Battlefield
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Lily/James
Length: 3720 word one-shot
Summary: She never meant to start a war. "Well, then, Evans. I guess you'd better go and get your armor. I'm surprised you went a day without it covering you to the teeth."
"Don't try to explain your mind, James. I know what's happening here." The words are scathing and full of a dangerous heat. She can't believe she had been so stupid, had ever considered they could be friends, had thought that maybe they could…
One minute it's love and suddenly it's like a battlefield with the two of them.
"Alice, I have no idea what to do. I'm going insane thinking about it," Lily sighed to her friend, plopping on the edge of her bed and groaning, gripping her hair in her hands and doubling over, trying not to viciously attack the nearby pillows in frustration.
"Well, do you like him or not?" Alice popped the bubble she had just blown with her gum, acting like it was really that easy.
"Have you not been listening to me rant for the past hour? I don't know! He's still infuriating, but he doesn't just hex people willy-nilly, and I just don't know. He's always been able to...
"Rile you up?" Alice suggested with a smirk. Lily glared, but didn't argue.
"But I never even used to have to consider…us, because even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have. He was such a jerk to Sev, and so full of himself. But now…" She trailed off, because what else was there to say? He made her feel funny, but she wasn't sure if she liked it. She wasn't sure of anything, least of all whether he was really as trustworthy as she wanted to believe.
"It sounds like you like him, Lils." Lily rewarded this announcement with a groan.
"Well, he's…amazing. I mean, he makes me want to punch a wall half the time, but he's got such a...a magnetic personality and we have to spend so much time together on patrols and at meetings- "
"And in class? And at meals, and in the hallways…" Alice listed, laughing at her own teasing.
"But, then we fight! He probably doesn't even care about me and I can't help getting defensive.
Sometimes he brings out the worst in me, and I hate that." She paused. "I don't think I like him," she finished declaratively. Alice snorted.
"Okay, Lily." Lily made a face at her and punched Alice's pillow.
"So tell me, Lily, what's happening?" James demands to know. He crosses his arms and he's looming over her and she can't help but swallow because, honestly, what kind of girl doesn't react to James Potter being so incredibly manly, with the tendons in his arms taut, the line of his jaw prominent and tense with anger? With him so close, she can see past the glasses and she never knew he had hazel eyes. Funny how a transparent barrier can seem so opaque.
"Y- you're playing nice! You're trying to act like you're a good guy so we can be friends and then… then you're going to- agh!" She throws up her hands and whirls around to face away from him, because she doesn't know how to finish the sentence. She can't think of a reason he'd go to the trouble to deceive her; what would he do, get her to admit to being friends and then yell, "Gotcha!" and run away giggling? But the awful feeling isn't going away, and she knows that he'll hurt her.
"I say one thing, Evans, and all of a sudden I'm a fake? Merlin, one word turns into a war with you!" He sounds angry and exasperated, but she can't see him.Why is it the smallest things that tear us down? She doesn't know what to say and can barely remember why they are fighting. But she knows that he makes her feel so goddamned uncomfortable all the time and she hates that what she most wants to hear right now is just that he cares, one way or another. She can't stand the thought that he's indifferent, and when they're fighting, she can tell he cares- somehow, he cares.
"You know, I'm not here without...without a shield, if that makes any sense." He's still mad, or at least he sounds it, but he's calmer now. "I have to have one, to deal with all your rejections," he continues, and Lily's heart catches. "But, damn, Lily, it's nothing to the one you've got up. I can't go back now. I'm in this. And I thought we were friends but if this is what you think of me, if we can't spend any time together without blowing up, then you'd better walk away." He's quiet but firm and sometime during his speech she had turned back around; his eyes are determined and she can tell he's holding something back, keeping it coiled tight within him.
She remembers his earlier words and thinks, I never meant to start a war. She wants to tell him, to tell him that she never wants to hurt him, not really, anyway, but it's like her mouth is gagged and her hands are tied behind her back with nothing, nothing but thin air and pride. She wonders again that she doesn't even know what they're fighting for. Why does…this…always feel like a battlefield? She never wants to lose ground, and she isn't sure what winning would mean, but she knows she can't lay down arms or he will crush her.
