Lift-Side Chats by cosmopolitan411

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Lily & James
Book: Lily & James, Books 1 - 7
Published: 24/04/2008
Last Updated: 08/06/2008
Status: Completed

the best way of realizing any relationship woes can come through the simple act of just getting
yourself stuck in an elevator with your partner and forcing them to talk to you




1. Believe
----------



**Disclaimer:** *yeah, I totally would have offed Harry; does that answer your
question?*

--

**Lift-Side Chats**

**--**

**Summary:** *the best way of realizing any relationship woes can come through the simple
act of just getting yourself stuck in an elevator with your partner and forcing them to talk to
you*

*A piece inspired by The Bravery's CD “The Sun and the Moon”*

--

**Chapter I: B****elieve**

Song: Belive by The Bravery

**--**

*The faces all around me they don't smile they just crack
Waiting for our ship to come but our ships not coming back
We do have time like pennies in a jar
What are we saving for*

*There's a smell of stale feeling that's drinking from my skins
The drinking never stops because the drinks absolve our sins
We sit and throw our roots into the floor
What are we waiting for*

**--**

*20 July 1980*

20…

She was a bundle of nerves as she intently stared at the bar above the doors of the lift,
watching as they slowly made their way towards fifty, praying for them to just get there
already.

30…

She was well on her way to a nervous breakdown, already second-guessing her choice and whether
or not she really actually even had the guts to go through with it.

41…

She was suddenly hit with the thought that she would most probably be forced to *see* him,
to *talk* to him after one moth without so much as a word uttered from either party.

`This was all so wrong,' she thought to herself with a devastated groan.

47…

She then realized that he might ask her why she was doing this—and she didn't really know if
she had a proper answer for that one. Should she head back “home” until she figured that one out
and come back at a more convenient time.

Better safe than sorry, right?

*Right*?

49…

It was official, she *really* didn't deserve to be called the gutsy spitfire that
people so often classified her as—obviously, if this pathetic display was any indication, she was
anything but.

50…

Yet, somehow, despite all of that she still managed to just get away with letting out a deep
breath as she exited the lift. She managed to make a move towards trying to maintain that courage
that she had finally, by some divine miracle that was totally beyond her, been able to muster
earlier that morning. Still though, she couldn't stop the apparently uncontrollable nervous
shaking of her hands as she walked towards the secretary.

At five paces away from the woman she couldn't help but stop mid-step, there was just
something so horribly wrong about it all, but despite that she felt compelled to do it. Her mind
and her heart were pulling her in two separate directions and she couldn't make up her mind, at
times it felt like her mind was winning, but then at the most importunate times, such as now, her
heart made a valiant effort that seemed to destruct any progress she had made.

She sucked in a deep breath of air as she forced herself to take another step towards what she
*knew* was the right direction, even if her heart didn't believe it to be so.

“Mrs. Potter,” the secretary, Alison, greeted her, a distinct undertone of surprise evident in
her voice. Apparently, she wasn't totally ignorant as to the on goings of Lily's life,
figures that James would tell her. “I'm afraid that your husband is at a meeting right now, but
he should be back in a few minutes if you'd like to wait-”

“No,” Lily quickly interrupted her; all the while understandably grateful for the opening that
the secretary had given her and the apparent bout of luck with karma that she was having that day.
“That's okay, I just need to drop off this envelope—I'll just leave it in his office,” she
told her, tightly smiling at the girl before quickly making her way into James's office.

When she entered the room she couldn't help but scoff at the sty that she had entered.
Typical James, papers strewn about everywhere in sight—and that from a bloody CEO of a company, he
really just needed to grow up and gain some sense of organization skills. Suddenly, upon
remembering the time constraints that Alison had made note of, she quickly made her way towards his
desk and stuffed the envelope on top of a pile of papers that were resting on top of it—only
question was when the slob would find it in that mess.

Quickly ridding herself of the thought that was sure to have her going off on a tangent she made
her way out of the office, waving a quick goodbye to Alison as she rushed towards the lift, praying
for the Gods to continue protecting her and save her from running into anymore people she knew.

After only a few minutes of waiting and the doors opening to an empty lift she couldn't help
but breathe a sigh of relief as she made her way through the open doors, pressing the button for
the lobby. She leaned back onto the walls of the lift, closing her eyes as she tried to keep the
tears at bay, as she waited for the doors to close so she could finally break down, let he emotions
go throughout the fifty story elevator ride that was awaiting her—an ample amount of time to wallow
and recollect herself.

Just as the doors were closing, however, the Gods proved that they could be just as cruel as
they could be kind. A stack of papers wedged themselves between the doors just before they totally
closed, forcing them to reopen to the sight of a clearly baffled and angry wizard.

“James,” she managed to whisper as he made his way onto the lift, immediately pressing the close
doors button with such force that she was shocked by the fact that he didn't break the button.
“What—what are you doing here?”

He stared her down coldly. “What is this?” he exclaimed as he raised the pile of, now ruined,
papers so that they were in her line of vision.

“Those *were* our divorce papers,” she answered blandly, well aware of the fact that she
was probably grating on his nerves because of that response, but, somehow, she didn't care—no,
that was a lie, she did, she relished the fact that she was annoying him.

He rolled his eyes, emitting a slight growl that was almost feral as he heard the cutting
response. “I figured as much, my question is more along the lines of why the hell did you bring
these?!”

“Because I want a divorce?” she ventured, well aware of the fact that she was entering very
shaky territory at her own, admittedly incredibly stupid, risk.

“Damn it Lily!” he barked as he hit the stop button on the pulley. “How the hell do you think it
felt to have my secretary tell me that you dropped something off just seconds before I arrived? How
do you think it felt to see *this*, of all things, lying on my desk?!” he asked her with
obvious disgust at the memory.

“James, you have to understand that-”

“Don't—don't try to calm me Lils,” he interrupted her with a snarl. “*Merlin*, how
the hell can you even just give up like this—I thought that you were stronger than that!”

“*Me*?” she scoffed, an anger quickly rising within her at hearing him say those words.
“I'm the one that's giving up here James, *really*? Do you honestly want to play that
card here? Because, to tell you the truth—if memory serves me right—you're the one that left
our marriage far before I ever decided to even make it official.”

“Listen, I know we've had our problems, but-”

“*Problems*?” she asked with a condescending laugh. “Is that what you've taken to
calling them now?” she shrieked, her entire body practically pulsing with anger as she felt her
animosity towards him throughout the past year culminating in a slow rumbling within her that was
just waiting to explode.

“Well what else can I call them then?!”

She couldn't help but recoil slightly at that retort. She stared at him, speechless for a
moment as she was left without a retort.

The truth was that despite it all she didn't know what to call it anymore; it was all just
so *blah* right now. It felt as if all those bad memories were meshed together in a collage of
recollections of lonely nights and lonelier days.

“Nothing,” she told him in a broken voice. “There is no word for it because the truth is that we
haven't been together enough this past year for it to even be problems. There was nothing to
fight about—nothing to talk about… there hasn't been an *us* in a long time now.”

“That's not true,” he protested.

“But isn't it?” she challenged him.

“Bloody hell, you're one to talk Lily—moving out without any warning, without even giving me
any indication as to where you were, and *then* suddenly showing up like this to give me these
bloody things. And, even then, you don't come and confront me about it. You're as much to
fault as I am,” he accused her, pointing a finger in her face in an accusatory manner.

“Oh that is so typical of you, you can't dispute the fact so you blame it one me?! I learned
from you, you bastard. Like I said, you left this relationship long ago James, I just followed
suit—made it official, if you will. I won't ever let myself be just some bloody society wife
for you; I *won**'**t* be in a relationship where I'm ignored, I deserve
better than that James!”

It was odd, really—the way that suddenly, out of nowhere and without any indication at all, he
seemed to calm down. Everything about him changed—from his facial features to his stance to the way
that he wasn't glaring at her anymore. He looked *broken*—and, somehow, Lily couldn't
help but revel in that, enjoy the fact that she was finally able to instill some sense of
*something*, some emotion in him, after having spent so long with the cold, emotionless James
that she'd come to despise.

“I don't ignore you,” he managed to choke out, a tone that perfectly matching everything
about his deportment.

Still though, she couldn't help, but guffaw at that reply. “You don't? Well then what
the hell do you call the fact that you'd rather sleep in your bloody office than come home to
me just because it's more convenient? What the hell do you call the fact that you've been
home a total of seven months in the past year between all those damn business trips of yours?
You've become the classic society husband James—we don't even know each other anymore.”

“That isn't fair-”

“then what is it James because, honestly, it sounds like a perfectly reasonable accusation given
everything that's gone on—or, better yet, hasn't gone on between us lately!”

“If you'd just believe in this-”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think I've been trying to do? I just can't live like
this, James, too much has gone on between us, too much has fallen apart.”

He sighed as he leaned on the wall opposite to her, letting his weight slowly fall onto the
ground. “Where did it all go so wrong?”

She shrugged as she followed his lead by taking a seat on the ground, only she couldn't
quite slide down the wall as he had been able to given how tight her pencil skirt was so she had to
opt for slowly lowering herself onto the ground.

“Along time ago I suppose—it's why we never noticed it, it came on so slowly, a culmination
of everything.”

“There has to be a chance though,” he persisted, still holding onto that infallible hope of his,
despite how broken he might have felt and appeared to be.

She shook her head slowly. “I don't think there is—not anymore.”

“I can't let it go like that, you know me Lils. I'm just not that sort of bloke, I still
believe in us.”

She smiled softy as she wiped away a stray tear that started to make it's way down her
cheek. “I wish I had something to keep on believing—*breathing* for like that, but it's
just not there anymore.”

He nodded slowly as the full effect of her words hit him. “Can—can we just sit here a bit and
talk. I—I, at least, need some closure. Is that okay?” he timidly asked her, almost as if afraid of
her—a thought that struck such a powerful chord with her, she couldn't help but be shocked by
the influence he could still have on her despite everything that had gone on between them.

“Okay.”

--

*So give me something to believe
Cause I am living just to breathe
And I need something more
To keep on breathing for
So give me something to believe*


--

**Author's** **note****: hope you liked it and, please, feel free to leave any
comments or critiques you may have about it.**

**Also, if anyone would like to be my beta I'd really appreciate it. What I really need in
a beta is someone that can recognize typos as, admittedly, I have quite a few problems with that
one. Also, I need someone who can critique my work, just tell me what sucks, what works, and what
doesn't work. I don't do well with a simple `love it.' lol.**

**Thank you for reading!**

-->



2. This Is Not the End
----------------------



**Chapter II: This Is Not the End**

Song: This is Not the End by The Bravery

--

*Tell me
Come on tell me what you can
Even as you wait for death your wiser than I am
Tell me what does it mean to exist
I am not a scientist I must believe there's more than this
And I can not accept
That everything that's real
Is only what our eyes can see
And our hands can feel


Not even earth can hold us
Not even life controls us
Not even the ground can keep us down
The memories in my head
Are just as real as the time we spent
You'll always be close to me
My friend
This is not the end*

--

*20 July 1980*

“So…”

He raised his head, from his hands, to look at her; a wry smile alleviating the marred
countenance that had previously overtook his face. “So…”

She let out a soft breath of a laugh at his response. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

He shrugged, “Don't really know what else to do anymore, to tell you the truth.”

