Dont Mind Me

"Why don't you go and help Reid?" Hotch asks. 

"Help Reid what?" you ask. Your tone betrays you —jealousy, sure, that slight crisp to your words that must hurt on the way out, but worse is the weakness as your sentence ends. You're jealous, and it's upsetting you. "I don't think I want to help him with that." 

Derek swings into the sequestered space you've been using to operate and beams at you like he knows exactly what you're thinking. 

"Isn't it surprising how quiet he can be? Years of catching bad guys and he can't say no to a pretty woman," Derek says, giving you a knowing look.

You and Derek have a half-hearted rivalry in that he loves to flirt and you disapprove. Your soft spot extends solely to Spencer no matter how hard Derek tries to sway you, though as you and Spencer have gotten closer, you've softened.

Hotch thinks that Derek's teasing might erase any progress that's been made. 

"Morgan," he says reproachfully. 

Derek makes a who, me? face but quickly gives in. "Why don't you go save him?" he asks you. 

"He doesn't need saving. Spencer is a grown man who can make his own choices," you say quietly. 

Hotch bites his tongue. Thankfully, Derek speaks up, without any teasing. "Spencer's been expected to  know how to do things without any help since he was a kid. I really think he just doesn't know how to walk away." 

You look down at your hands. Hotch has been doing his job for a long time, and he can guess what you're thinking from a misaligned finger. You don't feel like you measure up to the woman at reception. You're insecure about Spencer's affection for you, because you can't understand why he likes you so much to begin with. Hotch has thought it about Haley, Derek of Savannah. It's a very human doubt.

"Spencer tends to stand straight," Hotch says, bringing the lip of his paper cup up. "Right now, he's leaning away." 

It's in as simple terms as he can put it without outright telling you that he really, truly believes that Spencer wouldn't bother with anyone who isn't you. That Spencer loves you in the young, all encompassing way, even though neither of you seems to have realised the depth of it yet. 

Confident, no air of the girl frowning down at her hands, you leave the nook to approach Spencer from behind. 

"Hi," Hotch hears you say, "you okay?" 

Spencer visibly relaxes. "Hey, I'm fine. Uh, Y/N, this is Anabelle. Annabelle, this is my partner, Y/N." 

"Partner?" Derek asks. 

It's news to Hotch. Perhaps news to you, if the way you take his hand is any hint. It's like you've never held it before, and Hotch knows you have, he's seen you linking pinkies under tables. 

You strangle his fingers with yours. Spencer doesn't move an inch.

"She was just telling me about the sightseeing you can do here. Have you ever seen the world's longest worm on a string?" he asks you. 

"Hi, Annabelle," you say, turning to Spencer with poorly masked whiplash. "We're gonna try narrowing the search radius." 

"Oh, right." Spencer lets go of your hand in favour of putting a hand behind your shoulder, saying his thank yous and goodbyes to Annabelle before guiding you back to the makeshift BAU base camp. "What took you so long?" 

"What took me so long?" you ask.

"I thought you liked me!" Spencer says, teasing, his voice pitching higher. "I didn't know how to tell her I've already read the pamphlet she was quoting. She seemed nice though, right?" 

"She seemed nice, Spence," you agree, a little wobbly still but a thousand times less sullen than before. "I– of course I like you, you know I like you. Right?" 

Hotch is proud of Spencer for how remarkably he responds. Spencer puts his body between you and Hotch and Derek where they're standing to offer you the privacy you prefer, dropping his voice to match your tentativeness. "Yeah, I know. I was kidding. I think they'd have to reassess my position on this team if I didn't know that." He grabs your arm, thumb pressing into the crook of your elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I thought maybe she was flirting with you." 

Spencer shrugs uneasily. "Maybe. It wouldn't make a difference to me. Do you know that?" 

Your head dips down. Hotch can't hear what you say, honestly, he doesn't want to know. Eavesdropping on the people he cares about in their unhappy moments isn't something he makes a habit of, but it's hard not to hear Spencer's response. "Don't say that," he murmurs. "That's not true… We'll talk about it later, okay?"

You clear your throat. "Yeah. Whatever you want."

Derek doesn't hide that he's been listening very well, pulling a crime scene document up to his eye line as you and Spencer pull apart. Your eyebrows furrow into a glare, but it's Spencer who says, "What?" 

Hotch bites back a smile. Derek grins and holds his hands up in surrender. 

"Just nice to see you taking care of my favourite girl," he smarms.

"Stop. You're extremely unprofessional," Spencer says, helping you into your seat unnecessarily.

"And you're not?" Derek asks, gesturing to his hand where it lingers behind your shoulders. 

You finally chip in, apparently back to your regular self. "Only one of us was responsible for a unit wide HR mandate about inappropriate behaviour." 

"You cannot keep bringing that up." 

"Why not?" 

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

So much has happened, I don’t know where to start.

The past month has been eventful, to say the least. As far as the Horcrux hunt goes, the boys managed to destroy two of them, almost one month ago, and Hermione thinks they’ll be going to Hogwarts by the end of January. 

Hogwarts has been shut down, unofficially; classes have stopped and the only ones staying there are the teachers and the students who have nowhere else to go. Professor Lupin said that most of the muggleborns have fled the country with their families.

I worry about the boys going back there, especially now, it isn’t safe with Snape as Headmaster and the Carrows there. They shouldn’t be going there alone.

The attacks against muggleborns and muggles, are more frequent now than ever. There is a station on the radio, spreading news and updating the supporters of the Order.

