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Pulse. by dream_BIG
Chapter 1 : Pulse.
 
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Pulse.



My heart was pulsing in my chest, pounding to the beat of the music.



Thump, thump, thump.



I didn’t know where I was. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the beat of the music, the feeling of freedom running through my veins.



I danced. Moving, side to side, up and down, left and right. The beat was pulsing around me, lifting me up and drowning me in.



And I danced. I danced like no one was watching, because, really, who cared? No one cared. I didn’t care.



For the moment, it was just me, moving with the pulse of the song, my whole body aligned with the steady beat of the music.



Thump, thump, thump.



There was no Lily Evans. There was no James Potter. There was just a girl with flaming hair and emerald eyes in the middle of a dance floor, dancing to the beat of the song. Completely invisible.



I didn’t want the world to see me. For the moment, I just wanted to be left alone. Just dancing. Dancing to the beat, the beat that pounded to the music, but seemed to come from inside of me.



I was the beat. The pulse was mine, the steady thumping of the room flowing from my body.



Just dance. Forget him. Forget everything.



Thump, thump, thump.



My heart and the music. Moving together in one, steady pulse.



And I forgot everything. I forgot the seven years. I forgot the boy, who, up until now, I hated with every last bone in my body. With every thump of my heart.



My pulse was hate. Hate for James Potter.



Hate for making me fall in love with him.



My pulse was love.



Thump, thump, thump.



And I danced.



I danced for him, hoping that, even though he wasn’t in this obscure, invisible place, he would see me, see that I was dancing for him. That my heart beat for him, every second of the day.



Seven years. Seven years he chased after me, and I kept saying no.



Stupid Lily. He’s perfect for you.



Too late. I realized too late. Now he doesn’t see what’s right in front of his eyes.



I love you. I love you.



The beat of those words flowed through the music again, a tremor, a ripple of something – something hopeful, something beautiful.



Something like love.



Thump, thump, thump.



Love. The pulse of my heart is love.



Love is James Potter.



My heart skips a beat. The pulse is thrown off for a moment as green meets hazel, and my body stops moving, frozen on the middle of the floor. Reality rushes back to me, the bodies appearing in the emptiness of the air, moving, dancing, pulsing to the beat.



And there is me. Standing in the middle of the whirlwind, my pulse moving a thousand times faster than normal.



James Potter is here.



I don’t know how. I don’t know why. All that matters is that he is standing there – no, dancing there. Dancing to the beat that flows from my body.



Dancing to my pulse.



I can’t move. I can’t breathe.



*



James Potter is like a magnet. He has an aura around him.



That aura draws me to him. He’s a Lily magnet. I just can’t stay away.



Impossible. It’s impossible to stay away.



My feet pull me through the crowd. It parts for me, like it knows that I have to go to him.



It is impossible to stay away.



Closer. Seven steps.



My heart is pounding in my chest now, filling the air around me.



Six steps.



I can feel the electricity running through my veins. It is a thousand volts of energy, moving up and down. I feel alive, like my sense receptors are stronger around him. In that moment, everything is just more. Louder, faster, more beautiful. More perfect.



He is perfect.



Five steps.



His body has a haze around it. A nebulous, filmy haze of heat. I want that heat. I want him. I want some of that perfect to be a part of me.



Four steps.



I can barely think now. James Potter. Here. On my dance floor.



Three steps.



My pulse beats through the air around us. He could hear it. Could he hear me?



Two steps.



Did he know I was here? Did he come looking for me?



One step.



Hope billows through my body. My pulse kicks up a notch.



Thump, thump, thump.



A hand, reaching out. Tentatively touching his shoulder. The contact runs another current through my veins, running up my arm and straight through my heart.



The beat of my heart is pounding in my ears now.



Turn around. Look at me. I’m here.



I tap him again. He turns around. A blinding smile lighting up his face.



Breathe, I remind myself.



What are you doing here? I ask.



I could be asking you the same thing. He responds, right on cue.



Touché. I say. Touché.



I grins. He grins.



It feels natural, right. In that moment, nothing is more comfortable than standing there with James Potter, the steady pulse of my heart pounding through the stillness around us.