She nodded slowly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do—do you think we ever really stood a chance, or was it just meant for failure?”

“Our marriage?”

She nodded.

“No—I doubt it was ever meant to end up as screwed up as it did. And I won't ever believe
that it was. Despite what you might think I still honestly believe that we're perfect for one
another—that we didn't make a mistake in marrying each other.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, “I don't regret it, you know.”

“Then why end it?”

She shrugged, “I'm just—I'm tired of fighting, of crying.”

“I—I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know, and I didn't want to hurt you either. I guess, in the end though, none of that
really mattered. We still did it anyway, didn't we?”

He groaned, “Where did it go wrong Lily? What the hell happened? How did we even get here?”

“We didn't realize that sometimes love isn't enough—you can't just stop nurturing
it, we took the easy way out, I guess.”

“But what happened, we used to be happy—we were amazing together,” he persisted, relentlessly
searching for an answer. Desperate to find some solution, some logical reasoning behind how it all
went to hell—he needed it.

“Sometimes there's not a how or when—there's just an '*it did*.'”

He shook his head adamantly, “I won't accept that Lily—I just won't. Not with you.”

“Then what *do* you need from me James?”

“I need to know why you gave up on us. The whole story, everything.

“There was no when-”

“-or where,” he finished for her. “Yeah, I got that. But if you're going to put me through
hell like this Lils, I'm taking you down with me. Now talk.”

“About what?” she exclaimed. “What could I possibly say to make any of this any easier
James?”

“Just talk,” he told her, shrugging slightly as he made the simple request.

“What about?”

“Us.”

She let out a deep sigh as she nodded slowly. “Okay… let's start from the beginning
then.”

--

*I see
I can see you're still afraid
Weathered like the silver moon, on you even fear looks good
I wish, I wish I had some words to give
But all that I can think to say
Is I'll be with you everyday*

--

*15 June 1975*

“Do you like cheese?” you had suddenly burst out. The two of us were at that posh little Italian
place with the amazing manicotti—*remember that one?*

It was hilarious to watch you fiddling with that napkin on your lap so nervously. How you
actually spilled your water when you tried to take a sip of it—I honestly thought Sirius had pulled
a prank on you or something by charming it to cause you to dribble as you drank. Imagine my
surprise when I realized that it wasn't him. Nope, it had been *all* you. The bloke that I
was in love with was incapable of drinking from a glass properly.

“Nope, not really that big of a fan of it—too strong for me. I tend to be picky about it when I
eat it,” I answered honestly. I couldn't help but eye you a bit wearily as I said the
words—there was just something so off about it all. I kept on asking myself where was my James—that
self-assured, cocky bastard?

“Oh.”

“May I ask why you felt compelled to ask me that?”

“Remus always said that it's a great conversation starter,” was your explanation.

I stared at you blankly; my jaw even went slack at hearing that response. “Well it didn't
seem to work all that well for us.”

“No, it didn't, did it?” you asked, as if realization of the fact finally dawned upon you—it
was quite pathetic really.

“Ever think that it might just be a joke?” I offered, trying to bite back a smile at your
naivety. It was quite cute, really.

“That… that might make a bit more sense.” you slowly agreed.

I couldn't help but snigger at the extent of your idiocy sometimes. “What's going on
James? Because this—this is *really* getting ridiculous.”

“I'm nervous,” you blurted out awkwardly.

“*Somehow* I managed to notice that,” I tried to break that one to you as lightly as I
could—it was really hard to hold back the laughter as I spoke. “Only question now is why.”

You let out such a deep sigh, it was rather pathetic. You just looked so defeated, hopeless.

“I wanted to do something original, you know. I even had all of these ideas, and almost done it
on numerous occasions, like when I took you on that hot air balloon when we were in Corsica last
month, but somehow I never seem to be able to man up and just do it. Lils… I love—” you stuttered,
and even though I could tell what was coming, when you actually uttered those next four words I
couldn't help but stop breathing in my state of surprise nonetheless. “Will you marry me?”

I nodded slowly, a small smile gracing my face as you took out the perfect ring, a simple
diamond set in a white gold band. It wasn't one of those horribly ostentatious things that I
always like to mock or anything, it was perfect. I remember thinking how well you knew me. Far
better than I had ever realized too.

“I promise to try not to muck things up too often from now on,” you had promised me, attempting
to put the ring on me. “Even if it did take me about fifteen attempts to finally as you…” you
added.

“It's okay,” I managed to choke out as I bit my lip shyly. “I always found all of your
little screw ups quite endearing. And I'm used to putting up with your shit by now anyway.”

--

*I don't care
I don't care what you believe
As long as you are in my heart
You're just as real as me
Maybe
Maybe even more
Someone who's touched so many lives
can never, ever die*

--

*20 July 1980*

“Bloody hell that night was horrible for me,” he admitted, emitting a soft chuckle.

“You know, oddly enough—I loved you like that. It made me feel as if there weren't any
pretenses, it was just you and me. It felt like I could finally really see *you*. And it
helped me realize that you really did love me, just as much as I did you,” she confessed.

“It was always you Lils, despite my mucking things up on numerous occasions. It was only ever
you for me,” he promised her.

She smiled shyly as she felt a hot heat spreading through her face upon hearing those words.
“Same for me, James.”

“Then how can you just leave, why won't you fight for us Lils. I love you—I *need* you,
here you are just throwing away everything that we've worked so hard for. We've all made
our fair share of mistakes throughout this relationship, but we *can* move on, so long as
it's you and me it's possible, you remember that, don't you?”

She smiled softly, shaking with tears that were quickly beginning to overtake her. “You promised
me,” she sniffled, “the night before our wedding that I would never have to worry about us, that we
were unbreakable.”

He nodded as he slowly moved off his seat across from her and crawled towards her side of the
lift, touching a hand to her cheek as he wiped away a tear. “It still holds true Lils, so long as
you believe it.”

“But I can't James, not anymore,” she whispered.

-->



3. Every Word Is a Knife in My Ear
----------------------------------



**Chapter III: Every Word Is a Knife in My Ear**

Song: Every Word Is a Knife in My Ear by the Bravery

--

*Every word from your mouth is a knife in my ear
Every thought in your head is like poison to hear

Like a snake in a suit spitting into the air
With a tongue like a needle and we're shot full of fear
White picket teeth and a big red alert
The life of the party and we pulled up our skirt

It's like poison
It's like poison*

--

*20 July 1980*

James groaned as the two sat, quietly staring at the lift's ceiling. It really was a rather
pathetic sight. “We can't just let it be a mute point-”

“Moot, James, *moot*,” she corrected him with a small smile.

He groaned, “Oh fuck it. I was never good at remembering those ruddy muggle sayings.”

She let out a chuckle, despite herself, at his aggravation over it. “It's okay; I always did
appreciate the effort that you put into immersing yourself in muggle culture.”

He shrugged, “It was a part of you. And it felt like the right thing to do, even if I never
fully achieved my goal.”

“If it's any consolation, you did to a certain extent,” she offered.

He snorted, “Now you're just being nice.”

She giggled, “Okay, so maybe that was a bit of a stretch seeing as you actually said mute point
just now.”

“I'm never going to live that one down, am I?”

She shook her head, “Afraid not, love.”

He laughed as he turned to fully look at her. Moving his hand slowly towards her own, before
finally allowing himself to grasp it, his nimble fingers immediately making work of lacing
themselves with her own.

The act, however, was short-lived as she immediately drew her hand away from his— something that
took them both by surprise as she'd never been one to pull away from him. It was so automatic,
a thoughtless action that, to Lily's great shock, felt almost natural—*innate*.

“I'm sorry… I just can't,” she muttered, turning her head so she wouldn't have to be
under his piercing gaze. The one that always seemed to strip her of everything, leave her feeling
so utterly naked, as if she had no secrets.

“How did it get to this Lils? You saw us just now; it was just like old times-”

“*No*,” she firmly interrupted him. “No, it wasn't James. It was fake, it wasn't
just like before because the truth is that we don't even know each other anymore. No matter how
much we may pose or pretend that we do, we don`t.”

“That's not true,” he adamantly argued.

She sighed, “How is it that we always end up fighting like this?”

“You're asking for a divorce! Of course I'm going to put up an argument,” he deadpanned.
He stared at her dumbly, and was slightly shaken by the fact that she had asked such an obvious
question. “Surely you didn't expect me to just take that lying down?”

She just shrugged.

“*Lily*-”

“Don't—don't Lily me, James. You know how I hate it,” she told him in a pained
voice.

“And I hate how you brush me off, but we don't always get what we want, do we now?”

“Oh you always manage to turn everything on me, don't you?!”

He rolled his eyes, “Don't be stupid Lily, that wasn't even my intention this time.”

“Operative words being *this* time,” she noted, poking at his chest to further emphasize
her point, even though she knew he hated it. He had a surprisingly low threshold for pain—one that
he made a note of never apologizing for but, instead, prided himself on.

“Don't do that,” he whined. “You know I hate it when you do.”

“Why do you think I did it?” she challenged, huffing slightly at the extent of his idiocy.

“Do you have your period because, really-”

“James!” she hissed, slapping him upside the head.

“Well what am I supposed to think when you're acting all pissy like this?”

She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile at his words—somehow there was something undeniably
charming about him even when he was acting like a total arse.

They sat in silence. It was neither comfortable, nor uncomfortable, but an awkward medium
between the two; leaving both Lily and James more confused as to what the next step should be.
There was something foreign about the mood that left them ill at ease as they each tried, very
gauchely so, to try to make a step towards escaping that daunting silence.

Luckily for Lily, James made the first move.

“When did things change?” he asked in a soft whisper that she strained to hear.

“You know, I've asked myself that a lot over the past few months—trying to pin point the
exact day, but I just can't seem to ever come up with an answer,” she admitted with a wry,
pained smile.

“Then what was the catalyst? I just—I need to know where it all began, at least have some
semblance of an idea. I need to know what went wrong so that I can fix it.”

She sent him a pained look, unable to wince at hearing his words. “James… you can't just fix
everything, some things are beyond repair.”

“I won't believe that, it can't be true—not for us Lils,” he stubbornly told her.

She couldn't help but curse the fact that the thing that had always attracted her to him,
his undying diligence and loyalty, was what was screwing her over now.

“If I have to sit here,” he continued, “and have you tell me that you want out, then I'm
going to get some answers as to what started all this.”