From what we’ve been hearing, things aren’t going as well as we’d like them to. Moody says that, even if we destroy the Horcruxes and kill Voldemort, there will still be so many Death Eaters and werewolves left and they will try to continue his work.

Not to mention, the politicians who secretly support him. It just feels like no matter what we do, they will still keep appearing. So how will it ever end? 

You feel panic creeping up on you again, and you stop for a moment, laying your head on top of your desk, hoping that if you shut your eyes, you will forget everything for just a few seconds. But you don’t. Instead you decide to focus on something else and you continue writing.

Andromeda Black has been visiting us, her husband is also fighting and her daughter moved in with us. And, in case it wasn't clear, she is Dracos aunt. I think she wants to fix their relationship, Narcissa and Andromeda were close growing up and from the way she talks about her sister I can tell how much she misses her.

Draco is the only person tying her to her sister- and her old family. I am sure she is proud of him. Proud of all of them.

We, have also grown closer to them, it is ridiculous to think how every time I’d stumble across Pansy Parkinson at school, I would feel anxious over the things she would say to me, but now- now we laugh together almost every night.

We all sit together and talk about school and our past, but only about the good stuff. Pansy makes fun of Theo and Draco, and how difficult they were back at school. How Draco would constantly talk about Harry when they sat in their common room. 

She remembers how one time, Blaise invented a drinking game, where every time that Draco would mention Harry, they would take a shot of whatever alcohol they had. She woke up with a pounding headache the next morning next to Theo who looked sick and Blaise who had gone to the bathroom at least three times.

And worst of all, Draco was sober and kept on blabbering about quidditch and how unfair it was that “undisciplined-Potter” won almost at every game.

Pansy told us the other day that even if things go terribly and we all die, at least she made girl-friends and didn’t end up alone with a whiny Draco and a moody Theo- her words not mine.

Theo and I have also grown close this past month. After the last time I wrote you, he visited me in my room and asked if he could sleep here. I let him in and turned the rug by my bed into a mat. Anyway, he slept there that night, and the next one and everynight after that.

He says he doesn’t get nightmares anymore, he feels safe now; and he can fall sleep easier. And to be honest, I have also been sleeping better, ever since that night. It isn’t only easier for me to fall asleep, but when I wake up I feel safe, and I can calm down faster than when I am on my own. 

I didn’t realize how much I craved to be near someone until Theo started sleeping here, how easier it gets when you have someone by your side. 

He usually knocks on my door a few minutes before midnight, we lay in our beds and talk until one of us falls asleep. 

He is kind and funny, and if it weren’t for the War I could fall we could be more than housemates-who-can’t-sleep-by-themselves and-need-eachother. But, we could die at any moment and living in a fantasy will not help me; and neither will getting my hopes up over nothing. 

We spent Christmas morning together, we woke up very early, and those who were not on a mission were still asleep. He made us spiked-hot chocolate, and we exchanged Christmas stories, until the others woke up.

That morning he told me about his childhood and how he would spend Christmas with the Malfoys, because his father didn’t want him around.

He asked me about my childhood and I told him about visits at the Burrow, and that one year when I spent Christmas at Hogwarts; raiding the kitchen with the students who were also there; and then listening to Hagrid’s stories at night.

Last week, I think the day after Boxing Day, I heard him talking in his sleep. Usually, he is the one to wake me up, whenever I have a nightmare, but that day the opposite happened. 

He was thrashing in his sleep and mumbling words that I can’t remember, he told me once that he dreams of Blaises death. I woke him up and

You raise your head and look outside your window as you recall that night. 

You were on your knees next to him, desperately trying to wake him up. Tears were dropping on his cheek and he kept grunting as if he was in physical pain; you shook his shoulder hard enough that he woke with a deep sigh.

The look on his face haunts you to this day, it is something you never want to see again. You lightly grabbed his face and whispered “It was only a dream.”, but he didn’t seem to believe you. He looked at you in silence, and grabbed your wrist, willing you to stay there with him and not move.

After a few minutes, he let you go and whispered “I am sorry.”, you could have just gone back to your bed, he was fine, he had snapped out of it. But you felt something tugging at your chest, and you just couldn’t let go.

You grabbed your blanket from your bed and draped it over you, as you laid down at his makeshift bed. He was nervous at first, at how different this was, from your usual sleeping situation, but after a few seconds he laid next to you and guided you to rest your head on his shoulder, while he kept you close with his arms.

You slept in each others arms that night, but when the morning came you woke up alone with only his scent there to hug you.

You never spoke about that night, and you still pretend it never happened…

In a few hours it will be new years day. 1999. I feel numb, it almost doesn’t feel real. Time is moving and the world is changing, every day, but I feel stuck. I am stuck inside this house and in this war that no-one asked for.

I keep losing people and I can’t see how that is ever going to change. I just hope, wish, that the War ends this year, and the new millennia doesn’t start with violence and death. Is it selfish to also wish that I make it out alive, without losing anyone else that I love?

You hear a knock on your door and quickly hide your diary. “Come in.”, you say and the door opens to reveal Theo in his usual sweatshirt, holding his pillow with an apologetic smile.

It is the same look he has every night, he told you once that he feels awful for burdening you like this, and as he tried to leave your room you stopped him “I want you here, it helps me too.”, you explained and he laid back down.

“Hi.” You say softly and move to your bed. 

