Don't you worry about that. I'll get you everything you need to be good and sloshed by the end of the evening.
*James slides her drink towards her, and takes a rather large swig of his own.*
What kept you in the loo? I'm on my second ale already, I'd say you have a bit of catching up to do.
*With that, he drains the last of his beer. James has no plans to pace himself. He knows Lily will want to dance, a task he always finds easier a few drinks back.*
*She eyes James' empty bottle before taking her drink. Her lips pucker as she sips at it.
Gin. She's not used to gin.*
It was proper crowded.
And I ran into that Ramona Green girl. She was a prefect in Ravenclaw, a few years older than us. Remember? She was surprised I wasn't fat from the baby.
Then she offered me some, er.
*With a quick scratch of her left nostril and a meaningful look, Lily hopes James gets the message.*
Could've guessed that one. Ramona Green, you said? Never would've guessed she'd wind up peddling coke in public toilets. She was a proper strict prefect, all the Ravenclaws hated her. Wonder what happened...
*James trails off, as he starts to suspect that guy sitting a few seats down from them is eyeing up Lily from behind. But he's distracted with the return of the bartender, bringing James the shots he's been waiting on. James pushes one of the glasses filled with the crystal green liquid toward Lily, unsure if she'll actually take it.*
*Lily crosses her legs, well aware of her black, sequin dress climbing further up her thighs in the process. Her sheer stockings and high heeled black shoes almost feel over the top, but she wants to feel sexy. And it's not simply to makes James' head turn: It's a much needed mood booster. She's been a lethargic lump since Snape's death, but tonight isn't for replaying horrific scenarios in her head or worrying about the war. Tonight is about top notch dancing, a top notch buzz, and a top notch shag if all goes well.
Her head feels a little lighter, and she's not sure if it's the flashing lights or a mediocre high. Either way, the feeling intensifies as she grasps the shot glass and throws it back. She winces and shudders before giggling a little too loudly.*
*He's reminded of how much he loves Lily's laugh as he takes his own shot. He can't even recall the last time he heard it. He moves in a bit closer to her, and places a hand on the exposed area of her thigh.*
Terrible, isn't it? You might as well have just had two Firewhiskeys.
*He traces a few circles on her thigh with his thumb. He really wants to kiss her, but her bright lipstick is a little intimidating. As good as it looks, he wishes she wouldn't wear it, but separating Lily from her lipstick was about as likely as separating James from his broomstick.*
*She resumes sipping her martini and eyes James beneath lashes heavy with mascara. He's staring at her with that familiar glazed, longing look.
It feels like she's seventeen again, finally coming to the daunting conclusion that she fancies the four eyed, messy haired idiot. It sent her heart pounding, knowing she was desired and finally returning the sentiment. But it was a power trip as well, knowing he watched her. It was a thrill, realizing what a simple stretch of her back or lick of her lips did to him.
Excitement still courses through her now, years after the whirlwind of seventh year; but marriage and war and motherhood are stifling.
Tonight is different, however. She's determined to make it different, and she's determined to feel the thrill again.
Lily leans towards James with an impish grin, trailing a hand from his knee to his hip.*
*James shudders and his legs turn to jelly. It's a bit unfair, he thinks, how she knows exactly what to do to get him worked up, but her turn ons are still largely a mystery to him. Of course, it's a bit easier when wearing a dress as short as hers. James' gray trousers don't provide quite the same advantage.
I haven't forgotten. That's why we came here, isn't it? Not yet though, I er, don't fancy this song much. Rubbish.
*James attempts to signal the bartender. He's stalling, as this song is much too fast for him. This song might require spinning or rhythm or the use of both a left and right foot, whereas all James really wants to do is press Lily's body up against him with some occasional swaying. He's found he's really quite good at that.
*James takes a second shot and barely manages to set it down before being tugged away from the bar. He stumbles a bit, and uses Lily to regain his balance. Maybe that second shot wasn't the greatest idea. However, Lily's words put him at ease; at least her expectations weren't high.*
If it's shit dancing you like, it's shit dancing you shall receive. I distinctly remember one girl comparing me to a wriggling flobberworm-- that wasn't you, was it?
No, I guess it wasn't you. Back then, you wouldn't have said anything nearly that kind.
*He winks at her, and attempts to follow her instructions. She's a thousand times more graceful than he is, even in her tight dress and high heels. He seems to be managing all right though, but it could just be the shots starting to take effect.
