catch her lips one last time, in an open-mouth kiss.

- I love you, sweetheart - I say one more time before flipping her around, making her kneel in bed, back arched, face against the sheets. Standing up and realigning myself behind her, I sink right back in, as if I had never left. As if I'm just returning to the place I belonged all along. Which at the moment rings truer than anything else I've ever imagined in the throes of passion. Inside it's hot and tight and dripping wet, and I never want to stop fucking her.

Especially in this position, with her arse displayed in perfect surrender. I thrust repeatedly, hard and fast, reaching the end of my stamina. I grab a handful of her hair, twisting her until she's half turned toward me. I need to see her face when I come inside her. When her eyes open and lock on mine, I groan with my whole throat, starting to grow frantic. I speed my movements, losing coordination in the fog of my throbbing desire, mapping her face; her gorgeous emeralds, her adorable freckles, her sinful, smart mouth. My lower abdomen tightens and I tug harder at her hair.

She moans, one last time for me, and tells me -

- I love you, too, James. I've always loved you.

Everything goes white. My orgasm hits me so strongly I completely lose my balance and collapse on top of her. I'm still coming several seconds later, shallow thrusts in sync with my ragged breaths. At long last, my body relents, and every muscle I have slackens.

I stay inside her until I've gone soft and our bodies have cooled, sticking slimy against one another. And still, when I finally move it's just to climb better in the bed and readjust our limbs, bringing her back to my front, legs tangled together, heads resting against each other. We stay silent, respirating peacefully, enjoying the aftermath of a demanding round of exercises. The first round, that is. The night's young as a newborn.

Eyes shut, I speak up when a random thought occurs to me.

- Mum's become impossible to appease. She wants you to come for tea next Sunday, and there's no dissuading her. What do you say? Are you up for it?

Lily chuckles, lightly, sated, happy.

- Definitely.