You both lay down, you on your bed and he in his; but you are both on your sides, facing eachother.

“Theo?”, you softly ask and he replies with a “mm”

“Do you think it will end?”

“The war or the world?”, he asks yawning

“Both?”

“Yes.” , he replies softly

“Which one?”

“Both.”, he says as he rests his head on his head and looks up at you “I just don’t know, which of the two, we’ll get to experience.”

“What will you do, if you survive the war?”, you ask, wanting to change the subject before a full blown existential crisis hits you, minutes before the new year.

“It depends.”, he says seriously 

“On what?”

“In your scenario, will you also have survived the war?”

“I hope so.”, you say with a laugh

“Well then, there is this house that I used to visit, with my parents, when my mother was still alive”, he quickly tells you “It is in the countryside and the healers said that it would be good for her health, to live away from the city.” 

“I would go there, and you should come with me.” He says and earns a surprised look form you

“You can see the stars from there, very clearly, because it is so far away from the city lights”, he begins describing in a way that tells you that, this house and perhaps the memories he has from there are significant to him.

“And it is by the coast, so you can sit by the beach and forget about anything that troubles you. And it has a huge library, with so many books, you would love it there.”, he finishes, and you can tell by his movements and the way his eyes stare into yours, that he is getting tired as each minute passes. 

“Mmm sounds nice.”, you reply slowly

“What about you?”, he asks then

“Hm, if I survive this war and you are still alive I’ll make you take me to that house, because now I am curious to see it.”, you say smiling, earning a smile back from him “You don’t go there anymore?” 

“No, my father couldn’t visit it; after my mother passed, it reminded him of her.”

“Do you remember her? Your mom?”, you wonder

“No, not really. I remember she was kind and quiet. Maybe it is better she died, I don’t think she would’ve survived this war.”, he says now with a hint of nostalgia in his words

“You never talk about your parents.”, he points out, not in an accusing manner, but curious.

“Yeah, I- miss them, too much. I- it hurts talking about them.”, you say and it is true.

Whenever you think of your parents questions are shot at you; Are they okay? Are they safe? Will I ever see them again? It is easier to try and forget about them; for now, until it is safe for them to be with you again.

“It is almost midnight.”, Theo says, snapping you out of your thoughts

“It is almost new year.”, you exclaim “Come here, for the countdown.”, you ask craving the feel of someone near you.

He lays on your bed, facing you still, and instinctively he grabs your hands in his as he looks at you; opening himself to you, letting his emotions and thoughts show. Letting you see them.

“Will you really take me to your lake house if we make it out alive?”, you ask half-jokingly

“It’s a beach house. And yes.”, he replies seriously 

“Then I will stay alive for that.”, you promise him. You will stay alive because the world is worth saving, you will stay alive because he gives you hope and something to look forward.

You will stay alive for yourself and the people you love, but also for him. The sound of fireworks snap you out of your thoughts.

The New Year has officially come. And the person you are spending this moment with is Theodore Nott, how could anyone ever prepare you for this moment?

What could they say to convince you that someday, you would lay in your bed with Theodore Nott, exchanging happy new year wishes and laying bare your souls to eachother. Exposing every dark thought and worry, opening your hands to receive the other persons concerns and fears.

“Happy new year.”, he tells you

“Happy new year.”, you wish back and look at his face more clearly now. You notice his eyes and how easily you can lose yourself in them, and you stare at his lips as if they are the medicine to cure your symptoms. Bring you back to life.

“Theo.”, you say; barely whispering 

“Yes.”, he replies in the same tone, now looking at you like he can read your thoughts. His eyes scan your face, expectantly, wanting. As if he is starved.

His look is enough for you to lean in and whisper to him, when your lips are a breath away “For good luck. For the New Year”

And with that you close the gap between you two. He slowly closes his eyes and grabs the back of your head carefully with his free hand, pulling you closer to him. You place your hand on his shoulder, resting your body on him.

The way his lips kiss yours feels like a drug. This alone, is worth fighting for. To be able to kiss him, like this. And it is solely because when you kiss eachother, it feels as if a weight is lifted off your chest, as if his hands help you carry the stone to top of the mountain.

Normally, you would blame yourself for being weak; you should be able to handle things by yourself, you shouldn’t need others to survive, that is what your mind would normally tell you, and yes normally you would agree. But there is nothing normal about this life you are currently living.

So you keep kissing him and when his mouth travels south to your neck, causing you to let out a small sigh you don’t stop him.

“For good luck.” he repeats as he takes off your shirt and kisses your skin.

“For good luck.” you repeat as you pepper kisses along his jaw and neck, while he tugs at your hips to remove the rest of your clothing.

And, later when you lay together with your clothes discarded on the floor, with his arms around you; holding you impossibly close to him and his breath fanning rhythmically in your ear, tickling you softly, you try to convince yourself that it was in fact just for good luck.

I knew better than to alert this person of the fact I had woken up, so I stayed perfectly still, planning on how I could possibly fight this person off, make it to my gun sitting across our bedroom, and wake up my husband, all without disturbing our sleeping children. I knew I had to move soon, so as my comforter was being slid up my legs, allowing the freezing air to creep across my skin, I peeked one eye open as subtly as I could.

Immediately, a warm wave of relief washed across me, coursing through my veins as I could clearly see Spencer above me, clad in his tight sleep shirt- the floppy mop on top of his head blowing slightly in the breeze. From my squinted eyes, I could see him kneeling at my feet, holding something in one of his hands. I couldn’t be sure of what he was trying to do, but I decided to keep up my “sleeping” act. Still, I’d be sure to give him a mouth full for scaring the absolute shit out of me tomorrow morning.