"Lily, you're a very guarded person."
"What? Huh?" Alice repeated herself as Lily looked up from her essay. "Alice, I tell you everything!" Lily said in surprise.
"Yeah, but only me. I mean, not everyone's like Petunia, you know," Alice said slowly, twirling her pen in between her fingers- a Christmas present from Lily that she had come to love ("So much neater than quills!").
"I know that. I'm just don't announce my private doings to the world. What's this about?" Lily didn't like being boxed into some category. She didn't like to think of people saying about her, "Oh, Lily, she's one of those 'terribly wounded' girls who has a hard time trusting people now and might even have some self esteem issues." That wasn't her. She was just Lily.
"I just think you ought to give James a chance. A chance," she said again quickly, before Lily could interrupt as she was clearly about to do, "not a date or anything. I think that it's unfair you get to keep your guard up while he lets his down," she finished, shrugging.
"Alice! He's a right jerk! You've seen him with Sev! And let me tell you, he does not let his guard down with me. I can't believe he's fooled you, too. He's not madly in love with me- he's just…I don't know. Being a stupid teenage boy asking the redheaded girl out for fun."
"Maybe one day you should turn around and look back at him after you say no," Alice said cryptically before leaving Lily to her OWL studies, puzzled by the short and unexpected exchange.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, but she hears the ring of falsity when she says it. It occurs to her that maybe the thing she's afraid of isn't that he doesn't care about her, but that he does. Her face feels like it's roasting.
"And the kicker," he starts, all trace of anger gone now as he looks at her softly, almost sadly, "is that it's all because we just can't swallow our pride. Neither of us wants to raise that flag. You won't say…well, that you think I might not be so awful. And I? Well, I won't say a lot of things." Lily wants to tell him that she doesn't think he's awful; even if she's not quite sure how she does feel about him, she doesn't think that. And she really really wants to know what he won't say. Maybe the war metaphor was a bit much, but it fit; she needs him to surrender, because she can't, not before he does.
"I really don't know what you're going on about. You're the one whose head's as big as the Quidditch Pitch; I don't think my pride is getting in the way here." Lily fights the urge to wince and loses. She wants to look away from James, hide behind her mass of red frizz, but is too fascinated and horrified by the crystallization occurring in his eyes. As she watches, his eyes go from open and feeling to hard and distant, and she has a feeling that she's just made a bigger mistake than she realized; he had already surrendered, and she was just too big of a succubus to notice, to respond in kind.
"You think you're so much better than me, Evans. I can't stand it! I know I've done some stupid stuff, and because you keep your head and follow the rules, you think you're better than me. Well, maybe you are, but don't think you're miles out of my league, because you're just as proud and stubborn as I am and you know it," James hissed before stalking off to board the Express for Christmas holidays sixth year. He'd asked her out quietly, a first, and she'd said no, of course. What she hadn't expected was the fleeting look of dejection that followed. She had desperately wanted to pretend it wasn't real.
"Don't pretend I've hurt your ego, Potter. God knows a pinprick like this wouldn't put a dent in your stubborn arrogance," she'd scoffed, secretly surprised and vaguely horrified by her words. He had stared with a look of shock on his face before bursting out with that speech. Lily, throughout the rest of the year, tried to ignore the fact that this argument coincided with the last time he ever asked her out. It was harder to ignore the little piece of paper that floated out of his pocket as he stormed away. A sketchily drawn snitch, adorned with intricately decorated letters.
JP & LE.
"Well, then, Evans. I guess you'd better go and get your armor. I'm surprised you went a day without it covering you to the teeth. If you'd had it on, you never would have even talked to me." He is somehow both mean and distant, spiteful and disinterested. She steps back and suddenly notices that they've been rowing in the middle of the night on the third floor corridor; anybody could have been listening. Details like where they are always fade away when clash, even sometimes when they don't. She is shaking her head without meaning to, trying to rid her eyes of the tears that are there. He's fought with her plenty, but only ever challengingly. Not mean. Never mean.