He tries spinning her around few times, and it's not perfect, but she's smiling, and it's the most refreshing thing he's seen in months. He's feeling pretty impressed with himself until he feels a strong blow to his back, and falls forward.
He quickly picks himself up, and runs his hands through his hair a few times, hoping to seem unphased by the stumble. He looks around to see who knocked into him. The greasy haired man with tattoos up his arm looked a few years older than him seemed relatively unconcerned with James' fall.*
Fucking... tosser.
*He turns his back, and wraps his arms around Lily, pulling her close.*
So how-- where were we? I can't wait to get you home...
*It's tempting, the idea of letting her lips brush against the shell of James' left ear, lipstick smearing along with it. She'd say, "And do what, exactly?" before taking a few stabs herself, debauchery growing with each titillating scenario as her roaming hand becomes a bit too fresh for public. He'd turn red but have a sloppy, cocky grin, and this would continue for who knows how bloody long.
It's tempting, but the moment is lost when Lily shouts at the stranger's retreating figure.*
Oy, you saw what you did! Don't be a prick! Apologize, will you?
*The man, who has a drink in each hand, takes a sip from one before turning to face Lily. He looks her up and down, pauses, and says, "Excuse me?"
It's not that James doesn't want to tell the guy off either. He does. However, it's not quite as fun as getting all fresh with Lily. But she never lets these things go, or seem to grasp that men don't usually appreciate having women stand up for them. He takes her hand, trying to pull her back towards him.*
S'alright Lily. I’ll be fine. No need to call the hospital or anything.
*Lily wriggles her hand away, directing her attention to the man in front of her. He's a towering sort of figure, with a sort of bulk about him that James certainly lacks. Lily is far from intimidated, however, and prods one of his tattooed arms for emphasis.*
You heard me, mate. Quit acting all hard and just apologize. He could have gotten hurt!
*He's feeling a bit dizzy, and James' fingers are left grasping the air as he tries to keep Lily from pulling away. This could end one of two ways. The guy could give Lily a satisfactory apology and they'd forget the whole thing, or it could escalate into a shouting match leaving Lily too irritated to shag him later. James angrily kicks the floor.
The man isn't too happy about Lily poking his arm, and tries to push her off with his elbow. As he does, most of his drink sloshes over the brim, soaking Lily's chest. He looks at her, outraged. "Now look what you-" He's interrupted by a friend tapping him on the shoulder, and he turns away. When he turns back to Lily, he's collected himself. "Look," he says, speaking slowly. "Your boyfriend's going to be just fine. Stop being a bitch and get out of my fucking face, will you? Unless you want to replace my drink."*
*Lily's mouth hangs open as the chill of the drink seeps through her dress. She can feel the liquid traveling in thick, slow trails along her skin. The smell of it hits her nose, heightening the rest of the smells in the club; sweat and sticky, spilled beer sticking to the bottom of dress shoes.
Her cheeks are red with anger and embarrassment, and by now she's finding it hard to choose her words wisely.*
I'll be happy to replace that stick up your arse with my-
*James slides her drink towards her, and takes a rather large swig of his own.*
What kept you in the loo? I'm on my second ale already, I'd say you have a bit of catching up to do.
*With that, he drains the last of his beer. James has no plans to pace himself. He knows Lily will want to dance, a task he always finds easier a few drinks back.*
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Gin. She's not used to gin.*
It was proper crowded.
And I ran into that Ramona Green girl. She was a prefect in Ravenclaw, a few years older than us. Remember? She was surprised I wasn't fat from the baby.
Then she offered me some, er.
*With a quick scratch of her left nostril and a meaningful look, Lily hopes James gets the message.*
Before you ask, it was rubbish.
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Could've guessed that one. Ramona Green, you said? Never would've guessed she'd wind up peddling coke in public toilets. She was a proper strict prefect, all the Ravenclaws hated her. Wonder what happened...
*James trails off, as he starts to suspect that guy sitting a few seats down from them is eyeing up Lily from behind. But he's distracted with the return of the bartender, bringing James the shots he's been waiting on. James pushes one of the glasses filled with the crystal green liquid toward Lily, unsure if she'll actually take it.*
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*Lily crosses her legs, well aware of her black, sequin dress climbing further up her thighs in the process. Her sheer stockings and high heeled black shoes almost feel over the top, but she wants to feel sexy. And it's not simply to makes James' head turn: It's a much needed mood booster. She's been a lethargic lump since Snape's death, but tonight isn't for replaying horrific scenarios in her head or worrying about the war. Tonight is about top notch dancing, a top notch buzz, and a top notch shag if all goes well.