No one else matters. He doesn’t care. I don’t care.



We’re invisible. In our own little bubble.



And the pulse is shooting through my heart. I am sure he can feel it, too.



Wanna dance?



Sure.



*



I wonder what James Potter will go and tell his friends at Hogwarts after tonight is over. Merlin, guys, that Lily Evans dances like a whore.



I find that oddly amusing.



Because, honestly, who cares? I don’t care. All I care about is the fact that James Potter is dancing with me – right here, right now. On my dance floor. To the beat of my heart. For the moment, all that matters is the fact that we’re no longer Lily Evans and James Potter; rather, we’re LilyandJames, one entity, dancing together.



We’re not even two different people now. We were attached, almost. Our bodies glued together, moving, constantly moving.



And I struggle to breathe and to keep that beat going.



Thump, thump, thump.



I need that beat to dance. That pulse is the only thing that keeps me going.



You always dance like this?



His voice breaks the trance for a minute, and I pull back slightly, my eyes widening a little. The beat falters for a moment.



Yeah. I say. Why?



He smiles, and everything is okay.



I like it. It makes you seem more…free.



I smile back. The beat picks up again, and my heart thrums faster, just for him.



I feel free.



I feel free when you’re around. You make me feel free.



*



His eyes speak a million colors. They’re not hazel. They’re like kaleidoscope fragments, little shards of colored glass all pieced together to create a masterpiece.



Gold. Blue. Green. Brown.



Interwoven, like a mosaic of colors.



His eyes make me drown, I realize. Drown in a thousand colors of love.



They’re deep. I can’t breathe.



I quickly look away and take a deep breath to steady myself.



Unhealthy. James Potter is unhealthy.



But he’s perfect for me.



Hey, you okay?



His voice is laced with concern, and I can’t breathe again.



No. I want to say. You take my breath away.



Yeah, I’m fine. I say instead. Just fine.



Except I’m not.



I’m not fine – doesn’t he see that? Doesn’t he see that my face is flushed in dark rose, my heart is pumping faster than ever, my movements rushed, quick…desperate.



Desperate for him to see, before it’s too late.



You need to realize that I love you, James. Open those eyes. Look at me. Just look. It’s all there. All laid out for you in my eyes.



Just look at me. Look.



He looks.



My pulse beats faster at that, and I’m sure that he can feel it.



Thump, thump, thump.



What? I whisper, looking at him.



Nothing. He whispers back. But he keeps looking, and I can tell that it’s not nothing. It’s never been nothing.



The beat swells around us for a moment, and I stop moving, trying to tell him a million unspoken words.



Can he see it in my eyes? Can he read it in my face?



What? I ask again.



You’re beautiful. He tells me.



I blush. I can’t help it. He thinks I’m beautiful. Me.



So are you. I say, completely serious. He starts to laugh, but then he realizes that I’m not joking.



I’m not joking. Why would I joke? I think you’re beautiful.



So am I? He echoes, amused. Boys can’t be beautiful.



Yes, they can. I counter. They can be beautiful. You are beautiful. Don’t argue. I think you’re beautiful.



Beautiful has a thousand meanings. He should know that. I think he’s beautiful – inside and out. I think he’s beautiful when he smiles, or laughs, or speaks, even. He’s beautiful all the time, simply because he’s alive.



He’s got life oozing out of every smile, every look, every touch that he gives to the world. The sun – well, the sun doesn’t revolve around the earth.



It revolves around James Potter’s smile.



He’s beautiful.



And I don’t know how to explain that to him – are there even words?



Of course there are words. Three simple words.



I love you.



They mean so much.



And I want to tell him that – so bad. But sometimes it’s better to just show rather than speak. Or maybe if he listens hard enough, he’ll hear it rushing out of every pulse running through my veins.



Thump, thump, thump.



*



And now we’re dancing so close that I can barely tell the difference between his body and mine. But I don’t care. Neither does he.



That makes me happy. He doesn’t care. He wants to be with me, right here, right now. On this dance floor. Lily and James.