He looks stricken for a moment before screwing his eyes shut, putting his fingers to his temples and sighing. She hates that he's a better person than her, overcoming his pettiness while she cannot.
"Look, Evans. We…we can pretend that we're friends tonight, ok? We just need to stop arguing, go to bed and get some sleep. In the morning we'll wake up and, you know, we'll be alright," he sounds like it hurts to say this, and she imagines it does. Why is he the one to always bridge the gap between them? And why did he say "pretend" that they're friends? Does he not want to be her friend anymore? She wishes now that she were angry still, because then she wouldn't feel so silly and vulnerable, grasping at air for something to say, to fix it or break it. She can't stand this in-between they're always in, where she doesn't know if she loves him or hates him.
He looks at her for another moment, and she really looks at him. It's the same hair she's always seen, dark and thick and full of life. The same face, too, a little long but strong. She's always known he was tall, but now she sees that he stands up straight and proud and she can't help but admire that in him. Lily thinks James might be giving up, ready to go trudge back to his dorm.
"James? I," she falters, but sees the set of his jaw and remembers that he has done worse than this for her. "I never meant to start a war," she whispers, hoping he understands. He sighs again. Was that the wrong thing to say? She can't fathom what the right thing would be.
"Yeah, Lily, I know. That's the problem. You, well, we, I guess, start wars and you don't even know what we're fighting for." He seems disappointed and it hurts her. Even though she had just been thinking this not five minutes ago, she argues.
"I know what we fight about. I mean, yeah, it's stupid sometimes, but-"
"No, Lily. Not what we're fighting about. What we're fighting for." This makes no sense to her and yet she understands completely. The only problem is that there is no way her Gryffindor courage is enough to make her brave enough to say it out loud. She looks down at the ground instead. From this angle, she can see his hand twitch as though it wants to reach out to her. His hands look big and strong, just like a boy's ought to. Lily mumbles something noncommittal, knowing that he'll be the bigger person once again and let her be a coward.
"What was that, Lily?" he asks, shifting closer to hear her. She glances up and the determined mettle is back in his eyes. She instinctively backs up and wonders what he expects from her. He isn't letting her get away with it this time, apparently.
"Nothing," she responds, being as obtuse as possible. He steps forward again.
"I think you said something."
"It was really nothing," she replies, and it's technically the truth but she knows he's fishing for something.
"Well, if what you said was nothing, then tell me what you didn't say." She wishes he was stupid or weak or anything else but James.
"I don't know what you mean." She's worried her eyes are darting around like a cornered deer's, even though she's in a wide-open hallway. He is stalking her, slowly, trying not to scare her, she thinks, but still forcing her where he wants.
"Lily. Yes, you do." He's speaking as slowly as he is advancing on her, and though she's maintaining the same distance between them, she's very unsettled by this behavior.
"No," she growls, "I don't. What are you playing at?" He smiles and takes another step forward. She starts to take a step back, but remembers the time she saw a fencing match with her dad, and holds her ground. The retreating player is the losing player. He takes another step forward and she starts sweating- she still feels like the losing player. Their hands can reach now. One more step and they could awkwardly hug. A step further and they could… she won't think about that.
"Lily. For once, look at me and be honest." She knows now that his eyes are hazel, but when she looks at them she sees no color at all, just honest orbs beneath a serious brow. She can't remember why exactly she thought she didn't love him or that being together would be a bad idea or that he doesn't care, but there's still that vague sense of uncertainty and fear tugging her down.
"About what, James?" They are very quiet now.
"Why we're fighting."
"I got mad at you."
"Not why we fought today. Why we're always fighting."
"Because you infuriate me."
"Do you know why I infuriate you, Lily?" He has inched closer somehow and his head is dipped low to look in her eyes. She knows if she was just a few centimeters closer she could feel his breath on her face. A part of her wants to shuffle forward.
"Because you're an infuriating person?" she guesses, no longer being obtuse on purpose.
"Maybe," he concedes softly, "but that's not why you're bothered by me."
"Why am I bothered by you?"