Her head feels a little lighter, and she's not sure if it's the flashing lights or a mediocre high. Either way, the feeling intensifies as she grasps the shot glass and throws it back. She winces and shudders before giggling a little too loudly.*
What the fuck was that?
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Terrible, isn't it? You might as well have just had two Firewhiskeys.
*He traces a few circles on her thigh with his thumb. He really wants to kiss her, but her bright lipstick is a little intimidating. As good as it looks, he wishes she wouldn't wear it, but separating Lily from her lipstick was about as likely as separating James from his broomstick.*
So, fancy another?
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*She resumes sipping her martini and eyes James beneath lashes heavy with mascara. He's staring at her with that familiar glazed, longing look.
It feels like she's seventeen again, finally coming to the daunting conclusion that she fancies the four eyed, messy haired idiot. It sent her heart pounding, knowing she was desired and finally returning the sentiment. But it was a power trip as well, knowing he watched her. It was a thrill, realizing what a simple stretch of her back or lick of her lips did to him.
Excitement still courses through her now, years after the whirlwind of seventh year; but marriage and war and motherhood are stifling.
Tonight is different, however. She's determined to make it different, and she's determined to feel the thrill again.
Lily leans towards James with an impish grin, trailing a hand from his knee to his hip.*
In case you've forgotten, you owe me a dance.
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I haven't forgotten. That's why we came here, isn't it? Not yet though, I er, don't fancy this song much. Rubbish.
*James attempts to signal the bartender. He's stalling, as this song is much too fast for him. This song might require spinning or rhythm or the use of both a left and right foot, whereas all James really wants to do is press Lily's body up against him with some occasional swaying. He's found he's really quite good at that.
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*With a tug of James' arm, Lily hops out of the slender bar stool and drags James to the dance floor.*
I like your shit dancing!
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However, Lily's words put him at ease; at least her expectations weren't high.*
If it's shit dancing you like, it's shit dancing you shall receive. I distinctly remember one girl comparing me to a wriggling flobberworm-- that wasn't you, was it?
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Come on, just move your hips a little, yeah? Feet too.
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*He winks at her, and attempts to follow her instructions. She's a thousand times more graceful than he is, even in her tight dress and high heels. He seems to be managing all right though, but it could just be the shots starting to take effect.
He tries spinning her around few times, and it's not perfect, but she's smiling, and it's the most refreshing thing he's seen in months. He's feeling pretty impressed with himself until he feels a strong blow to his back, and falls forward.
He quickly picks himself up, and runs his hands through his hair a few times, hoping to seem unphased by the stumble. He looks around to see who knocked into him. The greasy haired man with tattoos up his arm looked a few years older than him seemed relatively unconcerned with James' fall.*
Fucking... tosser.
*He turns his back, and wraps his arms around Lily, pulling her close.*
So how-- where were we? I can't wait to get you home...
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*It's tempting, the idea of letting her lips brush against the shell of James' left ear, lipstick smearing along with it. She'd say, "And do what, exactly?" before taking a few stabs herself, debauchery growing with each titillating scenario as her roaming hand becomes a bit too fresh for public. He'd turn red but have a sloppy, cocky grin, and this would continue for who knows how bloody long.
It's tempting, but the moment is lost when Lily shouts at the stranger's retreating figure.*
Oy, you saw what you did! Don't be a prick! Apologize, will you?
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It's not that James doesn't want to tell the guy off either. He does. However, it's not quite as fun as getting all fresh with Lily. But she never lets these things go, or seem to grasp that men don't usually appreciate having women stand up for them. He takes her hand, trying to pull her back towards him.*
S'alright Lily. I’ll be fine. No need to call the hospital or anything.
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You heard me, mate. Quit acting all hard and just apologize. He could have gotten hurt!
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The man isn't too happy about Lily poking his arm, and tries to push her off with his elbow. As he does, most of his drink sloshes over the brim, soaking Lily's chest. He looks at her, outraged. "Now look what you-" He's interrupted by a friend tapping him on the shoulder, and he turns away. When he turns back to Lily, he's collected himself. "Look," he says, speaking slowly. "Your boyfriend's going to be just fine. Stop being a bitch and get out of my fucking face, will you? Unless you want to replace my drink."*
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Her cheeks are red with anger and embarrassment, and by now she's finding it hard to choose her words wisely.*
I'll be happy to replace that stick up your arse with my-
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