She nodded slowly. “It's hard though… To just revisit the past like that. That's a lot
of pain being unearthed.”

“Maybe that's what I need to hear> Besides I'd take a gander at the fact that being
left without any answers is a hell of a lot worse of a fate.”

She nodded.

--

*Every word from your mouth is a knife in my ear
Every thought in your head is like poison to hear

A fool is a devil and a devil's a fool
With a fork-tongue needle and you got us all fooled
A monkey doing tricks and we couldn't resist
If this isn't evil then I don't know what is

It's like poison
It's like poison*

--

*21 December 1977*

“James don't let it get to you,” I told you as I sat behind you, my legs encircling your own
as I comfortingly rubbed your shoulders. I was desperately trying to ease away the tension—both
within you and the physical one from the strain you had been constantly putting upon yourself
lately.

“How am I not supposed to Lily?! Look at this,” you growled as you threw a slew of old
newspapers onto the bed.

“They don't know what they're talking about, take my word for it.”

“But they do. Regardless of the fact that they're just some bloody gossip magazines or
pointless articles written by some half-ass writers, I can't deny that it's true.
Everything about it is spot on-”

“No it's not, you're not just some idiotic CEO,” I protested. “You didn't just step
into your father's position and do nothing.”

“What have I done Lily? I haven't made any real changes to the firm, just a few things with
marketing or product dispersal. They have a point when they call me a useless, overly paid
head.”

I sighed, stopping my movements on you, and instead using my hands to rub at my face. Maybe I
could rub away the frustration I was having with you at the moment. “What do you want me to tell
you, James? Obviously you won't believe a word of what I'm saying so why don't you just
tell me what you *want* to hear, you stubborn arse!”

You paused for a second, that movement—or lack thereof—scared me. I didn't know what to
expect. I was so scared that I had hurt you, or offended you, especially with everything that you
were going through.

“I—I've been considering branching out into the muggle world. Maybe opening new branches to
expand on communications there,” you timidly admitted, as if afraid that maybe I would tell you
that it was the stupidest idea ever.

Your faith in me was so overwhelming by the way.

I could tell that it took you by surprise when I let out a small chuckle. “That's a great
idea James! I really think you should go for it. That'd really help show them what idiots they
are,” I assured you, comfortingly squeezing your shoulder to show you that I really was behind you
on this venture.

“So—so you really think it's a good plan.”

“No, I think it's *great*, James. There's no other company out there that's
affiliated with both the muggle *and* wizarding world. So who better to be a first one than a
communications one?”

You raised a hand slowly, almost shyly, and placed it atop of mine, which was rested on your
shoulder, squeezing it in thanks.

--

*Every word from your mouth is a knife in my ear
every thought in your head is like poison to hear

every word from your mouth is a knife in my ear*

--

*20 July 1980*

“I was so scared that you'd tell me off, or call me an idiot,” James admitted.

Lily giggled lightly, shyly covering her mouth with her hand. “I know, I could tell that you
were practically shaking with trepidation. It was rather pathetic to see that from the *great*
James Potter, you know.”

He chuckled, and he cocked his head to the side a bit. “But why did you chose that memory? It
seemed like a rather happy one to me.”

“Yeah, it was, it *should* have been, but what it's associated with isn't quite as
happy,” she dimly admitted.

-->



4. Bad Sun
----------



**Chapter IV: Bad Sun**

Song: Bad Sun by The Bravery

--

*We are lies like the summertime
Like the spring we are such fools
Like fall we are false prophets
Like winter we are cruel

I don't know what's wrong with us
They just made us this way
There's a hole in you and me
That pulls us together*

--

*20 July 1980*

“You were so dedicated to it, and I truly did adore that about you; your constant diligence I
mean,” she explained as an afterthought. “But… I don't know. After a while it felt like I
wasn't a part of your life anymore.”

At hearing those words he moved his hand toward hers, which was lying near his, in an attempt to
comfort her. “You always came first, Lils. I would never choose work over you.”

“But that's the thing, you may not have realized it but you did. In the end, it felt like
there was no room for me in your life. Hell, I even toyed with the idea that you might have been
having an affair-”

His eyes widened at the admission, “I'd never-”

“But you did. In some sort of horribly twisted way, you did. I may have been stupid to think
that there was another woman, but the truth is that in a way you did have an affair, didn't
you? It was always work before me, and that's the worst part, I came second to this intimate
*thing*,” she said, spitting out the last word.

The amount of disgust and repulsion that was laced with her words took him off guard. He was
startled at how hostile she was, or had been, toward his work.

How much had gone on, just under his nose? How much had passed that he'd been totally
oblivious to, or made himself totally oblivious to?

“I—I didn't mean for it to seem that way,” he finally managed to choke out, unable to give
her any better explanation. A fact that he couldn't help but hate himself for.

She nodded, “I know.”

“I never wanted to hurt-”

“I know, James, it just ends up that way sometimes.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said, more so just for the sake of saying something than anything
else.

They sat in silence, both thinking over all the things that had gone on. A change that should
have been a great step for both their relationship, and James's company, had actually lead them
to trouble. It was a horrifying realization.

“You know we could always solve this by shagging, that always worked for us before,” he offered,
clearly joking, despite the grain of truth that there was to his words.

“You're incorrigible!' she shrieked, a small smile tugging on her lips as she
spoke.

“No, love, I'm just a bloke,” he corrected her with a small wink.

“You're such an arse.”

“You used to say that that was endearing,” he told her with a sheepish grin.

“Not now,” she teased him, but somehow, regardless of the fact that the conversation came off as
so lighthearted, there was this underlying, indescribable weight to it—one that both parties felt,
and paid for dearly.

“Nice to know.”

She nodded.

“I'm getting very tired of you just nodding, you know?”

She shrugged. “I don't really know what else to do. Honestly James, it's either start
crying hysterically, or just sit here and bob my head to no end,” she admitted with a blush. She
really hadn't been intending to confess some of her misgivings; and the fact that she had took
her totally by surprise.

“Nice options you've got there,” he wryly commented.

“I like to think so,” she told him with a wry smile as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt,
anything to divert her attention from him.

“It feels weird. You know…?”

“Yeah.”

“It's odd because I've never had a problem talking to you before,” he admitted. “But
suddenly, it feels as if I have to constantly second guess myself with you-”

“That wasn't my intent-”

“I know that it wasn't you intention, but sometimes that's just how it ends up, you
know?” he told her, staring down at his hands, which were resting in his lap.

“I feel it too,” she quietly confessed.

“It shouldn't be like this though.”

“I know, that's why I think we need to separate, James. Obviously too much time has passed.
We're just not comfortable with one another anymore.”

“But we can be,” he protested.

She shook her head slowly, wiping away a stray tear as she spoke, “Sometimes it just hurts too
much to fight anymore.”

“But what if it's worth it?”

She shrugged. “You tell me James.”

He finally turned to look at her when hearing that response. Sending her a quizzical look he
asked, “What do you mean?”

--

*And I don't know where we belong
I think we grew under a bad sun
I know we're not like everyone
You and me we grew, under a bad sun

Every day you bring me pain
And we savor it like rain
We hold it on our tongues
Just like wine*

--

*5 March 1978*

“No, don't you dare do that Sirius, I won't let you—not anymore,” I interrupted him.

“But Lils, come on, be a bit more reasonable. He's had a lot of stress on him lately-”

“No!” I cried. “I'm so tired of this Sirius. I come to these bloody things because of
him—because I know he needs me to do this for contacting and all that other shit, but I'm not
sure how long I can do it! Especially without him. He's never around anymore, he's always
off…”

“Don't start going down that road Lils, it's James. You know him, he'd never do that
to you. The bloke is far too gone as far as you're concerned love,” he told her, gently rubbing
her cheek with his thumb. “He loves you; he's just got his priorities a bit mucked up at the
moment. Give him some time, you're his world Lily. He would never intentionally hurt you.”

“I just don't know how long I can wait around for him,” she sniffed.

“Are you really going to throw away a relationship that you've put so much work into? After
going through all that shit to get to where you are, are you really just going to give up after
that? Doesn't it seem kind of pointless, all because of a few bad months?”

I nodded slowly, wiping away the tears that were streaming down my face and had surely made a
horrible mess of my mascara. “Okay—you're right. I just—I need to give it some time,
right?”

“Yeah, you're James and Lily, nothing changes that fact.”

“Okay… I'll just—I'll wait it out then,” I decisively told him, taking the hand that he
was offering me and let him take me home.

--

*Someday back when we were young
I guess something just went wrong
the two of us are hung
from the same twisted rope

you and me we grew under a bad sun*

--

*20 July 1980*

“I should have been there.”

“You should have been there a lot of times, James.”

He sighed. “Yeah… I'm starting to see that.”

-->



5. Time Won't Let Me Go
-----------------------



**Chapter V: Time Won't Let Me Go**

Song: Time Won't Let Me Go by the Bravery

--

*Whenever I look back
On the best days of my life
I think I saw them all on T.V.
I am so homesick now for
Someone that I never knew
I am so homesick for
Someplace I will never be*

--

*20 July 1980*

“There's a lot I didn't tell you. A lot that you missed out on over the past few years,
James,” she admitted, keeping her eyes trained on her nervous hands.

He turned to her, raising an inquisitive eyebrow as he suspiciously asked her, “Like what?”

She bit her lip as she tried to avoid his suspicious gaze, she hated the whole Spanish
Inquisition-esque turn that their conversation had taken on ever since they had gotten on that
bloody lift. Talking was supposed to make things easier; it was supposed to be a therapeutic
release of all those damning secrets, fears, and guilt that she had kept contained within her for
so long. So why the hell did it feel more like torture than liberating?

“Psychologists are full of it, you know,” she suddenly burst out.

“What?”

She rolled her eyes. “I went to see a psychologist a while ago… you know, after everything with
my parents, and she told me that talking to you would make things easier. That's a lie, in
reality, it just feels like hell.”

“Well you haven't done any real talking yet Lils,” he noted.

“Yes I have,” she refuted.

“You admitted one thing—you're a red head, one that abides by the cliché no less. I'm
sure that there is a lot more frustration in you that has to do with me, more that you could tell
me.”

She shrugged.

“Just tell me Lils.”

“I—I don't want to hurt you though,” she admitted, not missing the paradoxical logic behind
that statement.

“Hell, I'd say I probably deserve it—even if I might resent you for it at first. You know
how I can be.”

“Yeah, that damn ego of yours,” she smiled softly.

“Exactly—now tell me something, *anything*. I hate this whole no talking thing we have
going on here, if you want us to end it's going to take a lot more than just giving me some
papers to get me to sign them. I want, at the very least, to have some sense of closure, to know
what happened.”