"I think you know, Lily," he says, and reaches out and grabs her hand. She looks down at their hands and can't possibly believe that this gentle man in front of her could ever want to hurt her, but she doesn't know how to say what he wants her to say. So instead she says, "You know I never want to hurt you," the words she couldn't get out before but feels are important now.
"Lily." It sounds like a command and she raises her head. "You know why I bother you. Why you… never want to hurt me," he echoes her words back at her.
"Yes." She's never sounded so meek before, not that she can remember, anyway. She doesn't think she meant to say it, to admit that she knows exactly what he's talking about. She thinks that she doesn't have to admit she lo…well, she doesn't have to say anything else. He looks shocked, like he never expected her to admit it.
"What?" At his surprised question, she guesses she was right about that and actually laughs a little. His eyebrows lift a little higher, but he smiles a tad in response before that intense, expectant expression takes over again. He doesn't have to encourage her again; just the look on his face, shocked and on the verge of overwhelming happiness or crushing disappointment, is enough to embolden her. She knows it's all down to what she says next and it's not really a choice anymore. She takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment before letting it whoosh out of her. She can't believe this is happening.
"You infuriate me because I," big gulp, "I love you." It doesn't seem like enough so she continues, "And I was too stupid to trust you." His face is inscrutable and her face, which has been burning for what feels like forever, seems to swell with the heat. She wonders if she looks as awful as she feels and if that's why he's not whooping with joy and kissing her. Then a look of wonder, almost, crosses his face and she's nervous but hopeful until he takes his hand from hers. Confused and disappointed, she continues to look at him, waiting. His hand hesitantly comes up to cradle her face and she is horrified to feel tears threatening to make an appearance on the scene. She closes her eyes and nuzzles into his hand, wishing the tears away so she can stop feeling like a complete idiot.
She thinks ironically that this was not to be, however, when he suddenly crushes her into a hug, holding her against him like he'll never let her go and she feels so warm and loved that the teary feeling becomes full-fledged weeping. She clutches at his shirt and as she burrows her face into his chest he burrows his into her hair. One of his hands is making soothing circles on her back, but the other is still clinging.
They stand there hugging for a few minutes until she stops crying and pulls away a little to look at him, embarrassed. He still has that look of awe and a moment after they make eye contact, he lifts her up and swings her around, shocking her into giggling and pounding him to let her down, even though she thinks it's the most romantic thing that's ever happened to her. He obliges after a few twirls, and scoops her into another hug, a proper one this time, and releases her to get down on one knee.
"Lily Evans," he starts, holding her hands and looking up at her like he's the tides and she's the moon, "will you please, after four years of begging and two of secret pining, go out with me?" She laughs and starts to say yes when a bad feeling sinks into her stomach. He must see the change in her face because he instantly looks ill and pops up to grab her by the arms. "Lily, no. You can't take it back. I won't let you," he says, half confidently determined and half desperate.
"James…what if we shouldn't?" she asks, not sure if it's rhetorical or not. This must not have been what James was expecting, because his brow furrows slightly and she explains. "It's just, I think you're possibly the most incredible person I've ever met, but I don't know if that means we're supposed to, you know. Date," she finishes in a whisper, like it's some sort of secret. He's still holding her arms, but she looks down at her shoes as though he's not so close, as though she could still hide if she wanted.
"Why in the name of Merlin's eyebrow dandruff wouldn't it?" It's a sort of strangled cry, even though she can tell he's trying to joke. She's always known, somewhere in the back of her head, that he uses jokes and pranks as a defense mechanism sometimes, and it makes her sad now that he should take such a bright part of his personality and twist it to something so... mundane, and sad.
"Why does love always feel like a battlefield?" she asks. She hopes he understands what she means. Who wants that kind of relationship, is what she's trying to say. He stops and thinks, his hold on her loosening. After a minute, he looks down at her, not ill or upset or frightened.
"Lily? You know what? I don't think love does feel like a battlefield. I think pride does." And then he kisses her because, well, he'd waited seven years to and she'd finally given him permission (of a sort), he tells her later.
Baby, we don't have to fight, she thinks. But if this is making up, then you'd better go and get your armor. The battle goes on...
