Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize (sadly), including the characters (JKR) and the song (Coldplay), and the only things I do own are The Beatles' cds, Abbey Road and The One, which are both pretty ace.
The cool autumn's breeze tousles my hair slightly, making it even untidier than usual. I watch as numerous students loll about on the freshly cropped grass, laughing and talking merrily. There are even a couple of students splashing noisily on the muddy banks of the lake, shrieking loudly. But one student in particular catches my eye.
She is propped up casually against the primordial beech tree my friends and I had so often gathered under, perusing a musty textbook. Her magnificent head is bent in concentration as her eyes—those bright emeralds that outshine the twinkling stars in the heavens above—quickly scan the page in a perplexing blur. She pays no attention to the shouts of mirth surrounding her, but focuses instead on her leisure pursuit. A stray lock of hair had escaped her messy bun, spiraling softly. She ignores it at first—oh, she tries in vain—but its mere presence has gotten the best of her. She puckers her lips slightly, a soft breath of air escaping, causing the renegade strand to flutter slightly, nothing more, then resume its task of framing her pale, delicate face. Frustrated, she blows yet again, but to no avail. Sighing exasperatedly, she continues reading her book, all the while never noticing that she is being watched from afar.
Honey you are a rock
Upon which I stand
And I come here to talk
I hope you understand
Lily Evans is, in all aspects, perfect. There is no other word to describe her. Try and think of one, and you'll undoubtedly fail at that. I've been fascinated with her personality for seven years—seven years—and she’s never so much as glanced in my direction. Okay, maybe she has, but never in the same way that I gaze at her.
Every time I try to talk to her, even if I just want to have a civilized conversation, she simply refuses to engage in one, and storms off angrily, tossing her long mane of reddish-brown hair behind her, leaving me to stand alone, thunderstruck. I’ve tried everything you could possibly think of to hold her attention, but the only time she ever speaks to me is to reprimand me for something I haven’t even intended to do. Now, if I were less persistent in my efforts to win her heart, I would’ve just given up by now, called it quits, and moved on to some ordinary, average girl who would be only too delighted to start a conversation with me.
But I haven’t.
That green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you
And how could, anybody, deny you
You see, Lily isn’t just “some other girl.” She’s the most beautiful girl I have ever—and will ever, for that matter—set eyes upon. Her face is so radiant and beaming, rivaling even the splendour of the sun, and she’s like a breath of fresh air for me, a cool breeze playing upon my cheek. She’s so...different from anyone I’ve ever seen, and I couldn’t be more attracted to her. My feelings for her are different than the ones I’ve ever felt for anyone else, and they’re so genuine, so sincere...just different. Lily makes me want to be different. She makes me want to explore things I’ve never even considered pursuing. Because of her, I actually want to do something with myself; I want to be a better person.
She's untamable, unchangeable, like the wind. She can't be reigned in, and she belongs to no one but herself. She's a free spirit. She's absolutely unpredictable, and you never know what she'll do next. One minute she'll be leading you along, making you think that you have her all figured out, and the next, she's doing something completely different from what you expected.
I came here with a load
And it feels so much lighter, now I’ve met you
And honey you should know, that I could never go on without you
I suppose it would be rather predictable of me to say that she's unpredictable.
I’ve tried telling her this, but every time I approach her, she either stalks off huffily or I become utterly tongue-tied. I mean, I want to tell her everything—what I feel, how much I care for her—but I can’t. I suppose these words weren’t meant to be said, but they’re too profound to be written down as well.
Even if I told her this, she’d probably glare at me and prescribe me to some sort of psychiatrist, which is usual for a girl with Lily’s temper. She’s enraged by me a lot of the time, just by glancing at me, but I know there’s something more. I mean, you can’t just be angry at an individual when they haven’t even done a thing to you. There has to be some other reason.
And that’s partly why I’m so drawn to Lily. I know she’s hiding something. I know there’s a side of her that no one has ever seen, that she allows no one to even glimpse in the slightest. She’s barricaded her heart, erected solid steel walls around it, granting no one entrance. She’s locked it up and hidden the key, unaware that someone, at this very moment, longs for it, to be able to open her heart once more. And I know she hides behind this mask, this façade, but I don’t understand why. Maybe she thinks that no one would be willing to listen, or that her feelings are too complex for a human mind to even begin to comprehend. To me, she simply shuts herself away, and she won’t even allow herself to become acquainted with me. Truly, I think she’s afraid. Of what, I’m not exactly sure. Maybe she doesn’t want to get hurt. But I would never let that happen. My feelings, so often called by Sirius “infatuation,” are far from it. I love her. I’ve never felt this way, and, honestly, Lily is the only person I can even fathom spending the rest of my life with, that I can even imagine comforting.
When I see her cry, I just want to wrap my arms around her lovingly and whisper in her ear that it’s going to be okay. I want nothing more then than to protect her, to be her bulwark and her best friend.
Honey you are the sea
Upon which I float
And I came here to talk
I think you should know
But she's so amazing, I can't help but be interested in her. Honestly, the people she wears the masks for, those people she calls friends, they don't really know her. They've only seen her exterior, but they've never even glimpsed the deeper, more profound side of her. They can't even begin to imagine how complex she is; can't even fathom how deep her soul is; can't even understand her. They think they know her, but they're far from knowing.
As of late, she’s been rather pleasant, seeing as I haven’t bothered her in ages. I’ve taken on the appearance that I’ve given up in my conquest for her heart, but I’m far from that. I will never concede defeat, and I’m determined to win Lily’s heart, despite how long it may take. You see, I’ve always been one for a challenge. Maybe I want what I can’t have, but I strive until I achieve my purpose, and my purpose is Lily.