She paused, continuing to pick at her nails—but moving on from her cuticles to chipping off the
scarlet colored nail polish she had on from that manicure she got the day before. Logically
speaking, it should have been a waste—but, as far as she was concerned, it was the best form of
stress relief she had ever tried.

“There was this one thing last year…”

“What was it?” he asked her, almost cautiously—a fact that struck a chord with her. It just
wasn't natural anymore. It was as if they were both walking on thin ice; afraid of the other—of
what they might think, *say*.

*Good God, how had it come to that?*

“I had taken a shift as an on-the-field healer, and there was a small accident…”

“How small Lily?” he asked her through gritted teeth, quickly catching on to where she was going
with that admission—a prospect that scared him to no end.

She shrugged.

“How small Lily?” he growled.

“I may have taken a curse for a trainee so that they wouldn't be hit by it…” she whispered
so quietly that he actually had to strain to hear her.

He groaned, “*Lily*!—wait, why didn't I know about that?!”

“Well, *see*… that's where the story really starts.”

--

*Time won't let me go
Time won't let me go
If I could do it all again
I'd go back and change everything
But time won't let me go

I never had a 'Summer of 69'
Never had a Cherry Valance of my own
All these precious moments
You promised me would come in time
So where was I when I missed mine?*

--

*9 January 1979*

“*Lils*, he has a right to know,” Jason persisted, begging me to call you, to tell you what
had happened.

I shook my head adamantly. “No,” I whimpered. “I just—I can't do it, I can't have him
use work as an excuse not to come-”

“He wouldn't do that, he loves you, and as your best mate it's my duty to force you to
call him you stubborn little bint,” he teased me.

I tried to smile—but, in all reality, it was a rather pathetic attempt that even I, who
couldn't see it no less, knew looked more like a grimace than anything else. “I just—I
can't take that risk, it's not worth it.”

“He wouldn't-”

I raised a hand to stop him. “*Don't—*don't make me do it Jason. I need whatever
hope I have left; I want to hold onto that little grain of it. If—if he were to say that he needed
to finish up a meeting first or something I'm not sure what I would do with myself. I need to
be able to believe in him, at least for the sake of marriage. Try to understand, *please*. I
just—I can't have my heart broken… not again.”

He shook his head slowly as he clenched his jaw, so obviously trying to restrain the urge to
strangle me right then and there—I think that the only thing that stopped him was how utterly
pathetic and weak I looked, sitting there in the critical injuries ward at St. Mungo's.

“You're making a mistake.”

“Probably,” I admitted with a nod. “But I'll be able to live with that. A what if is far
better than a possible heartbreak.”

He sighed as he took my hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “You can't just live a lie like
this forever Lils.”

“Maybe not, but for now it'll do—I'll wait it out.”

“You need to talk to him—sooner or later you'll need to confront him,” he told me.

“I just—I don't want him to feel trapped, for him to resent me later for holding him back… I
mean, *look at him*. He's doing so well for himself, he's happier than I've ever
seen him-”

“And you're more depressed than I've ever seen you.”

I winced at the truth behind that statement—having him actually vocalize that fact hurt far more
than anything else. It just made it seem all the more real. “Small price to pay for love,
right?”

“That's a trite and overrated saying; you know that as much as I do Lils.”

I shrugged. “Well, maybe there's some truth to it—maybe it's an oldie, but a
goodie.”

“That was a horrible joke there,” he said in that always brutally honest manner of his.

“Yeah,” I admitted with a sigh, “I know, but it brings me the hope that I need.”

“You can't always live off of hope though—at some point you're finally going to have to
face reality. Don't wait too long or you really will lose him Lils.”

“Maybe what he needs is time-”

Jason shook his head. “You're both so delusional, you know that? He doesn't see what
he's doing to you and you don't see that you're letting him break both of your hearts.
James has always been a bit ignorant to affairs of the heart; you should be leading him on this
one, Lils. He loves you, he'd do anything for you. Sometimes, though, he just needs a little
bit of direction,” he advised me with a crooked grin as he poked fun at out relationship.

My mouth twitched slightly, despite the morbid disposition that our conversation had taken on,
there was an undeniable and charming truth to that statement.

“I want him to be happy, Jason, that's all I've ever wanted for him.”

“Have you ever noticed that he's only ever really happy when you are?”

--

*If I could go back once again
I would change everything, yeah
If I could go back once again
I'd do it all so much better

Time won't let me go
Time won't let me go
If I could do it all again
I'd go back and change everything
But you won't ever let me go*

--

*20 July 1980*

“I knew there was a reason why I always liked that bloke,” he muttered.

She scoffed at that statement. “*Oh please*, you always thought he was in love with me or
something.”

“And I still do. But, you know, apart from that, I always thought he was a decent enough
chap.”

She rolled her eyes. “You're such a liar.”

“And you're stubborn as hell,” he pointed out with a smirk, turning to look at her

“Tell me something new,” she waved him off with a small smile.

“Okay—how about, you should have called me. I would have been there, you know?”

“We all make choices, James, and that was mine.”

“I deserved to know.”

“Yeah, well we all deserved, and wanted a lot of things, doesn't mean we got them, does
it?”

“Doesn't mean we can't change that either,” he retorted.

She groaned, “*James*-”

“Oh don't act as if you weren't expecting that, Lils. It's you, I'm not about to
give up that easily. You should know that much at least.”

She sighed as she raised her hands to her face, slowly rubbing it in a desperate attempt to rid
herself of the frustration she was feeling at the moment. It was a pathetic logic that, while
admittedly irrational, worked for her, given the circumstances.

“I tried James, I tried to hold on. But I've met my breaking point. Why can't you
understand that? Why does it always have to come back to this with you?”

“Because I love you,” he told her, bringing a hand to her chin, cupping it, gently goading her
to turn to him. “We've been through far too much for it to end over something so stupid as my
blindness.”

“Isn't it the little things that always make a difference though?”

“And aren't those always the ones that are easiest to change?” he challenged.

“That's what I thought—what I had hoped,” she admitted before tugging her face from his
grasp, and returning her gaze to her lap.

He, on the other hand, just stared at her as she clenched her jaw, obliviously holding back a
storm of anger that she would have once so easily unleashed upon him. A sad realization struck him
as he become conscious of the fact that she no longer even wanted to yell at him. *What the hell
had happened to them?*

-->



6. Tragedy Bound
----------------



**Chapter VI: Tragedy Bound**

Song: Tragedy Bound by The Bravery

--

*Tragedy Bound
Looking for clues* *I**'**m* *starting to suspect she likes
abuse* *I**'**m* *starting to feel like she*
*doesn**'**t* *feel
Is there anybody in there?*

--

*20 July 1980*

“Why hasn't anyone made a move to start the lift again?” she suddenly asked him, finally
making a move to interrupt the silence that had overtaken them.

He shrugged. “They probably checked who was in here and saw that it was me that stopped the
ruddy thing.”

“Cameras?”

He nodded.

“I didn't know that this building had such a muggle influence,” she commented.

He shrugged. “Figure it should, given that I have dealings with them as well.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

They sat in silence, James staring at the designs on the wall opposite to them as Lily just kept
her gaze fixed on her hands that were resting in her lap.

Lily sighed, biting her lip as she shifted in her seat in discomfort. Despite the fact that it
was oddly comfortable just sitting on the floor of the lift, the mood of the place made her more
and more ill at ease with every passing second. The only thing that could possibly make the whole
experience any worse would be to have some God forsaken clock there just ticking loudly to add to
her aggravation—she had always hated those blasted things.

“But surely there are other people that need to use this lift,” she suddenly burst out,
desperate to leave behind that awkward hush that they had been sitting in for so long—or, at least,
what felt like ages.

He shrugged again. “I own the blasted building, I'd say I'm fully entitled to reap
whatever benefits there are from that,” he gruffly told her with a definite bitter undertone to his
words. “Besides there are other lifts that the others can surely make do with.”

“You're an arse,” she said, almost cautiously teasing him, in a desperate attempt to leave
that morbid atmosphere that they seemed to be trapped in.

“Yeah, well, I never really denied that fact—and, honestly, right about now I couldn't care
less,” he basely told her with a distinct frown that was practically plastered onto his face given
how deeply etched it was.

She nodded as she, for the first time on her own will, raised her head and looked at him.
“James?”

He turned to face her. “Yeah?”

“I—I have to tell you something James, and… well—you probably won't like it…” she
stumbled.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he gave her a quizzical look. “What is it?” he testily
asked her, slightly afraid of whatever admission it was that she was going to make.

She bit her lip lightly. “You know how a few years back you thought that Sirius or Remus played
a prank on you by placing a reducto on mini-James?”

“*Yeah*…”

“Well there's a good reason as to why neither of them ever admitted to that one…”

His eyes widened as comprehension dawned upon him. “Lily, you—you didn't-”

“Afraid I did,” she admitted with a wince.

“But—but why would you do that? I thought you always said *he* was an invaluable member in
you life.”

“Yeah, but he's more important to you than me,” she reasoned.

“Still what the hell made you want to do that?” he exclaimed, totally frazzled by the fact that
she was the person who had forced him to spend five hours trying to undo a shrinking spell on his
member.

“Well it was sort of spurned on by something else…”

--

*Tragedy Bound
I feel sick
Her daddy was killed, her feelings were mixed
He wore a hole in her skin, now all the boys look in
Is there anybody in there?*

--

*12* *July* *1979*

It was the first time I had seen you in a month since you had been away, working on a merger
with some muggle telecommunications company. You had sent me a dress—a bloody floral thing that was
so opposite from my style that I actually had to bite back the urge to gag at the mere sight of
it—and asked me to meet you at the Caldwells' since you'd be taking a portkey straight
there from wherever it was that you were. I don't know why, but I decided to go anyway—despite
that horrid dress, despite the fact that you would rather go to a brunch than spend some quality
time with me upon your return. I missed you and that was enough for me.

When I got there you gave me a peck on the cheek. A bloody peck on the cheek of all things. I
wanted to slap you right then and there—what the hell could have possibly compelled you to greet me
like that and expect me to take it lying down, I have no idea. What's worse, though, is that I
actually did accept it—I let you do it and didn't say anything.

As we sat there, eating our salads—God, I hate salads, they're really much too green for my
taste—and I realized something. It was like this sudden epiphany that hit me full force, out of
nowhere but left such an impact on me nonetheless.

I realized, then, that we were everything that I'd ever hated. Looking at all of those cold
and distant couples around us, I noticed that we were no longer the people that were on the outside
looking in, but instead had somehow managed to immerse ourselves in that society to that point in
which we had assimilated to it, become one of them. We no longer sent each other those secretive
smile, had those private little jokes of ours, or even felt the compulsion to constantly somehow be
touching the other—be it a hand on the small of my back or lacing our fingers together as we had
always done in the past. We weren't Lily and James anymore, we were just two people that used
to know one another long ago.