Pairing: Lily/James
Length: 3720 word one-shot
Summary: She never meant to start a war. "Well, then, Evans. I guess you'd better go and get your armor. I'm surprised you went a day without it covering you to the teeth."
"Don't try to explain your mind, James. I know what's happening here." The words are scathing and full of a dangerous heat. She can't believe she had been so stupid, had ever considered they could be friends, had thought that maybe they could…
One minute it's love and suddenly it's like a battlefield with the two of them.
"Alice, I have no idea what to do. I'm going insane thinking about it," Lily sighed to her friend, plopping on the edge of her bed and groaning, gripping her hair in her hands and doubling over, trying not to viciously attack the nearby pillows in frustration.
"Well, do you like him or not?" Alice popped the bubble she had just blown with her gum, acting like it was really that easy.
"Have you not been listening to me rant for the past hour? I don't know! He's still infuriating, but he doesn't just hex people willy-nilly, and I just don't know. He's always been able to...
"Rile you up?" Alice suggested with a smirk. Lily glared, but didn't argue.
"But I never even used to have to consider…us, because even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have. He was such a jerk to Sev, and so full of himself. But now…" She trailed off, because what else was there to say? He made her feel funny, but she wasn't sure if she liked it. She wasn't sure of anything, least of all whether he was really as trustworthy as she wanted to believe.
"It sounds like you like him, Lils." Lily rewarded this announcement with a groan.
"Well, he's…amazing. I mean, he makes me want to punch a wall half the time, but he's got such a...a magnetic personality and we have to spend so much time together on patrols and at meetings- "
"And in class? And at meals, and in the hallways…" Alice listed, laughing at her own teasing.
"But, then we fight! He probably doesn't even care about me and I can't help getting defensive.
Sometimes he brings out the worst in me, and I hate that." She paused. "I don't think I like him," she finished declaratively. Alice snorted.
"Okay, Lily." Lily made a face at her and punched Alice's pillow.
"So tell me, Lily, what's happening?" James demands to know. He crosses his arms and he's looming over her and she can't help but swallow because, honestly, what kind of girl doesn't react to James Potter being so incredibly manly, with the tendons in his arms taut, the line of his jaw prominent and tense with anger? With him so close, she can see past the glasses and she never knew he had hazel eyes. Funny how a transparent barrier can seem so opaque.
"Y- you're playing nice! You're trying to act like you're a good guy so we can be friends and then… then you're going to- agh!" She throws up her hands and whirls around to face away from him, because she doesn't know how to finish the sentence. She can't think of a reason he'd go to the trouble to deceive her; what would he do, get her to admit to being friends and then yell, "Gotcha!" and run away giggling? But the awful feeling isn't going away, and she knows that he'll hurt her.
"I say one thing, Evans, and all of a sudden I'm a fake? Merlin, one word turns into a war with you!" He sounds angry and exasperated, but she can't see him.Why is it the smallest things that tear us down? She doesn't know what to say and can barely remember why they are fighting. But she knows that he makes her feel so goddamned uncomfortable all the time and she hates that what she most wants to hear right now is just that he cares, one way or another. She can't stand the thought that he's indifferent, and when they're fighting, she can tell he cares- somehow, he cares.
"You know, I'm not here without...without a shield, if that makes any sense." He's still mad, or at least he sounds it, but he's calmer now. "I have to have one, to deal with all your rejections," he continues, and Lily's heart catches. "But, damn, Lily, it's nothing to the one you've got up. I can't go back now. I'm in this. And I thought we were friends but if this is what you think of me, if we can't spend any time together without blowing up, then you'd better walk away." He's quiet but firm and sometime during his speech she had turned back around; his eyes are determined and she can tell he's holding something back, keeping it coiled tight within him.
She remembers his earlier words and thinks, I never meant to start a war. She wants to tell him, to tell him that she never wants to hurt him, not really, anyway, but it's like her mouth is gagged and her hands are tied behind her back with nothing, nothing but thin air and pride. She wonders again that she doesn't even know what they're fighting for. Why does…this…always feel like a battlefield? She never wants to lose ground, and she isn't sure what winning would mean, but she knows she can't lay down arms or he will crush her.