I closed my eyes, trying not to wriggle in my anticipation. Still, I almost flinched when I felt his cold, slender fingers slide something over my foot.

Oh.

The feeling of the overly fluffy socks he had bought for me months ago slid over my foot, immediately warming me up. I took a second to picture the socks- decorated with tiny purple monster faces, and a tiny smile snuck onto my lips. I could still remember him telling- no, scolding me to wear them at night. He had apparently been worried about my blood circulation, when in all reality I just had cold feet. Everyone gets cold feet at night! But of course, Spencer wouldn’t take that as an answer, sending him into a full lecture about the dangers of Raynounds, and how I had to take this seriously.

I was so lost in the little memory, I hadn’t realized he had finished his careful mission of keeping my feet warm. With my eyes still closed, I felt him slide back into bed, making sure I was fully covered by our blanket with him. I could have easily guessed what he would do next, so it was no surprise when his hands slowly reached over to my waist, bringing me tight into his chest- my face pressed so closely against him it was a bit hard to breathe. I didn’t move, of course. I enjoyed breathing him in far too much for that.

As I was still fighting to keep the huge grin off my face, I heard him clear his throat from above me.

“I know you’re awake,” He croaked, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “You should really keep your feet warm, you know.”

I quietly mumbled an agreement into his chest before whispering, “I love you.”

He held onto me impossibly tighter, making me squirm. I swear, he forgets how strong he actually is sometimes.

he's your absolute best friend in the world, you probably grew up together or got very close over a period of years, you probably practiced kissing on each other, you spend more time sleeping together than alone, etc etc etc. but lately it's been really hot out, so you've neglected both cuddling and clothes. You're sleeping in a shitty, skimpy bra, and some old granny panties, and james is conked out in his bed, probably in boxers or briefs. you're asleep, but the mattress moves and it wakes you. you instantly recognize the familiar feeling of james getting into bed with you, and you forget that it's too hot to cuddle when you roll over to let him in.

you probably greet him with a sleepy, hi, jamie, that he returns with a gruff, raspy, 'hi, love'. it takes all of his brainpower just to say those words, and he's falling beside you like a tree chopped in the forest. instantly he's snoozing again, cheek smushed against your pillow as he wrestles you into his grip like normal.

except, it isn't normal.

because he's naked, and oh my god you've seen him naked before, and he's seen you, no biggie! you've skinny dipped before, you've changed after a shower, it happens, best friends see everything. but you've never touched him while he was naked before, and his fucking cock is literally laying on the bed right next to you?? hello??

you freeze up but you nudge his arm like jamie,, love

'hm?'

'your cock is out'

'what?'

'your- james, you're naked, your- your cock is out.'

'oh,' he mumbles, like you've told him the weather forecast for the next day, 'yeah.'

'yeah? james, you- get your cock out of my bed!'

'wh- it's bloody attached to me!' he whines, smothering his face in the pillow to get away from your nagging, 's'fine, darling, what, you think it's gonna bite you? jus' go t'sleep, i'm tired.'

You…didn’t want to be an Auror. Or a Healer. Or even a Magizoologist, which shocked James, considering how much you love magical creatures. No, you did something completely different and chose to open a bakery. You even subtly named it after James.

Sweetheart’s Confectionery was only open for five hours a day, from seven o’clock in the morning to noon. But you were always sold out by then anyway, so why stay open later? You loved meeting up with James for lunch every day before eventually going your separate ways, him going back to work and you heading home.

Remus never saw himself as a baker. But, he has to admit it was hard for him to find a job that could accommodate his…need to have a few days off every month. When he sheepishly asked you if you needed an extra set of hands you all but tackled him in excitement. You had been wanting him to work with you from the start, you just didn’t know how to bring it up.

Only three years after graduating, and one year after getting married you find yourself pregnant. While it wasn’t necessarily planned, you and James are overjoyed at the fact that your family is about to include another person. You give birth to a beautiful baby boy nine months later, with James’ wild brown locks and your captivating Y/E/C. You call him Harry. Harry James Potter and you love him with your whole heart.

When Harry is three years old, you find yourself pregnant again; this time with a baby girl. This one is born with Y/H/C hair, just like yours and James’ beautiful hazel eyes. You affectionately end up naming her Honey.

You and James agree that you’re good with two kids. But then you get pregnant a third time, finding out a few weeks after Honey’s second birthday. You and James can only laugh as you say that maybe three kids aren’t too bad either. So imagine your surprise when the doctor tells you that you’re not having one child, but two. Twins. Atwell Sirius and Remus Julian.

September 1, 1991 you all accompany Harry to Platform 9 3/4, excited to send him off to Hogwarts for the very first time.

“Come here. Gimme a kiss,” you ask, pressing a kiss onto Harry’s cheek. “Be good.”

“Or don’t.” James adds, childishly sticking his tongue out at you when you look at him.

Harry laughs at the conversation before sighing nervously. James crouches down to his level, frowning in concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugs. “Guess I’m just scared.”

“What’s there to be afraid of?” James asks with a smile. “It’ll be fun. Remember all the stories we told you?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “But still. What if I don’t make any friends? What if I mess up a spell and everyone laughs at me?”