The pulse swells around us, beating through my body in a constant pulse – but it’s not just mine anymore. It’s not just my heart that fuels this beat. Now I can feel his heart as well, beating under my own.



A harmony.



One with the music, the pulses beating together.



Thump, thump, thump.



All I can feel is that overwhelming pulse, the beat that swallows me up whole. I’ve drowned now, and I don’t know how I can resurface. His eyes are burning holes into mine, his heart is beating louder, faster…



And I’m lost. Because with him here, I just don’t know what to think anymore. He makes my heart a huge, jumbled mess and all I can think about when he’s around is oh, god, I love him so much that it hurts and why can’t he feel the same way about me?



But right now, his heart is beating just like mine, fast and irregular. Sort of timidly brave, a nervous energy. Is he as nervous as I am?



Does he feel what I do? What does he feel?



He’s looking at me again, with those scalding eyes.



What? I ask again. Softly. I don’t know if he can hear me.



He takes a deep breath and says one word.



Lily…



My name, falling like diamonds from his mouth. He cherishes it, like it’s a flavor that he never wants to forget. Like the feel of my name on his tongue is something like a fantasy to him. Something special, something exotic, something beautiful. He makes my name, Lily, sound like the most perfect thing in the world.



What, James? I ask. His breath catches. Does he hear the way my mouth curls around his name? I hope he does. Maybe then he’ll understand.



Dance with me. He says.



But I am dancing.



No. Just dance. Forget everything. Dance with me.



My heart swells in the music until I can’t feel anything else.



Okay. I say.



Thump, thump, thump.



*



I don’t know my name. I don’t know where I’m from.



I don’t care.



All I can see, all I can feel is James. James, James, James. Everywhere I look is James.



Nothing else matters anymore. I’ve forgotten.



I’m swallowed up in the beat of the music, the pulse of my heart and his, louder and faster and more commanding than ever.



Just dance. Forget everything.



Forget everything except James.



Thump, thump, thump.



*



Lily.



The first thing I hear is my name, and I gasp in a breath like I’ve just been woken up from a dream.



Was this a dream? Please don’t let this be a dream.



Huh? I ask. Breathless. I look around me, the lights pulsing, the beat pulsing, the bodies pulsing on the dance floor.



I breathe a silent sigh of relief. It wasn’t a dream. My pulse is still here, twining through the room.



Lily. I…I need to tell you something.



My pulse kicks up a notch. Calm down, I tell myself. Don’t get too excited.



But my heart can’t help it.



What do you need to tell me? I struggle out a smile, knowing that he can read through it anyway.



I… He says. He runs his hand through his hair, stepping away from me. The cold air rushes in where his warm body was, and suddenly, the bubble is gone. My pulse doesn’t beat through me anymore. We’re just on a dance floor in the middle of a club, the bright lights flashing reality across my vision.



No. I think. No.



What do you need to tell me, James? I ask again. But my voice is begging, almost. Tell me. Please tell me what I want to hear.



Lily. He says again. He takes a deep breath.



Tell me. I say. Tell me. I need to know.



He looks surprised for a minute, surprised at the urgency in my voice. The time is ticking away, and the magic of the moment is fading away. Already my pulse is fading away, no longer echoing around the room.



Lily. I love you.



I’m numb for a moment, emptiness rushing into my ears.



He just…he…



He loves me.



Holy Merlin, he loves me.



The magic starts again, and my pulse beats through the room even faster. I can feel a huge smile blinding across my face. It tells him everything he needs to know.



And as he kisses me, the only thing I can feel is the beat of our hearts, moving together in harmony with the rest of the world.



Thump, thump, thump.



 



“You’re making staying over here impossible,



Baby, I must say your aura is incredible,



If you don’t have to go, don’t.”



Please Don’t Stop the Music, Rihanna









well. this is different, non?
it's almost...prose. i dont know - i dont normally write like this, but i thought i'd give it a shot.
tell me how i did in a review? merci beacoup! muchos gracias!
CIAO, MES AMIS!
i believe that was a combination of french, italian AND spanish.
i'm such a beast. ;D




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