No, I don’t want her as a trophy. I just want her to acknowledge the fact that I exist, to even speak to me politely without saying harsh words or chucking who-knows-what at my head. As for now, I’d be completely ecstatic if she’d allow me to be her friend. Sadly, it’s going to take a lot of time for that notion to even appear in her mind.
That green eyes, you’re the one that I wanted to find
And anyone who, tried to deny you must be out of their mind
I watch as she sits there contentedly, seemingly not a care in the world. But I can tell that it’s just another of her masks, the ones she puts on when others are around. When she’s alone, though, I can only imagine what she struggles with, how lost she feels, and how the overwhelming darkness with which she battles shrouds her like a velvety, black mantle of doubt.
And true enough, her eyes betray her. The rest of her features give off the air of someone who hasn’t the slightest care in the world, but the slightly worried pucker between her brows and the ambiguity in her clouded eyes reveal that she has. It takes every ounce of self control that I have to not run over there and envelop her into an embrace. Instead, I walk over there casually, seating myself next to her. I’m silent for a moment, until I ask politely, “What are you reading?”
She holds the cover of the book to my face, ignoring me. I read the spine, which says in emblazoned letters, A Carefully Compiled Guide to Magical Literature. She resumes reading, her eyes never moving, only quivering on a single section of the page. Her back has gone rigid, and her shoulders are tense.
“It seems quite interesting,” I say conversationally.
“Indeed,” she replies, somewhat frostily.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” I gesture to the atmosphere around us, comprised mainly of trees, soft, golden tendrils of sunlight, and boisterous students.
“It is,” she agrees, pretending to be immensely absorbed in her reading, though her eyes never move; they are latched onto a single section of text.
I start to say something, but then think better of it, and close my mouth. My head is reeling dizzily just from the closeness, just from the euphoria of being near her. It seems as though with each gulp of air I take, my head becomes lighter, as if someone has replaced the nitrogenous compounds that I inhale so frequently with some sort of fragrant, heady substance.
“Potter, what do you want?” Lily snaps, her eyes boring into mine.
“Can I not just sit here and enjoy the peaceful environment?” I ask innocently, knowing she’d see right through this. Sure enough…
“Potter, you never sit somewhere just to enjoy the scenery,” says Lily blatantly. “In fact, you’re never one to sit still.”
“All I want to know is why you’re getting on to me when I haven’t even done anything.”
“Of course you’re doing something—you’re James Potter, you always have to be annoying someone.” She averts her eyes and tries to focus on her reading once more, but she sits unnaturally still, as a dog waits for an unsuspecting rabbit to amble by.
“Lily, do you ever—” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“Do you mind, Potter? I’m trying to read,” she says coldly, turning to glower at me.
“Fine,” I say coolly, shrugging and getting to my feet. “I won’t disturb you any longer.” I start to walk away.
“Wait, James!” she calls out, a pleading tone in her voice.
I turn around slowly, arching my eyebrows. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry,” she replies meekly, casting her eyes downward. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You can sit here if you want.”
Cause I came here with a load
And it feels so much lighter, since I met you
Honey you should know, that I could never go on without you
I sit back down, though a few inches farther away than before. “Thank you.” She twists around, allowing me only a view of her back as she stares off into the distance, hugging her knees. “Why do you turn away?” I ask softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. I feel her shiver under my touch, though she does not flinch. Instead she mumbles something incoherently.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, pulling her knees in tighter. “Just leave me alone, Potter.”
“Lily,” I murmur. “Look at me.” She acquiesces, her bright, green eyes, sparkling with tears, probing mine, searching their depths. “Do you hate me?”
She shakes her head fervently. “No, I don’t.”
“Then why do act as if you do toward me all the time? It’s hardly an encouraging sign.”
Her shoulders tremble for a moment with a soft laugh, and then she stiffens again. How I love to hear her laugh, clear and rich. “I don’t know,” she confesses, looking away briefly. “I guess I’m just trying to hide the fact that I...” She trails off.
“What?” I press.
Her eyes meet mine. “I like you, Potte-, James,” she immediately corrects herself. Inwardly I allow myself a smirk. “I try so hard not to show it, and indeed it does, too much for my own good.”
“You—you do?” I manage to stammer.
She nods somberly. “The only reason I’ve ever treated you that way was because you always bothered me to the point of insanity, and now, these past weeks, you haven’t even said or done anything, and—”
I silently press a finger to her lips and lean in, brushing my lips gently against hers, but for a moment. She stares up at me for a while with her eyes, and slowly I see the coldness that had once resided within them melting, as a stream thaws in the spring and begins to rush once more. For the first time, I see her truly happy, her burdens slightly lessened, not so heavy as before. She appears even more beautiful and radiant, and I can’t help but wonder at the sudden turn of the tide.
Honey you are a rock
Upon which I stand
I can’t help but wonder how I have managed to make those green eyes shine again.
A/N: Well, how did you like it? Even if you hated it, I'd still like to know what you thought of it. It's my first Lily/James fic - actually, to be quite honest, it's my first one-shot as well. It struck me as a good idea, but as it so often does, an impulsive, daring act suddenly seems seriously flawed in its conception and in its inability to be retracted. Or at least, that's what Jean Ferris says in Once Upon a Marigold, which is a brilliant book. Anyway, if you'd be so kind, just tell me what you thought of it, especially about the whole "adding in the Coldplay song" thing, 'cause I love Coldplay. Thanks for reading!