"Lily, you're a very guarded person."
"What? Huh?" Alice repeated herself as Lily looked up from her essay. "Alice, I tell you everything!" Lily said in surprise.
"Yeah, but only me. I mean, not everyone's like Petunia, you know," Alice said slowly, twirling her pen in between her fingers- a Christmas present from Lily that she had come to love ("So much neater than quills!").
"I know that. I'm just don't announce my private doings to the world. What's this about?" Lily didn't like being boxed into some category. She didn't like to think of people saying about her, "Oh, Lily, she's one of those 'terribly wounded' girls who has a hard time trusting people now and might even have some self esteem issues." That wasn't her. She was just Lily.
"I just think you ought to give James a chance. A chance," she said again quickly, before Lily could interrupt as she was clearly about to do, "not a date or anything. I think that it's unfair you get to keep your guard up while he lets his down," she finished, shrugging.
"Alice! He's a right jerk! You've seen him with Sev! And let me tell you, he does not let his guard down with me. I can't believe he's fooled you, too. He's not madly in love with me- he's just…I don't know. Being a stupid teenage boy asking the redheaded girl out for fun."
"Maybe one day you should turn around and look back at him after you say no," Alice said cryptically before leaving Lily to her OWL studies, puzzled by the short and unexpected exchange.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, but she hears the ring of falsity when she says it. It occurs to her that maybe the thing she's afraid of isn't that he doesn't care about her, but that he does. Her face feels like it's roasting.
"And the kicker," he starts, all trace of anger gone now as he looks at her softly, almost sadly, "is that it's all because we just can't swallow our pride. Neither of us wants to raise that flag. You won't say…well, that you think I might not be so awful. And I? Well, I won't say a lot of things." Lily wants to tell him that she doesn't think he's awful; even if she's not quite sure how she does feel about him, she doesn't think that. And she really really wants to know what he won't say. Maybe the war metaphor was a bit much, but it fit; she needs him to surrender, because she can't, not before he does.
"I really don't know what you're going on about. You're the one whose head's as big as the Quidditch Pitch; I don't think my pride is getting in the way here." Lily fights the urge to wince and loses. She wants to look away from James, hide behind her mass of red frizz, but is too fascinated and horrified by the crystallization occurring in his eyes. As she watches, his eyes go from open and feeling to hard and distant, and she has a feeling that she's just made a bigger mistake than she realized; he had already surrendered, and she was just too big of a succubus to notice, to respond in kind.
"You think you're so much better than me, Evans. I can't stand it! I know I've done some stupid stuff, and because you keep your head and follow the rules, you think you're better than me. Well, maybe you are, but don't think you're miles out of my league, because you're just as proud and stubborn as I am and you know it," James hissed before stalking off to board the Express for Christmas holidays sixth year. He'd asked her out quietly, a first, and she'd said no, of course. What she hadn't expected was the fleeting look of dejection that followed. She had desperately wanted to pretend it wasn't real.
"Don't pretend I've hurt your ego, Potter. God knows a pinprick like this wouldn't put a dent in your stubborn arrogance," she'd scoffed, secretly surprised and vaguely horrified by her words. He had stared with a look of shock on his face before bursting out with that speech. Lily, throughout the rest of the year, tried to ignore the fact that this argument coincided with the last time he ever asked her out. It was harder to ignore the little piece of paper that floated out of his pocket as he stormed away. A sketchily drawn snitch, adorned with intricately decorated letters.
JP & LE.
"Well, then, Evans. I guess you'd better go and get your armor. I'm surprised you went a day without it covering you to the teeth. If you'd had it on, you never would have even talked to me." He is somehow both mean and distant, spiteful and disinterested. She steps back and suddenly notices that they've been rowing in the middle of the night on the third floor corridor; anybody could have been listening. Details like where they are always fade away when clash, even sometimes when they don't. She is shaking her head without meaning to, trying to rid her eyes of the tears that are there. He's fought with her plenty, but only ever challengingly. Not mean. Never mean.
