That night, after James had showered and dressed for bed he lay down on his four-poster with the curtains drawn back and waited for Lily. He stared at the ceiling, his hands locked behind his head, and thought about things. Mainly, Lily. He'd done that a lot lately.
Soon Lily knocked at the door, and he told her to come in. She looked incredibly snug and fresh in her navy drawstring pants and white t-shirt. Her hair was tied back loosely at the nape of her neck, and she was barefoot. She started to come in, but then noticed he was lying down in his bed, and hung back shyly.
"Come here," James said, smiling slightly. Lily took a step back.
"No, I er -- I ought t-to --"
"Lily," James cut her off. He patted the sheets beside him "I won't hurt you."
"Oh . . ." She softened and came over to stand by the bed. "It's just . . . I'm not allowed to be in here at all, and we're Head Boy and Girl, and . . . if we were caught. . ."
"Lie down with me, Lily. Just for a little while?"
She wanted to, James could see that, but she was afraid to. He recalled his fantasies about her that afteroon on the couch in the common room, and forced them to the back of his mnd. He took her hand and their fingers interlocked, and she sighed and crawled under the covers next to him.
He pulled her closer, his arms firmly holding her against him. Be careful with her, he ordered himself. Her eyes shined into his, full of bright happiness and innocence. He kissed her softly. Be careful. Lily wrapped her arms around his neck and responded to his kiss. Be careful. The kiss became fervent, and his hands moved down her back and lifted her shirt just enough to feel her bare skin. He tried not to kiss her quite so intensely, but he didn't think his heart -- or his lips, for that matter -- was connected to his brain at all, and Lily did not seem to have a problem with his passion.
His lips left hers and he kissed her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, and her skin got softer and softer the lower he went. It was getting difficult not to lose his head completely -- be careful. He fought a sudden desire to move on top of her -- be careful -- but then his lips found Lily's again, an she kissed h with such ardency, her hands around his neck and caressing his hair that he felt something inside him would burst unless he obtained from her what he most passionately desired, or unless he stopped kissing her.
He chose the latter, wisely enough, and fell away from her back onto the bed, panting slightly.
"James?" Lily whispered. He shook his head slightly, suddenly wishing she wasn't there, so that he could be alone with his thoughts and try to make sense of the storm brewing within him. "James, what's wrong?"
He looked at her silently. She didn't know, did she? She didn't feel what he felt when he was touching her . . .
"James, don't look at me like that. You're scaring me," Lily said softly, her green eyes troubled.
He sighed and put one hand to her cheek. "I'm sorry . . ."
LIly gave him a bewildered gaze. "For what?"
For thinking about you like this. And the more innocent you seem, the more I want you . . .
He said nothing.
Lily put her hand on top of his and held it. "James, what is it? What are you thinking?"
He liked it when she whispered his name.
"Something I shouldn't be," he answered.
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