I got up from the table then, ignoring your questioning look as I left my seat, I apparated
away. In reality, I only went to the gate—I just didn't want you to follow me, or have the
chance to coerce me into returning, you always did have that hold over me.

When I got there I just started walking. I walked for hours on end, not really even sure of
where I was going—or paying attention to the fact that I was in heels, somehow the discomfort from
that or anything else just didn't exist. I was in my own world, perfectly oblivious to
everything else.

I didn't stop when it started drizzling; I didn't even feel an urge to apparate back
home when it started pouring. I just walked, letting my feet lead me wherever they wished.

In the end, I found myself at this little theatre that I had become increasingly fond of over
the years—ever since I had found it two months after our wedding I visited it once a month to watch
a film—I went in and watched *Revenge of the Pink* *Panther*. I didn't laugh
once.

As I was exiting the theatre I found Remus and Sirius waiting, at the front entrance, for
me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I figured you'd be here, know how much you love the place,” Remus admitted with a
shrug.

“Did you tell-?”

“No,” Sirius assured me. “He's been sick with worry though, just so you know.”

“Over what the others will think?” I asked wryly, rolling my eyes as I let them lead me to
Remus's car.

“Come on Lily, he loves you, you know that,” Remus told me as he put the keys in the ignition
and a low rumbling was ignited by the engine—one that somehow just calmed me, it was odd, and a
sound that I usually abhorred, but therapeutic nonetheless.

“I keep on trying to remember that one,” I muttered as Remus drove us to the manor while Sirius
sat by me in the backseat, comfortingly rubbing my back the entire time.

--

*All her life,* *she**'**s* *bound to lose
Tragedy bound
If I met this man
What would I say? How could I speak
How could I speak*

--

*20 July 1980*

“I wasn't worrying over what the others would think—just so you know,” he muttered, and as
assuring as the words were meant to be there was an obvious undertone of frustration to it that
made his aggravation more than clear.

“Not even a little bit?” she couldn't help but goad him.

“No!” he exclaimed, yelling at her for the first time in—well, *ever*. Throughout their
entire relationship—the past fifteen years that they've known one another—he'd never once
shouted, maybe raised his voice a bit, but it never came to that point. It was a daunting fact that
scared Lily more than a little.

“I've fucked up a lot of things, and I'm willing to take responsibility for that fact
Lils, but I won't have you belittle my feelings for you like that. That's something that
I'll never be willing to accept—even from you.”

“Can't blame me for asking,” she said with a small, pained smile

“Want to bet?” he gruffly asked her with a distinct frown implanted onto his face.

“I—I didn't mean to offend you, you know? I just can't help but wonder at times—after
all that we've been through, I can't help but question it sometimes,” she explained, the
guilt quickly making work of her conscience.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” he told her—in a tone that was almost numb from how devoid of any
emotion it was.

It scared her.

And the silence that accompanied it only aided in adding to her trepidation.

-->



7. Fistful of Sand
------------------



**Chapter VII: Fistful of Sand**

Song: Fistful of Sand by the Bravery

--

*Every morning I wake up and you are home
But in your eyes I see that I'm alone
You've left me with your body in my arms
But I can't feel you anymore—You are gone*

--

*20 July 1980*

“What are you thinking about?” she suddenly asked, using any available excuse to end their
silence. She had never handled those uncomfortable moments very well—usually, she managed to come
up with some awful, ill-timed joke that was completely inappropriate in her desperation to put an
end to the uneasiness of it all. She thanked the gods for having come up with a far more fitting
disruption that time.

“Just about how much I'd like a fire whiskey about now,” he admitted with a weak, tired
grin.

She snorted. “Sounds like the perfect thing for this.”

“Yeah… shame that we don't actually have any with us,” he sighed. “What were you thinking
about?”

“Nothing special,” came her monosyllabic reply.

He gave a deadpanned chuckle at the response. “I didn't know such a phrase even existed in
your vernacular.”

“I'm a woman of many secrets and surprises,” she said with a wry smile and a small
shrug—glad to deviate from the *real* topic at hand through whichever available tactics
existed.

“And one who better fess up already because her husband is getting tired of all the
bullshitting,” he told her in a tired face as he turned to face her, only to find her, naturally,
staring everywhere *but* in his direction.

*Damn. He really knew her far too well.*

“It's not that big of a deal,” she sheepishly assured him—doing nothing to ease his
conscience.

“Lils—*please*,” he begged her in that special way of his that could get her go through
hell and back. It just wasn't fair that after everything he still managed to have such a hold
over her.

--

*I can touch your skin but you aren't there
Frustration burns in me, it's more than I can bear
I wanna take you in my fists and squeeze the life back into you
But there is nothing I can do - You are gone
And I can hold you in my hands
But you are gone, you are gone, you are gone*

--

*3 August 1979*

You'd just come back from a trip, it was only about one in the morning when you stumbled
into our bedroom. You were away for a week, but you still found a way to get pissed out of your
mind on the flight that you took with Brodsky back to England. You didn't even think about the
fact that I might want my James to come home to me rather than that drunken bloke who wakes me up
in the middle of the night because he somehow always manages to walk into the door when trying to
walk into the bedroom.

You really are a sight for sore eyes when pissed.

“Lily,” you sang out as you stumbled into bed. “Love, where are you?” you asked as you poked at
the sheets, searching for me.

“I'm right here James.”

“Mmm… it's nice to see you again,” you muttered as you slowly leaned in.

I moved to side in the last second and you fell face foreword onto the bed.

You passed out after that.

--
*You've slipped away like a fistful of sand
You are gone, you are gone, you are gone

I am staring straight into your eyes
You never turn away or tell me lies
But you are with some other man while I am lying next to you
And there is nothing I can do, you are gone*

--

*20 July 1980*

“Okay, so I enjoyed a drink here and there, what does that have to do with anything Lily? I
don't really get the connotation,” he divulged, cocking his head to the side as he considered
what she had told him.

“I realized something that evening—after you passed out I couldn't sleep from all of your
snoring, you really do have a horrible tendency to do that when you're pissed,” she commented
as an after thought.

“Lils, you're going off on a tangent here,” he reminded her.

“0h, *right*,” she blushed. “Well, as I sat in bed, I was thinking about us and everything
that we've been through—and, surely, still had to face—and I realized something rather
disconcerting.”

“What?” he asked her when she trailed off, pausing after she said that—he was almost positive
that she did it solely for dramatic effect. But, then again, it was possible that she was just
considering whatever it was that had her so bent out of shape.

“I've never been the romantic type or anything-”

He interrupted her with a snort as he muttered something incoherent but sounded awfully similar
to “that's the understatement of the year.”

*Arse*.

“Well I realized that the sex—it just wasn't the same anymore. I mean we've had our fair
share of angry sex, randy out of our minds sex, experimental sex, `just sex' sex, and etcetera.
But, *still*, there was always that other one—”

“The one that most would call `making love'—but you hate that term,” he finished for
her—sparing her the trouble of having to gag as she tried to force herself to sputter the words, as
she normally would.

“*Yeah*… well, I realized that night that we didn't do that anymore—we hadn't done
that in a while. It was just… well, *fucking*; that was all we ever really did. And what
really scared me most was that I had no idea how it had come to that point,” she admitted, breaking
their eye contact as she turned from him once again.

Merlin, he was starting to hate it when she did that.

“How had we come to that point? I mean despite all of our problems and all the shit that
we'd gone through I could always, at the very least, count on a great shag to even just
temporarily make up for all of our problems.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in aggravation. “I didn't realize.”

“Took me a while to notice it too, don't worry about it. It's surprisingly easy to
remain oblivious to things like that. When they hit you it's more of a sudden epiphany than
anything else,” she admitted with a shrug.

“Cor, Lils, I know I've asked before, but I just can't help it—really, how did we get
here? How did everything just get so fucked up?” he asked as he threw his head back, ignoring the
slight pain that accompanied it when it hit the wall at full force.

“I—I don't know, I mean I keep on trying to tell myself that we just didn't fight hard
enough, but that's not really it, is it?”

He sent her a quizzical look as he turned to face her. “What do you mean?”

“*We got lazy*—both of us, we didn't want to fight. We wanted to believe that it'd
all work itself out in the end, but, in the end, that just makes it all the easier for it to slip
away… I mean I know I didn't really even put up much of a fight—I didn't do anything until
it was too late and by that point we were far too long gone and I just didn't have the energy
to fight… not really, not as I would have liked to,” she confessed.

“But who says that the chance is long gone?” he challenged her as he, slowly, pushed his hand
towards her—learning from prior experience by just, timidly, fingering her pinkie with his own. He
relished the contact—there was just something so reassuring and natural about it that was exactly
what he needed to get up the courage to ask her that question. *To fight*.

She sighed, which was, admittedly, a bad sign, but—then again, she didn't retract her finger
from his. She kept it there on the floor, lying by his, stiffly, but there nonetheless. “I'm
tired James, I'm just so tired and broken.”

-->



8. Angelina
-----------



**Chapter VIII: Angelina**

Song: Angelina by the Bravery

--

*Oh Angelina
You are the sun and the moon
Every song I ever sang, I stole it from you
I knew that nothing could tear us apart, I never even gave it a second thought
I was so sure and I was wrong, Now every single thing I ever had is gone*

--

*20 July 1980*

He was the one to retract his hand at hearing that confession—he couldn't help it, not when
she told him that. Cor, he'd asked himself a thousand times now since he'd first pressed
that ruddy stop button *how had they gotten here?* But this—this was worse than any of that
confusion, frustration, or desperation. This was affirmation of the fact that there was a
limit—that some things really are irreversible.

The majority of his experience with Lily had been a great show of extremes ranging from various
flamboyant, as she liked to call it when teasing him, displays of affection—which, sadly, included
pulling on her braids during third year—and outrageous head butting of their tempers.

She was the one girl that ever made him feel so alive. Cor, even arguing with her was a rush. He
was never one for yelling, much unlike her, but when they got into the moment she pushed him to the
limits, often almost forcing him to break his cool stance and just scream at her—or wring her neck,
it really depended on which was easier.

But that—the idea that he might have broken her… it was just so *wrong*.

“It's not possible,” he muttered, letting out a low, guttural growl after voicing those
thought despite himself.

“What do you mean?” she asked, as she toyed with the chain of her pendant while keeping her gaze
resolutely fixed on the ceiling of the pattern of the lift's flooring—it was really bothering
her that she couldn't figure out exactly what material they used, after staring at it for so
long the oddest things began to bother her.

“*Us*—falling apart, it's not possible. It can always be fixed, I genuinely believe
that.”

She let out a breath of a laugh as she noted the irony of the whole situation, figures that the
end would be when he'd actually want to fight. “So did I James—but you have *got* to let
go of that naivety at some point or another.”

He shrugged—simply, resolutely telling her “I can't.”