“You’re bound to mess up a spell, Harry.” James tells him with a laugh. “Which is understandable. It’s your first time. But I highly doubt everyone will laugh at you. There’ll be at least one person that’s in your corner.”

“But how do you know?” Harry insists.

James gazes at you with a smile, watching adoringly as you tie little Julian’s shoelaces.

“Because it happened to me.” James admits. “Third year. No matter how many times I tried, I just couldn’t get it right.”

“And everyone laughed at you?” Harry whispers.

“Not everyone.” James shakes his head. “One person didn’t.”

“And what happened?” Harry asks, looking at his father with inquisitive eyes.

“I ended up marrying her.” James chuckles.

Harry smiles at the story, but James can tell that he’s still anxious.

“Tell you what. How about I lend you my good luck charm?” James asks.

“You have a good luck charm?” Harry asks before looking at him skeptically. “Does it work?”

“Of course it works!” James insists with a nod. “I’ve had it since I was seventeen. The moment I received this, my life changed for the better. Do you want to borrow it?”

Harry thinks it over for a moment before eventually nodding his head. James undoes the clasp of his necklace and puts it on Harry, tucking it under his shirt to keep is safe.

“Take care of that for me, yeah?” James asks. “It’s the most important thing I own. Priceless. Irreplaceable.”

Harry nods his head before throwing his arms around James’ neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Thanks dad.”

“You’ll miss your train.” James chuckles, hugging him back. “Go on. Before mum starts crying again.”

Harry pulls back with a laugh, nodding his head before running onto the train. He manages to find an empty compartment and takes a seat, waving to you from the window as the train pulls away.

After he’s gotten settled, curiosity gets the better of him, and Harry pulls the necklace out. He inspects it curiously, flinching in surprise when it pops open. It’s not just any old necklace, it’s a locket!

Harry opens it up and smiles at what he sees inside. It’s a picture of you and James. Considering how young you look, Harry assumes it’s from when you first started dating.

In the picture, James has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, with you tucked into his side. You look up at James with a smile then shyly look away immediately after. Only a second later, James tilts his head down, gazing at you with a soft smile before he too, looks away.

after the last check you looked okay, you headed to the hall of your flat. you put on a beige coat and you didn't forget your headphones.

one of your favourite songs started playing. the one he never liked, the one he never understood, the one he would skip to some of his unknown indie bands when you two were in his car. thousands of memories came to flood your mind but you didn't turn off the song, no, you turned off the lock, sighed and headed outside.

i should've taken a nice long walk to calm down my nerves, you thought as the bus comes to a stop close to the café you and james were meeting in. you were too early.

you soon were standing in front of the café, nerves were covering every inch of your body and you felt like you were going to vomit any second.

you checked the time again. it was 2:35p.m.

what will james think of me if he finds out i am almost 30 minutes early to this date?

you were sure he wasn't going to be there yet. you knew james from work and he was always late, even to important events.

you walked into the café, welcoming the warmth after standing in a colder november weather. you took off your headphones and looked around, searching for an empty table.

and that's when your eyes landed on him. he noticed you too. he stood up and waved at you with a smile. james was wearing a red jumper and black trousers. you realized that his black hair were much less messy than when you see him at work. he tried to style it for this date. for you. the thought made butterflies fly in your belly.

when you reached his table, he pulled out the chair, took off your coat and helped you get comfortable.

wow, this is nice. he had never done this.

"you're early," you commented, trying to hide your smile and blush.

"well, i'm not going to screw a date up before it even begins, am i? and, by the way, so are you."

he had never come on time on our dates.

"you look very beautiful, by the way," james said, making blood rush into your cheeks at the speed of light. "red suits you very well."

"you don't look bad yourself," you complimented him back. "although, i must admit i like you better with your hair all messy."

he chuckled. what a wonderful sound.

"i thought girls don't like it."

"but do you?"

he shrugged. "yeah."

"then you should style it how you want," you advised.

he stared you for a second and then said, "you're very wise."

you smiled and look at your lap.

he always thought i was a dumb fool.

the waitress came and you ordered your coffees. james likes his sweet and you do too. he never did, though. he liked his coffee black just like his soul.

you two talked for hours. about your childhood, adulthood, family, almost everything. well, mainly james talked. you preferred to listen and add something then and there.

but then james suddenly stopped talking and shook his head.

"i'm sorry," he apologised. "i get very excited when someone is interested in me. i could talk for hours without stopping. i sincerely apologise. now, you tell me something about yourself."

"uh," you said. he always talked about himself and never cared what you got to say. you weren't used to it. "i haven't— i haven't got much to say."

"oh, come on, you don't need to be shy with me, love," he winked at you and slightly giggled. and then, you talked so much you were afraid you were going to talk his ears off but that fear quickly vanished when he kept asking questions about you. he wanted to know you. he wanted to know what you like and what you don't. you've never felt so interesting before. you couldn't when he never let you say anything, always pushing you down with his words and actions.

at one point, james threw his head back and laughed, gaining attention of the people around you two.

"you're hilarious, you know that?" he was still laughing, like a little kid.

you didn't. it was strange james thought that because he never did.

you've spent months getting over him though you haven't gone on a date cause you were worried the love would quickly come to an end.

but on a wednesday, in a café, you watched it begin again.

begin again begin again begin again begin again begin

next week, on a second date, you and james ended up in your flat. he immediately commented how cozy it is as you showed him around.

when you two came into your room, james perked up at the amount of vinyls in the corner of your bedroom.

he came a little closer and you watched him anxiously, hoping he will like your music taste.