He looks stricken for a moment before screwing his eyes shut, putting his fingers to his temples and sighing. She hates that he's a better person than her, overcoming his pettiness while she cannot.
"Look, Evans. We…we can pretend that we're friends tonight, ok? We just need to stop arguing, go to bed and get some sleep. In the morning we'll wake up and, you know, we'll be alright," he sounds like it hurts to say this, and she imagines it does. Why is he the one to always bridge the gap between them? And why did he say "pretend" that they're friends? Does he not want to be her friend anymore? She wishes now that she were angry still, because then she wouldn't feel so silly and vulnerable, grasping at air for something to say, to fix it or break it. She can't stand this in-between they're always in, where she doesn't know if she loves him or hates him.
He looks at her for another moment, and she really looks at him. It's the same hair she's always seen, dark and thick and full of life. The same face, too, a little long but strong. She's always known he was tall, but now she sees that he stands up straight and proud and she can't help but admire that in him. Lily thinks James might be giving up, ready to go trudge back to his dorm.
"James? I," she falters, but sees the set of his jaw and remembers that he has done worse than this for her. "I never meant to start a war," she whispers, hoping he understands. He sighs again. Was that the wrong thing to say? She can't fathom what the right thing would be.
"Yeah, Lily, I know. That's the problem. You, well, we, I guess, start wars and you don't even know what we're fighting for." He seems disappointed and it hurts her. Even though she had just been thinking this not five minutes ago, she argues.
"I know what we fight about. I mean, yeah, it's stupid sometimes, but-"
"No, Lily. Not what we're fighting about. What we're fighting for." This makes no sense to her and yet she understands completely. The only problem is that there is no way her Gryffindor courage is enough to make her brave enough to say it out loud. She looks down at the ground instead. From this angle, she can see his hand twitch as though it wants to reach out to her. His hands look big and strong, just like a boy's ought to. Lily mumbles something noncommittal, knowing that he'll be the bigger person once again and let her be a coward.
"What was that, Lily?" he asks, shifting closer to hear her. She glances up and the determined mettle is back in his eyes. She instinctively backs up and wonders what he expects from her. He isn't letting her get away with it this time, apparently.
"Nothing," she responds, being as obtuse as possible. He steps forward again.
"I think you said something."
"It was really nothing," she replies, and it's technically the truth but she knows he's fishing for something.
"Well, if what you said was nothing, then tell me what you didn't say." She wishes he was stupid or weak or anything else but James.
"I don't know what you mean." She's worried her eyes are darting around like a cornered deer's, even though she's in a wide-open hallway. He is stalking her, slowly, trying not to scare her, she thinks, but still forcing her where he wants.
"Lily. Yes, you do." He's speaking as slowly as he is advancing on her, and though she's maintaining the same distance between them, she's very unsettled by this behavior.
"No," she growls, "I don't. What are you playing at?" He smiles and takes another step forward. She starts to take a step back, but remembers the time she saw a fencing match with her dad, and holds her ground. The retreating player is the losing player. He takes another step forward and she starts sweating- she still feels like the losing player. Their hands can reach now. One more step and they could awkwardly hug. A step further and they could… she won't think about that.
"Lily. For once, look at me and be honest." She knows now that his eyes are hazel, but when she looks at them she sees no color at all, just honest orbs beneath a serious brow. She can't remember why exactly she thought she didn't love him or that being together would be a bad idea or that he doesn't care, but there's still that vague sense of uncertainty and fear tugging her down.
"About what, James?" They are very quiet now.
"Why we're fighting."
"I got mad at you."
"Not why we fought today. Why we're always fighting."
"Because you infuriate me."
"Do you know why I infuriate you, Lily?" He has inched closer somehow and his head is dipped low to look in her eyes. She knows if she was just a few centimeters closer she could feel his breath on her face. A part of her wants to shuffle forward.
"Because you're an infuriating person?" she guesses, no longer being obtuse on purpose.
"Maybe," he concedes softly, "but that's not why you're bothered by me."
"Why am I bothered by you?"