“You learn to James, I did,” she assured him in a condescending manner that really made him
consider wringing her neck—or just tying her to a bed and shagging her senseless until she forgot
about that silly little idea of hers. Honestly, leaving *him*?

That does not happen with Lily and James Potter; it's just simply unacceptable for
*them*.

“I know you don't believe me James, but it's true,” she said in that all-knowing way of
hers, at least in regards to him.

He let out a frustrated sigh as he ran an aggravated hand through his hair, pulling on his
tie—any excuse to mangle at something just to resist that urge to strangle her, or, better yet,
himself for ever having let her come up with that silly notion. “And how can you know that?”

“Experience.”

*Fuck*, he thought to himself upon hearing that answer.

--

*Oh Angelina
I learned my lesson this time
I took you for granted for so long And now I just wanna die
Every thing I ever got, I never even gave it a second thought
I was so sure, I was so sure - Now there's only one thing I know for sure*

--

*18 October 1979*

You'd left the house early that day—leaving a note saying that you had to because of some
staff meeting that you had to attend to, but, the night before; you promised me that you'd be
home early so I didn't think much of it. It wasn't all too unusual with you anyway.

I took the day off from St. Mungo's that day—had a mate of mine covering for me—so that I
could get everything ready for us. After all that we'd gone through lately I really thought
that we could use that—a chance to find each other again, really talk maybe.

Cor, I even tried to prepare dinner—not that I actually ended up serving it, given that,
naturally, it was a horrible attempt that merely produced a burnt catastrophe of a duck
l'orange.

But, hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

Anyway, ultimately, I ended up picking up some Italian food, for you, and some Greek as well,
for me. I put it all up in our bedroom where a mate of mine had set up a mini-theatre of sorts for
us. I just… I wanted for us to finally be able to relax. Have the perfect calm setting where we
could really be comfortable together.

It was all finished by four—exactly when you had promised to come home—but I knew that you
probably wouldn't be back until five or so, so I didn't think much of it when you had yet
to return. I just took out “The Wizard of Oz” and started watching it—not even allowing myself to
indulge in the slightest bit of food, a feat in itself, for fear of it ruining my appetite.

I just wanted it all to be perfect.

**6.50**

I finished watching the film, but you still weren't home. I decided to just watch some
“Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” to distract myself; keep my mind off the fact.

**8.40**

My dinner was finished—as was the majority of the manicotti from yours—and I was starting
“Carrie” when an owl started tapping on the window. And while I know that I shouldn't have been
so surprised by the fact, I couldn't help it; I had hoped that this night would be different.
Despite it all I had still held onto that naïve, infallible hope that you'd be there, but that
crushing penultimate moment where that bloody owl arrived—well that one almost killed me.

It was a short little thing that you couldn't even call a letter really, and that fact just
hurt me all the more.

*Sorry love, can't make it home tonight.*

*Last minute problem with a newspaper that*

*I really need to take care of.*

*Forgive me?*

I had never missed your messy, little, slanted, illegible chicken scratch more than I did then
at that moment. It was so obvious that you had had your secretary write as you dictated, and that
almost hurt me as much as the fact that you had left me for work. *Again*. And on our
anniversary of all nights.

What's worse, however—the salt on the wound, so to speak—was the gift that came with it. It
was this ungodly necklace, rubies and diamonds galore, that was the most catastrophically
ostentatious shite that I'd ever had the displeasure to lay my eyes upon.

You'd forgotten our anniversary.

You'd sent your secretary to buy and “I'm sorry” gift without even realizing what it was
that you actually should be apologizing for.

It was all *so* wrong.

**10.50**

I was numbly making my way through “The Shining”—a movie that I'd never been able to watch
on my own before, and only really even bought for your sake. It's odd, though, how when
heartbroken nothing can get to you—not even a film that usually has you in tears from over what a
state of fear it puts you in.

*Odd, really.*

--

*Nothing here is set in stone
Nothing's ever set in stone
Everything I have some day will fall apart and fade away

Nothing here is ever set in stone*

--

*20 July 1980*

“Oh bloody hell Lils, I had no idea,” he admitted with a groan. “I honestly don't even
remember what the bloody hell it is that I had to attend to!”

She nodded. “I know, and that's the worst part about it James,” she said, turning her head
away from any vantage point where he could see her face as she quickly wiped away a stray tear that
was about to make it's way down her face.

She couldn't let herself do that—not anymore, she'd promised herself that she was done
crying.

“It *did* get better for a while,” she admitted. “Your birthday came two months later and
you and I spent those amazing three weeks off by going to the Bahamas, and everything was great for
a while, you know? I mean… the underlying problems were still there, but it was better than it had
been in a while and I'd learned to live with that—I even let myself hope again after that—I
actually let myself think that maybe all wasn't lost.”

-->



9. Split Me Wide Open
---------------------



**Chapter IX: Split Me Wide Open**

Song: Split Me Wide Open by the Bravery

--

*Split me wide open and look right inside
There's so many things that I tried to hide
Oh you see right through me
You always see right through me*

--

*20 July 1980*

“What changed then? What made you feel like it wasn't worth the fight anymore because, Lily,
I've got a hell of a lot more fight in me and I don't see why you can't find it in your
heart to let me try—to let me make up for my mistakes.”

She sighed, rolling her head to try alleviate herself of a growing crick in it—even after months
of living at the hotel she still wasn't used to the bed, it seemed as if the only place in
which she could get a proper nights sleep was in her and James's bed.

Life *really* was a manipulative bitch.

“I grew up, smelled the flowers, so to speak—I finally realized that you can't hold onto a
façade forever, sooner or later it'll break and the longer you hold onto it the harder
you'll fall when it does happen.”

He turned to look at her, eying her curiously as she determinedly kept her eyes trained on the
wall opposite to them. “That's pretty pessimistic, especially for you Lils.”

“Well a lot's happened to get me here.”

--

*Split me wide open, and cut me in two
There's nothing that I could ever hide from you
Oh you always knew me, you're the only one who knew me

Is nothing sacred, is nothing saved?
Your gentle eyes like a razor blade
They cut me open, you look right through
I give it all to you*

--

*1 May 1980*

I needed you. I really just needed you to be there for me, by my side, holding me and telling me
that everything would be okay, even if that was a lie. I just needed your support, to be in your
arms and feel safe and protected as I waited for the doctor to come out and update me on my
parents' surgery.

I was so scared and so alone James, it was horrible. There I was, practically having a nervous
breakdown in the waiting room, and all I could do was enviously watch Vernon coddle Petunia. I felt
so powerless, so lost, so broken.

I tried to call you repeatedly, but all I ever got was you answering machine so I was forced to
leave you a message telling you about my parents' automobile accident. There I was, bawling,
and all I had to console me was your bloody voicemail. All I could do was hope that you'd find
it soon and come right away.

But you didn't.

You did, however, rush in three hours later apologizing, saying that you got held up in some
last minute meeting over some pathetic excuse of an attempt at a hostile takeover and hadn't
had a chance to check your messages.

But as you sat there—rambling on and on about why you were late, business—I just stared at you,
rendered utterly speechless as I watched you. I realized something then, and it was rather
disconcerting really.

I realized that I was surprised that you had even shown up at all.

--

*Pinned to a wall, I am hung from a tree
For these drooling faces, they can look up and see
But you always knew me, you're the only one who knew me

Oh you see right through me, you always see right through me*

--

*20 July 1980*

“You don't want to do this Lils, I know you don't.”

She snorted lightly, letting out a dispassionate laugh. “You always did know me James, better
than anyone else I think. But, still, there's a fine line between what we want and what we have
to do, isn't there?”

And with a defeated sigh from James silence overtook them yet again.

-->



10. Above and Below
-------------------



**Chapter X:** **Above and Below**

Song: Above and Below by the Bravery

--

*Sometimes I feel like I wanna leave this place for good
Under the ground - I'll live down there without a sound
And never hear these hissing voices all the same
I'll disappear 'cause living makes me feel ashamed
I must believe there's more above us and below
I must believe, stranded with this bitch called hope
It keeps me here when all I wanna do is go
It keeps me here when all I wanna do is disappear*

--

*20 July 1980*

“You know what's odd?”

“What?” she asked curiously.

“Here we are, talking about all of these terrible things that went on during our relationship,
but all I seem to be able to think about is your birthday last year.”

A small smile tugged at her lips upon hearing that admission. “That *was* a pretty good
vacation; I honestly can't remember a better spent birthday.”

“I'm glad to hear it, I rather enjoyed it myself.”

“What gave you the idea to do that anyway?—I mean it's not really your sort of a thing to
do.”

“I remembered how you once told me about how, as a child, you'd always thought it was so
unfair how it seemed as if only boys were ever allowed to go on camping retreats—how sexist it was
for it to be solely a *male* bonding experience. Plus, a mate of mine is big on that sort of a
thing so I asked him for some advice and he pointed me to that beach in Greece, apparently it's
famous among the locals. Just thought you might like a chance to finally fulfill that childhood
wish and break the precedent, so to speak,” he admitted with a shrug.

“It really *was* a great two weeks, James.”

“Good.”

They sat in silence, it was odd how awkward it all was—while, logically speaking, it may have
been normal for a couple to feel a bit out of sorts in each other's company when a divorce
seemed to be in the imminent future it was just so alien to James and Lily. Everything felt so
discombobulated and neither really knew what to make of it, even during their far too many breakups
it had never been quite like that, they'd always known exactly what to say—exactly which
buttons to push.

He sighed.

The sound alone was somewhat relieving to Lily, at least it wasn't that tense silence; the
act alone seemed to somehow cut a bit of the anxiety and edge from the air.

“We were never perfect Lils,” he finally said. “But… well, you and I always just worked. We
fought, a lot, called each other names, mocked each other, hurt each other on numerous
occasions—we've been through it all really. Yet, somehow, nonetheless, it always just worked
for us, for some inexplicable reason.”

“We're rather screwy like that, aren't we?” she agreed with a small breath of a
laugh.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But it worked for us. Plus, we had our good times Lils—and those were great,
nothing could compare to them. Why can't we go back to that time, Lils? We've argued and
broken up before—more so than should be considered healthy, but we worked through it nevertheless.
Why not give it one more go, we've never been the sort to let something put us down anyway, why
start now?”

She sniffed; it felt like she had cried so much that the tears just couldn't come anyway,
but her body somehow still managed to shake with a dry pain that reverberated throughout her entire
body, sending an awfully familiar sense of loss and discontent, just minus the actual tears. Life
really was cruel like that.

“I want to… I want to so much, but I can't James.”