"wow!" he breathed out. "i had never met a girl who has as many james taylor records as me!"

you chuckled, relieved. "well, i do."

"do you mind putting it on?" he asked, still admiring them.

"no, not at all," you answered. "go ahead."

after a minute or so, he pulled out fire and rain by taylor. he started slowly dancing and handed you his hand. you took it without hesitation.

you two danced throughout the whole song, complimemting each other's moves as you did so. at the end, your head was on his chest and his arms around your middle. you felt so comfortable with him and even after the song started again, you and james just stood there in the middle of the room, slightly swinging.

you knew that when you hear this song from now on, you wouldn't think of him rolling his eyes at your music taste. you wouldn't hear his voice in the back of your mind, complaining about everything. you would think of you and james dancing in your bedroom as you gave chance to love again.

when it was getting late and you and james had finished the film you watched (it was grinch, you both were in a mood for christmas film). you walked him outside to his car.

"you will have to tell me more about the films your family watches every christmas next time," you said.

james grinned at you. "next time, huh?"

"we-well, yeah. . . if you want."

"i very much want a next time, yes."

"okay, good."

you two stood there for a minute awkward silence, just looking at each other. you watched him take a deep breath.

"i, um, can i kiss you?"

you didn't wait a second to think it through. you nodded eagerly and james smiled, finding it adorable.

he took your face in his palms and leaned in, giving your lips a sweet kiss and you felt your knees getting weak. when he pulled away, you both smiled at each other.

"good night, james," you whispered.

"good night, y/n," he replied. he got into his car and opened his window to say, "have sweet dreams. about me." he winked at you, making you blush, before driving away.

you stood on the street, your fingers on your lips, still feeling james there. you liked him very much and at that moment, there was no one else in the world. only you and him, problems and fears far away.

it was early to wonder if this could work but you wished badly it would.

you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love

it didn't take james more than a second to convince you to go on a date with him as you agreed as soon as he asked you.

you two spend an entire afternoon and evening together and it was getting close to midnight but none of you seemed to want this day to end.

talking to james was so easy. you completed each other. it felt like you two knew each other forever. you loved and hated feeling excited about seeing him again when the date you were on didn't even end yet.

not to mention the fact how beautiful he was. with his dark hair falling down his face over his eyes that gave you a look which made you blush and you only thanked that it was dark so he couldn't tease you.

"are you tired?" he asked when he stopped on the traffic lights. you glanced at the digital clock in his car. it was 11:51pm but you were nowhere near tired.

"no, not at all?" you answered. "you?"

he shook his head. "me neither. you want to grab a coffee?"

you looked at him as if he was crazy and chuckled. "coffee at midnight?"

he nodded. "why not?"

"okay. yeah, why not?"

james quickly found a late-night café nearby and got you two coffees. then, you enjoyed them underneath the night sky. the street lights reflected the chain on your neck.

"look up," he said and when you did, you could feel your shoulders brush. "that's ursa major constellation," he was pointing at the constellation that represented a great bear. "it was one of the forty-eight constellations listed by the second century ad astronomer ptolemy." his finger then pointed to another one. "and that's leo."

"are you interested in stars?" you question and he looked at you, staying quiet for a bit before chuckling and shaking his head.

"not much," he admitted. "but remus told me you do so i just tried to remember everything sirius told me about stars to impress you."

"well," you smiled up at him. "it did impress me."

when you got into his car and he drove you home, comfortable silence prevailed between you two. you could hear it, though.

you were going to fall in love.

you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love

about a month and a half later, you spent the night at james's for the first time. i mean, you spend the night at his place already but this time it was different. you two made love.

you wanted to take things slowly at first but something clicked inside you the night before. you were so attracted to him. not only because of his appearance but because of his personality too. he was so lovely and, god, so bloody beautiful.

the morning after, you woke up in an empty bed. you looked around the room, eyebrows furrowed. you could smell something burnt. after you rubbed your eyes and stretched, you reached for a piece of clothing thrown on the floor and the memories of the night before came into your mind, making you bite your lip and blush. you put on james's white shirt and your underwear before making your way to the kitchen.

you found james sitting on one of the chairs by he table with his head in his hands.

worry was written all over your face as you walked over to him and squeezing his shoulder. "what's going on,?"

he looked up at you with puppy eyes and pointed at the kitchen counter. "wanted to make you toasts for breakfast and i burnt them."

"oh," you tried to stop yourself from laughing. he was so adorable. "well, that's okay, i can make them."

he nodded and as you wanted to go and make the toasts, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and brought you closer. you smiled and ran your hand through his hair, making it even messier as if that was even possible. flashbacks from last night appeared in front of your eyes. how you pulled at his hair when he went down on you and the whimpers he let out because of that.

you made enough toasts for both of you and you ate them in silence, just enjoying each other's presence. james held your hand and played with the ring on your finger.

after breakfast and a short make out session, you, unfortunately, had to get ready for work. james watched you getting undressed with a grin on his face that you rolled your eyes at with a smile.

"keep it," he said when you wanted to give him back his shirt.

"huh?"

"keep it. it looks so much better on you," he spoke before giving your cheek a kiss.

"you sure?"

"yeah, of course."

"okay," you breathed out and paused. "well, i have to go. . ."

"okay," james nodded. "i'll call you later, yeah?"

