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Everything You Never Say by queen_loony

Format: One-shot
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,181
Status: COMPLETED

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild violence, Scenes of a mild sexual nature, Spoilers

Genres: Drama
Characters: Snape, James, Lily
Pairings: James/Lily

First Published: 08/26/2015
Last Chapter: 09/01/2015
Last Updated: 09/01/2015

Summary:
 

She's so beautiful, all her words a song, her every step a dance. You just wish you had the words to tell her what you see. Wish you had his words and his charm. Because he always sweeps her off her feet, and you are starting to fear that you never will...

James/Lily as seen by Severus

 

 

 


Chapter 1: All You Never Say
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You see the way they lean to each other, mapping moves and catching movements with their eyes. She is ever alert, knowing at every moment where he has run off to, he turns every now and then to bestow her with a mocking grin. They are constantly orbiting each other, each one a sun in the other's universe. You see them and you know, they hold each other steady and give trust.

It doesn't surprise you, not really. Despite her constant protests you have seen her affection approaching for years. You assume that you've known longer than she has that a romance is inevitable. She was your best friend, after all, is it not your job to have her back even before the danger has made itself visible?

He knew even before that, of course. Though back then his wishes and displays of affections were laughed off, not only but you but by everyone, he had always known his own heart, and more than that, he had always known how to show it to the world. Unable to be discouraged, he hadn't let taunts and rejection come between what he knew was destined. You envy him for this. You envy him so much, no amount of careless laughter could change that.

She doesn't know how beautiful she is. She glances at the floor before eye contact can become too intense, hides her delicate, pale hands in the wide sleeves of her robes. Her hair she uses as a curtain to block prying gazes, never knowing how it turns to fire in the sunlight. You know it, though, and wish you could tell her. You wish you had the courage to tell her that her every step is a dance, her every word a song. You wish you had his courage to tell her that she shouldn't hide her hands that often, and that she should never, ever hide her face.

His ways with words astounds even you. You'll never forget that first poem he ever wrote her, because you'll never forget wishing those words were yours. Even she paused as he recited it in his bold voice, never faltering for a second, and you saw admiration in her eyes that day. You think now, looking back, that it was these verses that were your downfall. Everything else left her seething with her marvellous temper, but the feeling in his voice earned a small smile before she stormed off.

Her temper is what brought her to you, all those years ago, and it is what made you lose her. Her biggest virtue and her biggest fault were one, were what kept her away from him for so long, yes, but also what drove her away from you, blinding her perfect eyes, rendering her unable to see that all of it was for her. Your devotion for deep magic was for her, not for you. Everything was. Your whole life is driven to please her, really.

You see the way they touch every so often, as if by mistake. See how their feet entangle under the table, he brushes her perfect, long fingers in passing, she ruffles his hair in jest. You see all this, and you know that they see it, too.

You hear the whispers every now and then, rumours that fly faster than the wind. Most are ridiculous, and you scoff at them- his best friends were found in the a broom closet without any clothes on, he owns a cloak of invisibility sewn by death itself, his other friend betrayed him- but when the rumour starts to spread that he and she were seen holding hands, your breath stops for a minute. When the world stops spinning you lower yourself to the ground, back against the hard wall, and let yourself sob, just for a second. After all that has happened, this shouldn't hurt so much. But it does, and you know why: before, there was hope, however slim. Now, she has moved on completely.
Started a different life.

You throw yourself in to your work, marking book after book with your notes, always with the desire to be better, better, better. Maybe if you're good enough, she'll see the truth. See that you were there when nobody else was.

You know that such thoughts are not welcomed for your kind, so you learn more. You teach yourself to bury everything, your feelings, your most inner self. But you are haunted by the memories you attempt to hide, and every night, when you are most vulnerable, you dream of her laughter and her warm smile.

Soon you do not need to eavesdrop on gossipers, for she is kissing him, kissing him everywhere you go. A peck on the cheek here, and brush of the lips there, and every time you have to resist the urge to punch him- she was your's first, before she even looked at him- and your classmates- don't
call her that, don't you dare call her that ever again.

The first time you stand across from the red, snake-like eyes, you are glad that you have mastered the art of hiding yourself. As you role up your sleeve and bear the burning pain to receive the mark, the greatest honour, you think of her and only her. It's still all for her, it always will be. If only she could see that.

You see the way they lean to each other, mapping moves and catching movements with their eyes. She is ever alert, knowing at every moment where he has run off to, he turns every now and then to bestow her with a mocking grin. They are constantly orbiting each other, each one a sun in the other's universe. You see them and you know, they hold each other steady and give trust. And they know it too. They know it, are so full of their love, that it becomes hard for you to look. For the first time in your life, you can't bear to see those eyes, greener and deeper than the sea itself. You turn your head away, about to slink back to the shadows you call your home, when her gaze catches yours. For a second, or a minute, or maybe several years, you are a captive of her spell again, and you know that it will never let you go, not until the day you die.

She smiles, a bit sadly, and turns away. But you can't. You won't ever be able to turn away from the magical being, that goddess dressed in the pale skin and red hair of a girl.
You chose her, long ago, and you will never regret your choice.



Look... at me... You don't know if he hears you, but his eyes stare in to yours, and for the last time you are caught by the beauty of her eyes. You don't expect her to leave him in Death, that assumption would be foolish, but you know your place in the shadows.
You feel only relief as her eyes guide you in to nothingness.


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