--

*If this is it
All we have and ever will
If this is it
Time is running out and standing still
I'll leave today, 'cause there's nothing left to keep me here
I'll fade away, I'll turn my back and disappear*

--

*12 May 1980*

“Cor, I don't even know what to say,” I admitted as I stood at the podium of my parents'
funeral. “Truth is my mum and dad would have hated this. If they could say anything right now
it'd be that we're all a lot of dolts for wasting our time shedding tears when there's
so much good in the world to celebrate instead. In fact, the made me promise never to cry over
them—that, if anything, that'd be a disgrace to their memory and to everything they'd tried
so hard to instill in me—but here I am, breaking my promise,” I smiled as I wiped away a stray
tear. “They were a crazy pair and a happy one at that. I think that that's what was so great
and memorable about them though, the fact that they were so full of life—believed in it so much.
They didn't believe in pain or pity, even at the worst of times they were optimistic and held
onto the belief that it'd all work itself out in the end because of the karmic balance, or
whatever the hell it was that they attributed it to. So, I guess all I can say is here's to
them,” I finished, ignoring all of the applause as I made my way off the stage and to the W.C.

I broke down when I finally walked into the stall—but the worst thing about it was that I
wasn't even crying over them anymore, but over *us* of all things. *How selfish is
that*?

The truth, though, is that they had only ever wanted me to be happy and make sure that I lived
life to the fullest—that's all they'd ever asked of me. They didn't care if I was
brilliant, rich, talented, or charming; they only ever wanted me to be satisfied with myself and my
life, but there I was, and I wasn't delivering, even on the most menial of requests.

I wasn't happy anymore and you didn't see me breaking right before you. I couldn't
be invincible anymore; I couldn't fight a lost cause anymore, not when there clearly wasn't
any salvation for us anymore.

*I needed to leave.*

--

*The city moans, it lunges up right from the ground
The seething earth, it opens up and spits us out
It's a vicious child, nature never wanted us
This vicious child, a cancer burning black into its heart
If this is it - all we have and ever will
If this is it - time is running out and standing still
I'll leave today, 'cause there's nothing left to keep me here
I'll fade away, I'll turn my back and disappear*

--

*20 July 1980*

“But I can't, I just can't, James, not anymore. I've learned to pick my battles by
now, and this is just one that's too painful to fight.”

-->



11. The Ocean
-------------



**Chapter XI: The Ocean**

Song: The Ocean by the Bravery

--

*I climbed up a mountain, and looked off the edge
At all of the lives that I never have led
There's one where I stayed with you, accross the sea
I wonder do you still think of me
I carry your image always in my head
Folded and yellowed and torn at the edge
And I've look upon it for so many years
Slowly I am loosing your face*

*Sixes and sevens we live on jet planes
And so many faces I don't know the names
So many friends now and none of them mine
Forgotten as soon as we meet
All of these moments are lost in time
But you caught in my head like a thorn on a vine
To forever torment me and I wonder why
Do I wish I'd never known you at all*

--

*20 July 1980*

“I'm sorry—I'm sorry for ruining it all for you,” he gruffly told her. “Maybe—maybe
you're right,” he stumbled, and she could tell he was forcing the words as he uttered
them—there was something so unnatural, so *wrong* about James giving up on something,
particularly *them*.

The shock of it all caught her by such surprise that she felt as if she broke her neck from the
speed with which she had turned to look at him. “Par—pardon?” she stuttered, unable to regain her
composure.

“Come on Lily, don't make me repeat it,” he muttered with a definite undertone of
desperation as he kept his eyes trained on his hands—not turning to return her stare, meet her
eyes, for the first time ever.

“I—I—I'm, just surprised is all,” she admitted, her face turning an unnatural, and rather
unappealing, given her complexion, red.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said in a choked voice, “so am I.”

He sat there frozen, and she couldn't bring herself to say anything, *do* anything. All
of a sudden all of that supposed courage that she had—what had helped her finally do all of
*this*, never failing her in the past two hours—suddenly evaporated without a trace. All she
could do was stare at him as he sat there emotionlessly clenching his jaw.

“I really thought that it was okay, I just—I want you to know that. I didn't want to
disappoint you or fuck things up like this. I just wanted to be good enough. I thought that if
anyone could, we could handle it all, Lils. We were epic, you know?” he asked, pausing after
voicing the thought. “With everything going on around us we were always the one thing that I
thought could prevail in it, no matter how long it took or how many trial and tribulations we had
to go through,” he admitted tersely, never daring to look into her eyes as he spoke. “It was you
Lils, always has been for me, and I'm sorry, I never thought marrying you could end up being so
disastrous on your part,” he spat out, albeit a bit spitefully, but the good sentiment was clear
nonetheless.

She watched as he slowly lifted his hand, clenching it to form a fist, and hit the stop button
with such force that she couldn't help but wince at hearing the sound. She could almost imagine
the indentation that would form from the strike, given James's strength.

He slowly got up, brushing the dust off his suit before turning to her and offering her a hand
that she shook her head to. With a shrug he turned back to the doors, watching the numbers slowly
descend. It was odd, watching James like that; it was so aberrant and disconcerting to see him
acting like that. She had once called that his bluffing face—the one that he used only for poker
and in business, the fact that he was using it with her felt like a stab to the heart.

When the doors finally opened to reveal the lobby he merely muttered a quick “bye” before
beginning to make his way out of the lift.

“It wasn't all horrible,” she told him just as he was about step foot out of the lift.

He turned to her, looking down at her as she sat on the floor—a position that was making her
more and more uncomfortable by the second, she felt so weak and powerless in that situation. She
felt almost broken.

“But not good enough for you to stay Lils—and, in the end, that's all I care about. The end
result is all that really counts, isn't it?” he asked her as he leaned on the frame of the lift
to keep the doors from opening as he tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I'll have the papers sent to you tomorrow, I'm sure I can do some charm to repair
these,” he told her as he raised the poor defenceless pile of papers that had been so cruelly
mutilated by the doors of the lift only three hours before.

“There *were* good times James.”

“Yeah, well it's over now—that's done is done, right? I really do hope that you find
more though Lils, I only ever wanted the best for you—just kind of disappointed that that
didn't turn out to be me I guess,” he told her with a sigh as he pushed off the frame and
turned around, finally walking away from her.

For the first time ever he walked away and didn't look back. There was no teasing, no
testing, it was *really* over.

--

*The sun and the moon
An ocean of air
So many voices
But nothing is there
But the ghost of you asking me why
Why did I leave

Oh the ocean rolls us away, away, away
The ocean rolls us away

Oh the ocean rolls us away, away, away

And I lose your hand through the waves*

--

**author's note:** *so I struggled a lot with this chapter and am not at all sure if I
even pulled it off all that well, really. But the next one—and final one—will just be an epilogue
of sorts so I should have that up within 4-5 days as I'd like to be able to just have some time
to review it.*

*Please R&R, I'd really like to hear your reactions to this!*

*p.s. remember, all the music is up on my* **author's profile

-->



12. Not Tonight
---------------



**Chapter XII: Not Tonight**

Song: “Not Tonight” by Tegan and Sara

--

*love pull your sore ribs in
I will pull your tangles out
in the back of your car I feel like
I have traveled nowhere

what will bring me home
what will make me stay
what will bring me home
what will make me stay
well I don't know, I don't know hoo oo
I don't know, I don't know hoo oo*

--

*28 January 1984*

“Hi,” she said, biting her lip nervously as she looked up at him. Figures, really, that the
first time she would see him in the three years following their divorce would be on a lift. In the
immortal words of… well, she wasn't quite sure who to give credit for it, but the point of the
matter is that the saying rang true nonetheless, life really is a bitch.

“What are you doing in good ole Utah?” she asked with a small crooked smile as she tried her
hand at a horrible American accent that really was a devastating thing to hear.

“The film festival,” he sheepishly admitted.

“Oh. I didn't know that you still go.”

“Yeah,” he said as he scratched his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the
other. “I became rather fond of that Redford bloke over the years, after you forced me to go to
this thing. Haven't gone since—well you know, but this year… I just felt… well I don't know
what, really,” he admitted, stumbling over words as he nervously rambled.

She smiled softly. “Me too, had the sudden compulsion to go when I got the 9ivitation
again—started feeling guilty for ignoring them.”

“Talk about irony,” he muttered. “They finally got my changed address this year.”

“Yeah…” she nodded. “This *is* pretty awkward, isn't it?”

“I think it's natural when two people are divorced and haven't seen one another as long
as we have,” he shrugged, praying for at least some excuse, some sense of normalcy in that whole
mess that they had made of things.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Well I think it sucks.”

“Yeah, kind of does, doesn't it?” he asked, his face breaking into a small grin.

It was odd, it was like one of those horribly awkward and cliché romantic films, really. Just as
she felt as if they may be making some sense of things that damn lift rang, signaling that they had
arrived at her floor. *Bloody hell*.

She bit back a groan as she cursed the damn contraption. “Um, that's me,” she said, pointing
to the open doors. “I should go.”

He nodded slowly, the cursed tension between them only adding to the discomfiture of the entire
situation. “Yeah… um, have fun,” he offered with a crooked, forced smile.

“Yeah, you too, bye James,” she said to him as she steeped out of the lift with a small,
fleeting smile sent his way.

“Bye,” he whispered.

He let out a breath, throwing his head back, tiredly rubbing at his face as the doors began to
close. He waited for the lift to start moving again, to lose himself in that familiar rush as it
started heading upwards; anything to distract him was good in his books.

--

*everything in my body says not tonight
everything in my body says no
everything in my body says not tonight
everything in my body says no*

--

*28 January 1984*

“Lily?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing when he opened the door to his hotel room only to be
left totally befuddled by the sight of a red, tear stained Lily standing in front of him.

“The concierge told me what room you were staying in… kind of lied to him that I was your
sister… I hope that's okay,” she stammered slightly as she rambled on, a definite waver to her
words as she awkwardly stood before him. “Um… do you mind if I come in?”

“Yeah, sure,” he confusedly told her as he pushed the door further open as she made her way into
the suite.

“Nice room.”

He nodded. “I like it.”

“I—I couldn't just leave it like that, you know?” she sputtered, eyes downcast as her hands
nervously fidgeted uncontrollably. “I couldn't just let you go without knowing—without
knowing…” she trailed off, rolling her eyes in aggravation when she couldn't seem to get the
words out. She sniffed, wiping away a stray tear that was making its way down her face.

“Without knowing what, Lily?” he goaded her.

“That I was wrong,” she blurted out. “I—I blamed you for *so* much, but, in reality, it
wasn't entirely your fault. You were ambitious and wanted to be all that you could be, and
there really is nothing wrong with that in particular, and I need you to know that.”

“I was the one that mucked things up by never telling you when that started to take over your
personal life and ruin *ours*. I was as much to blame as you were—I was just too stubborn of a
*bitch* to see that you would have picked me. I was just too cynical to let myself see that. I
let myself get comfortable in the desperate housewife role—you know, minus the house part,” she
babbled on, attempting to make a joke of sorts with the latter, but sadly that humor was lost on
both as she shook with tears. Somehow things just didn't seem as funny when crying was
involved.