"yeah," you agreed. and with a last peck on his lips, you unwillingly left to work.

you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love

three months into the relationship and you were happier than ever. james might seem a bit boyish but in reality he is the most mature boyfriend you've ever had. when you two fought, he wouldn't be rude to you, he wouldn't ignore you. instead of that, he would sit you down and you both would talk about how you felt.

but of course, you two wouldn't fight often. if there was anything bothering you, you learnt that it's best to talk about it rather than let it bubble inside of you and then explode, causing a fight.

there was a moment after a certain argument that you will hold close to your heart forever.

you two were lying in bed at james's place, not talking much for the entire evening. you had to admit it was your fault. you were a bit to stubborn to talk things through.

it could be a bit past midnight, about an hour since your and james's heads hit the pillows, when you felt his arm wrapping around your waist. you didn't pull away or anything like that. it was hours since you felt the warmth of his body.

you felt james's lips on the back of your head. you turned around to face him and touched his face. he leaned into your hand.

you heard him take a deep breath and then he said, "you're my best friend."

and you knew what it was.

"Do you mind?" your words are muffled against a pillow, eyes still closed. "I'm tryna sleep."

"Indeed I do," James huffs at your ear to tingle it near the bed on his knees.

You groan and press your face deeper into the pillow. 

"C'mon, lazy ass," he attempts to drag your blanket, but you're clinging to it like your life depends on it. "Get up, I'm bored."

You are not strange to the routine. He wakes up at the crack of dawn and cannot physically go back to sleep. So, he decides to try and get you up. Sometimes you chase him off, and other times he chases your sleep off.

"What time is it?"

"Nine in the morning," he kisses your ear, and you squirm away once more. 

You have at least three more hours to go. That is, only if he lets you.

"Go and play with your balls or something, James," you murmur and decide to jump into the sweet embrace of sleep.

He scrunches up his face, staring at your frame with a funny look.

"You realize how that sounds, right?"

You don't. You don't even remember what you said. You decide not to reply, forcing yourself to hum.

James rolls his eyes and gets up to his feet. His eyes scan the bed, your position, and how you've become one with the blanket.

After a few seconds of intense calculations, he jumps to bed, making sure to emerge a quake strong enough to make you yelp.

"James!" you squeal, fully awake now.

"Rise and shine, baby!" 

You scowl at him, and he grins in turn. Perfect teeth between red, soft lips shining like the sun in your morning can not let you frown much more.

"When did you wake up this time?"

He lies back, one arm behind his head, the other lying freely on the bed close to your hair. 

"Hour and a half ago," he starts to stroke your hair, and you know it will only make you drowsy. "Lads didn't wanna play Quidditch any more."

"Lark," you say, and drag your torso close to him to rest your head on his bicep. You grab his wrist and bring it to your hair. 

He catches on quick, roaming his finger between your curls. The sensation is nice, peaceful even. Exactly what one needs before starting the day.

"This is nice," you murmur, closing your eyes with a faint smile as the drowsiness sets in.

"For you. I can't feel my arm," he says and, with a quick movement, curls his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

You giggle at the sudden action, letting James drown your face in his chest. His arms are locked behind your back, squeezing you as hard as he can.

"James," you laugh, and the sound comes muffled. "Can't breathe."

He kisses your forehead before finally loosening his hold.

"Now, this is very nice," he smiles at you.

The next moment will pass without you knowing it because you will doze off at his fingers between your hair. And he won't wake you up this time, watching your peaceful visage, patiently waiting for you to have your sleep.

Two hours later, you will yawn awake and see him asleep above you.

You'll prop yourself up by the elbows and place firm kisses on his face. He will wake up when you kiss his nose, and you'll drag him out of bed.

"C'mon, lazy ass."

⁠✿

You are infuriatingly a butterfingers today. You have managed to spill drink on your paper, trip two times on James's foot, and break a few things.

And the day is far from over.

"Stop laughing," you shoot James a stern look, though the twitch in the corner of your lips gives your true emotions away. 

There's a gap between two of your bodies and the ruins of someone's favourite water glass.

"It's the third glass today," he says in laughs with a higher pitch than you expected. "How can I not laugh?"

In your defence, the first glass was because you weren't fully awake. Others may be entirely your fault.

"It's not my fault!" you whine which only earns you a big chortle from your boyfriend.

"I know, you just need to," he holds up his hand and imitates a grip with his fingers. "You know, do this."

"I'm gonna do that to your throat."

He nods, stilling his expressions. However, not long after the eye contact with you, he bursts out laughing again.

You roll your eyes at him, even though you secretly love when the melody reaches your ears.

"Graceful as a bull in a China shop," he murmurs to himself, grinning as he casts a spell to clean up the mess. 

"Did you just call me a bull?" you gasp, feigning shock and anger.

"No, I called you graceful," he shakes his head and walks up to you. "Don't get it twisted."

James dangles his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a forehead kiss. "You can break all the glasses you want."

"I'm not doing it on purpose," you smack his stomach lightly, even though your rigid body melts under his touch.

"Well, I'm saying that if you ever do it on purpose," he holds your hand and starts walking. "I'd be okay with it."

"How nice."

He hums, and you two start ambling towards the yard. Just when you're about to step on the last tread of the stairs, you almost topple over. Fortunately for you, James catches you by the waist. You can swear you almost heard him cackle.

"Not a word–"

"Did you wake up with two left feet today?"

You groan, and he titters as he checks you to see that you didn't sprain an ankle.