"I think you know, Lily," he says, and reaches out and grabs her hand. She looks down at their hands and can't possibly believe that this gentle man in front of her could ever want to hurt her, but she doesn't know how to say what he wants her to say. So instead she says, "You know I never want to hurt you," the words she couldn't get out before but feels are important now.
"Lily." It sounds like a command and she raises her head. "You know why I bother you. Why you… never want to hurt me," he echoes her words back at her.
"Yes." She's never sounded so meek before, not that she can remember, anyway. She doesn't think she meant to say it, to admit that she knows exactly what he's talking about. She thinks that she doesn't have to admit she lo…well, she doesn't have to say anything else. He looks shocked, like he never expected her to admit it.
"What?" At his surprised question, she guesses she was right about that and actually laughs a little. His eyebrows lift a little higher, but he smiles a tad in response before that intense, expectant expression takes over again. He doesn't have to encourage her again; just the look on his face, shocked and on the verge of overwhelming happiness or crushing disappointment, is enough to embolden her. She knows it's all down to what she says next and it's not really a choice anymore. She takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment before letting it whoosh out of her. She can't believe this is happening.
"You infuriate me because I," big gulp, "I love you." It doesn't seem like enough so she continues, "And I was too stupid to trust you." His face is inscrutable and her face, which has been burning for what feels like forever, seems to swell with the heat. She wonders if she looks as awful as she feels and if that's why he's not whooping with joy and kissing her. Then a look of wonder, almost, crosses his face and she's nervous but hopeful until he takes his hand from hers. Confused and disappointed, she continues to look at him, waiting. His hand hesitantly comes up to cradle her face and she is horrified to feel tears threatening to make an appearance on the scene. She closes her eyes and nuzzles into his hand, wishing the tears away so she can stop feeling like a complete idiot.
She thinks ironically that this was not to be, however, when he suddenly crushes her into a hug, holding her against him like he'll never let her go and she feels so warm and loved that the teary feeling becomes full-fledged weeping. She clutches at his shirt and as she burrows her face into his chest he burrows his into her hair. One of his hands is making soothing circles on her back, but the other is still clinging.
They stand there hugging for a few minutes until she stops crying and pulls away a little to look at him, embarrassed. He still has that look of awe and a moment after they make eye contact, he lifts her up and swings her around, shocking her into giggling and pounding him to let her down, even though she thinks it's the most romantic thing that's ever happened to her. He obliges after a few twirls, and scoops her into another hug, a proper one this time, and releases her to get down on one knee.
"Lily Evans," he starts, holding her hands and looking up at her like he's the tides and she's the moon, "will you please, after four years of begging and two of secret pining, go out with me?" She laughs and starts to say yes when a bad feeling sinks into her stomach. He must see the change in her face because he instantly looks ill and pops up to grab her by the arms. "Lily, no. You can't take it back. I won't let you," he says, half confidently determined and half desperate.
"James…what if we shouldn't?" she asks, not sure if it's rhetorical or not. This must not have been what James was expecting, because his brow furrows slightly and she explains. "It's just, I think you're possibly the most incredible person I've ever met, but I don't know if that means we're supposed to, you know. Date," she finishes in a whisper, like it's some sort of secret. He's still holding her arms, but she looks down at her shoes as though he's not so close, as though she could still hide if she wanted.
"Why in the name of Merlin's eyebrow dandruff wouldn't it?" It's a sort of strangled cry, even though she can tell he's trying to joke. She's always known, somewhere in the back of her head, that he uses jokes and pranks as a defense mechanism sometimes, and it makes her sad now that he should take such a bright part of his personality and twist it to something so... mundane, and sad.
"Why does love always feel like a battlefield?" she asks. She hopes he understands what she means. Who wants that kind of relationship, is what she's trying to say. He stops and thinks, his hold on her loosening. After a minute, he looks down at her, not ill or upset or frightened.
"Lily? You know what? I don't think love does feel like a battlefield. I think pride does." And then he kisses her because, well, he'd waited seven years to and she'd finally given him permission (of a sort), he tells her later.
Baby, we don't have to fight, she thinks. But if this is making up, then you'd better go and get your armor. The battle goes on...