“And well, I—I'm so sorry for blaming you,” she told him as she self-consciously hooked her
thumbs in her jeans pockets and pulled on them, trying to release her stress on
something—*anything*. She let out a deep breath as she felt herself dithering under his
piercing *presence*.

“Yeah, well, I—I just—I needed to tell you that…”

Throughout her entire little tirade he just stared at her, understandably, rendered totally
speechless.

“*Right*, I'll just go then, yeah? *Yeah*,” she stumbled as she made her way to
the door, anxious and fumbling with the knob when she finally reached it.

He closed his eyes as he listened to her, pinching the bridge of his nose slightly—an act, he
noted, that he seemed to do a lot in her presence. “*Stop*.”

“Pardon?” she asked, her voice coming out in a feeble whisper that was unnatural for *her*
of all people.

“You can't just say that, and leave like that. You need to give me time—a chance to process,
and all of that other shite.”

“I—I figured it'd just be easier if I left…”

He rolled his eyes as he turned to her, looking at her sardonically. “And you would have left,
run away, *again*?”

She shifted uncomfortably.

He nodded in understanding, snorting slightly at the predictability of it all. It was pathetic
and heartbreaking how, no matter what, they always seemed to run in circles—never able to break
that cycle, never able to stop breaking each other's hearts. It was as if they were both
hell-bent on ruining the other for anyone else.

“I—I don't want to,” she finally muttered, wanting to shy away from his judging look, but
unable to leave it at that, no matter how much she knew that running really would hurt a hell of a
lot less than being with him—than having to bear witness to all she'd lost and how much better
off he apparently was without her. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much had gone on,
she *had* given her heart to him and that was a tricky thing to trifle with, an act that could
rarely be undone. And, sadly, she found herself learning that the hard way.

She groaned suddenly, trying to restrain herself form pulling her hair out. “God, you're
just so *damn* difficult!”

He eyed her coldly. “Oh, *I'm* the difficult one? That's ironic, *really*, how
you shift blame from yourself to everyone else. Here you were just apologizing only to do it again,
some things really never change, do they, *Lils*?” he tainted her, bringing back the old pet
name for measure—a move that struck her far more than she would have liked.

She let out a cold, bitter laugh instead of crying as she so desperately wanted to. “I
didn't run away, I tried to stick it out—maybe the wrong way, but I *tried*! You know
what; I don't even know why I came here. It's pointless really; you and I just run in
circles anyway, all we were ever good at was slowly tearing each other apart. What's the
point?” she asked out loud, more so to herself than anything else. She really didn't give a
shit as to what his opinion on the matter was at the moment. *No*, she was going for the
spiteful ex-wife bit and she was going to milk that one for all it was worth—her cliché “red headed
temper” would make sure of that one for her. After all, she may at least have a bit of fun being a
bitch if nothing else as her day had already gone to hell.

They both just stood there—her on the verge of a nervous breakdown—a fact that was becoming more
and more apparent by the second—and him just *there*. Erect and stoic—just *there*, more
so a statue than a human being.

The sight was scary, bewildering, and more than a little off-putting given that it was James,
the man whom she had always so admired for being so open with his emotions; it was a sight that
made her go even more crazy by the second.

“Don't just stand there like that,” she finally muttered grumpily.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Like what?” he asked with a slow drawl that she really would have fund
sexy, had she not been at her wits end with him—*them*.

“Like *that*, you look like a businessman with that poker face of yours.”

“In case you haven't realized, Lils, I *do* work in business, ergo I *am* a
businessman,” he told her, an amused look slowly creeping onto his face as she saw the beginnings
of a smirk tugging on his lips.

*Much better.*

She couldn't help the smile that slowly tugged at her lips upon hearing that. But, in her
defense, it *was* a small one.

She sighed. “What's wrong with us James? How is it that every conversations seems to end up
in a fight with us?” she asked as she leaned back, putting her weight on the wall behind her as she
felt her legs beginning to give weight in her state of aggravation.

He shrugged. “Great make-up shags?”

She let out a breath of a laugh at the blasé manner in which he had said that; so blunt, so
*charming*. “Yes, well we're not doing that one anymore, so why continue?”

“Force of habit?” he offered.

“I don't like this habit, not this often, at least—even if a battle of the wits can always
be good fun with you.”

“Me neither,” he admitted as he took a step towards her, still a good meter away from her, but
the decrease in distance made an impact on her nonetheless as she felt herself stop breathing for a
second as he neared.

Damn him for still having an impact on her. She really hoped he'd burn in hell for eternity
right about then, regardless of how cruel a wish it may have been and how bad it might be given the
karmic retribution she was sure to receive in compensation for that less than holy comment.

“Well, you know, there is a way to get around this little dilemma…”

She couldn't deny that her interest was piqued by that statement. “Oh, *really*?” she
asked, not a hint of sarcasm in her voice—a true feat for her, given her current state.

He nodded.

“And what do you propose we do to rectify the situation?” That time there was a definite
undertone of skepticism.

“We shag.”

Right about then the only thought that flitted through her mind was that she must look as “white
and shaken as a dry martini,” a favorite quote of hers by P.G. Wodehouse, that she found very
suiting at the moment. A fact that, most likely, she would have normally applauded herself on had
she not been choking at the moment.

On air.

“Pardon?” she asked between coughs.

“I miss you. We may have gotten a divorce, and I haven't seen you in a good three years, but
I miss you nevertheless,” he told her. He was so direct about, so nonsense that it scared her. How
could he look her in the eye and utter those words without the slightest bit of hesitation when she
was practically having a heart attack from the sheer absurdity of the notion? It was
preposterous!

Him not her, that is.

He took another step towards her and she couldn't help but back away—sadly, she did so into
a wall as she soon realized that she had literally backed herself into a corner.

“Pardon?” she whispered with a tremor to her voice, one that immediately gave away timidity over
the possible answer.

He took another step so he was standing right before her, only a hairsbreadth away, and touched
a hand to her cheek slowly. She took in the way he closed his eyes as he traced his thumb across
her jaw, a look of clear ecstasy crossing it.

He slowly opened his eyes, a hazel that was so filled with this indescribable combination of
lust, love, and longing. *Damn him*. “I want you, Lils, we've had our ups and
downs—admittedly, far more than any couple should go through, and far too many that I was culpable
for. But, in the end, that doesn't change the fact that it's you—it's *always*
been you.”

She shook her head slowly, a definite sense of trepidation coursing through her veins. “You—you
shouldn't say that—think that,” she amended quickly. “Not smart—not smart at all,” she babbled
on nervously as he continued to rub her cheek, his thumb inching closer and closer to her
mouth.

“*Don't*,” she whispered weakly.

“Don't what, Lils?”

“Don't do this, don't hurt me.”

He sighed. “I won't hurt you, I promise. Just, *please*, give me a chance to prove to
you that I have changed.”

“No, James, too much time has passed-”

he didn't even bother letting her finish that thought, he knew what she was going to say—he
knew all too well for his taste. “Or maybe just enough time. Maybe this is what we needed to see
how much we mean to one another, to see how worthless everything else is if we don't have each
other,” he persisted.

“James-”

“Don't say no, Lils, *please*,” he begged

She sniffed as she tried to blink back the tears that really were a longtime coming. “No.”

“Lily,” he sighed, leaning his forehead against her own as he closed his eyes. “You need me,
Lils; you need me as much as I need you. We *can* work,” he promised, “We *can* do it.
Everything's a learning experience and this can only make us stronger. That's what they
always say in those ruddy chick flicks you con me into watching. Why can't you follow their
example when you love them so much?”

“Because—because I've been there—felt the pain.”

He winced slightly before opening his eyes. “I love you, Lils,” he whispered before crushing her
lips with his own in a searing, toe curling, shag-me-for-days-on-end worthy kiss.

She couldn't help, but respond, it had become a reflex after all those years with him—all
that time spent loving him. She let the tears free as she poured her heart into the kiss, trying to
use it as a release for all the pain she'd felt over the years—all the hell that they'd
wrought upon one another, each screwing up in their own way.

She used it as a means of discharging all that pent up aggression towards the fates for having
mucked everything up for them.

He pulled away, slowly wiping away the tears. “Don't cry,” he whispered, “please don't
cry.”

“Forgive me for being cliché by this, but why do you *insist* on making me cry then?” she
asked, her eyes downcast as she purposefully kept her gaze set on her shoes.

He placed a finger just under her chin and used it to raise her head—force her to look him in
the eyes. “I won't—not anymore, I promise you that, Lils.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked in a chocked whisper.

“Because I've had a taste of life without you and found that it's really not quite up to
par with what it was like before,” he told her with a small grin.

She couldn't help but let put a small laugh, he truly was far too charming for *her*
own good—dangerous stuff that can be. She bit her lip as she scrutinized him, making up a quick pro
and con list in her head.

She sighed.

“What's winning?” he asked her with a knowing look.

“Leaving,” she admitted bluntly.

“*Oh*… not quite sure I really wanted to know that now…” he admitted slowly as he awkwardly
shifted upon hearing that admission.

“But—well—maybe… just *maybe*, pro and con lists are a bit overrated,” she said, hesitantly
moving her gaze to the painting behind him as she said that. She really hated feeling like she was
at a disposition like that. But, for him, maybe it was worth the discomfort on her part.

He immediately pulled her flush against him in a tight hug, placing a light kiss to her hairline
as he whispered “Yeah?”

She nodded slowly, reveling in the feel of being in his arms again. She hadn't really
realized just how much she had missed that feeling.

“You should know, Lils, that I'm not letting you go,” he told her as his arms flexed,
tightening their grip around her. “Not tonight, not *ever* again—it's just not going to
happen, I won't make that mistake again,” he promised her.

She smiled softly, almost shyly, as she finally braved a look into his eyes. “Good,” she
whispered, slowly gathering up the courage to let herself take the plunge with her next admittance.
“I want us to start over again—to finally be honest with one another, leave nothing to chance, say
it all; the good, the bad, and even the ugly. I want it all with you, James, I don't want to
ever let any trivial and stupid thing get in the way again—it's just too easy and the cost is
too much.”

**Fin**.

--*

what will bring me home
what will make me stay
what will bring me home
what will make me stay
well I don't know, I don't know hoo oo
I don't know, I don't know hoo oo*

--

**author's note****:** *and with a new song starts a new story… just not one that
I'll be writing, lol.*

*Hope you enjoyed it—as I, personally, think that this was by far the most romantic scene
I've ever written—and were, hopefully, pleasantly surprised.*

*p.s. as always songs are available on my profile [***www.fanfiction.net/~cosmopolitan*]—I was actually reading
this chap while listening to the song (came up on my i**Pod's shuffle ironically
enough)* *and I'm proud to say that it really works for it—the pace of the song and the
lyrics, yay me!*

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