Is there so much hate for the ones we love?; Lily/James, PG-13, violence and language
"You should get cleaned up."
She should, she knows she should. A bruise has bloomed along her left cheek, and cuts and scrapes flower her chin and neck. Her back is to him but she knows it is the dried blood that James is staring at. It's crackling along her skin, leaving stains in her dress, caking in her hair...
And most of it isn't her own.
Lily rarely humored the idea of murder by her own hand, even in wartime. Even when she's been fighting in a resistance group for months now. No, instead she was far more curious as to about how she may be murdered, or James, or their friends, or the rest of the Order.
But how quick death can be. How unexpected and accidental.
Mostly accidental.
Like a phantom-perhaps he is, now-she can still feel his hot breath in her ear, his whisper. You think you're a fucking freedom fighter, don't you, Mudblood?It was a brazen move on his part, for the sun had just set along Diagon Alley and a mother
( ... )
Five hours and four cigarettes later, the guilt sets in. Anger overwhelms her soon after, anger at the person she least expects.
Being an outspoken Muggle-born in times like these comes with a price, a price James never seems to understand quite as well as she would like.
"Or would you rather stare at the road all night?"
There's a slight edge in James' voice. He's tired, worried. Lily has a hard time caring.
She inclines her head, looking at him over her shoulder, saying nothing. Her lips part-red lipstick, smeared to hell-and takes another drag before turning back towards the window. The smoke blends into the London fog seamlessly.
She can feel his demeanor soften, hear his shoulders sag ever so slightly.
"It could have been any of us."
"Fuck off."
"What the hell is your-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...I meant, I'm trying to help. I
( ... )
Ugh, I fucking love your James and Lily, Ash. They're amazing and so vivid in just a handful of words. Lily's anger and slight disappointment in James is spot on, and I really appreciate how you always highlight the differences in politics and blood that divide them.
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"You should get cleaned up."
She should, she knows she should. A bruise has bloomed along her left cheek, and cuts and scrapes flower her chin and neck. Her back is to him but she knows it is the dried blood that James is staring at. It's crackling along her skin, leaving stains in her dress, caking in her hair...
And most of it isn't her own.
Lily rarely humored the idea of murder by her own hand, even in wartime. Even when she's been fighting in a resistance group for months now. No, instead she was far more curious as to about how she may be murdered, or James, or their friends, or the rest of the Order.
But how quick death can be. How unexpected and accidental.
Mostly accidental.
Like a phantom-perhaps he is, now-she can still feel his hot breath in her ear, his whisper. You think you're a fucking freedom fighter, don't you, Mudblood?It was a brazen move on his part, for the sun had just set along Diagon Alley and a mother ( ... )
Reply
Being an outspoken Muggle-born in times like these comes with a price, a price James never seems to understand quite as well as she would like.
"Or would you rather stare at the road all night?"
There's a slight edge in James' voice. He's tired, worried. Lily has a hard time caring.
She inclines her head, looking at him over her shoulder, saying nothing. Her lips part-red lipstick, smeared to hell-and takes another drag before turning back towards the window. The smoke blends into the London fog seamlessly.
She can feel his demeanor soften, hear his shoulders sag ever so slightly.
"It could have been any of us."
"Fuck off."
"What the hell is your-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...I meant, I'm trying to help. I ( ... )
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