"Do you think someone hexed me or something?" you ask, genuinely wondering the reason behind this clumsiness. 

He clicks his tongue. "Already checked."

You grumble under your nose as he smiles at your grumpy and irritated face. 

"It's alright, love, I'll teach you how to walk."

"I know how to–"

"First, put your right leg forward and lean in with your body–"

You want to complain again, but much to your surprise, a chuckle escapes from your throat.

"I hate you," you push him away.

"No, you don't," he tugs at your arm, yanking you back to his side. "You literally kiss me at every chance you get."

"Noted. Won't happen again."

James arches a brow, and you shrug. In one swift moment, he attempts to put a short kiss on your lips, but you take a big step back. 

It looks like your turn to smirk.

You blow him a kiss before turning around and sprinting to the lake in the yard. Your smile widens when you hear his complaining tone.

"Hey, not fair!"

⁠✿

You absolutely hate James's healthy and sporty physique. 

Alright, maybe not hate, but you definitely do not enjoy it when you are engaging in something physically challenging, and he doesn't even break a sweat while you are panting, melting, and turning into the colour of a tomato.

It's the middle of summer, and for some reason that you can't comprehend right now, you agreed with your boyfriend to go out in that outrageous heat. As if to make it worse, it's almost midday, the sun hitting your head at a specific angle to make sure you get sunburned.

A droplet of sweat tingles the skin from your temple to your jaw, and you halt your steps to take a breather. You've been climbing that heel for…fifteen minutes.

It sure feels like an hour.

“I’m gonna…fucking…kill you,” you manage to voice between gasps, and James nods several times. 

“Lack of oxygen is making you delirious,” he states, rubbing your back. “Breathe, love.”

You observe his statue as you calm your breath, watching how his composure is intact. His face is a bit red, but you know it’s from the sun and not because his whole body is on fire. His hair is messy, too, but that’s just the usual. 

“You are not even sweating?!”

“I am,” he smirks, “just not as bad as you are.” 

You groan, and he kisses your temple. Even though it sends butterflies down your tummy, you sure wouldn’t kiss his temple when he’s drowning in sweat. 

“Ew, James,” you grimace at the gesture. 

“Ew yourself,” he furrows his brows before smiling as you mimic gagging. “We have only five minutes’ walk left.”

“That’s not a walk,” you raise your hand to shield your eyes from the sun. “That’s an uphill battle.”

He scoffs. “And my lady is not the one to run from a battle, right?”

“No, your lady is definitely going to run from this battle,” you turn to him with a scrunched-up face. 

“Well, good for me that my lady can not run for so long,” James steps forward, and you feel his arm descend behind your back. “She gets tired.”

You feel another arm behind your knees as he lowers his body. Before you can ask him what he is doing, your feet are already up in the air, and you are clutching his shoulders tightly. 

“Your arms will hurt,” you squeak when he moves you around to find a comfortable position for his arms. He grins while slowly starting the uphill battle. 

“Not if you make sure to kiss me every minute.”

After a painful fifteen minutes, you finally let out a giggle and lean in to kiss him. When you do, the salty taste of your sweat is still present on his lips. 

“Ew, James!” you toss your head back as he laughs.  The five minutes’ walk stretches out to ten minutes’ walk, and you get on your feet midway. However, while you are in his arms, you make sure to adore how the sunlight hits his black curls and how his dark eyes melt into honey, glistening with each glance at you.

⁠✿

fun fact, i literally lived the second part, like i broke three glasses in a day and tripped over my sister's foot several times

anyways, thank you for reading and let me know what you think <3

Your mutually-beneficial-arrangement, which has blossomed since then, is the reason you're now standing in front of the Gryffindor changing room. The boys' changing room.

You and James have this new tradition where, after he wins an important game, you'll meet him in the changing room after his teammates had left and, well, you were his reward.

Slowly, you run a hand through your hair, fixing the barrette you have pinned on one side, and then smooth your hand down your uniform. Hesitantly, you turn the handle.

Once you walk in, it takes approximately less than three seconds for you to realize you made a terrible mistake.

Inside you're met with loud, bustling, chatter as Gryffindor boys you only know by name and Quidditch positions pack their equipment and uniforms into their bags. You freeze.

One of the boys turns around, "What the bloody fuck is a girl doing in here?" He exclaims, sounding truly horrified.

Immediately, you spin around to leave but without warning another boy seemingly materializes next to you and slams his hand into the door. You almost bump into it as it shuts directly in front of you. You swallow nervously as you have no choice but to turn around.

"Y/n?" You hear your name and an immediate sense of relief rushes over you. You watch James walk in. His hair is still damp from a shower and a towel is thrown over his shoulder.

His look of confusion quickly turns into realization when he scans you and sees the small flower in your hand. Usually, when he wins you gift him a daisy and he likes to keep them all in the pocket of his Captain's uniform as good luck charms.

James's eyes then jump to his teammate and when he sees how close his arm is to your head and how close he is to you in general, he frowns, "Hey O'Conner, back it up, buddy." He says, hiding his annoyance behind a joke as he quickly makes his way to you.

O'Conner huffs but listens to James anyway. He sends you a look and then laughs to himself, "Is this your girlfriend, Potter. Seems like she has a little present for you." O'Conner looks at the daisy in your hand and you quickly hide it behind your back, cheeks burning hot.

When James reaches you, he gently holds your shoulder and turns you around. His mouth is pressed near your ear as he whispers, "Come on," and leads you out the door.

Even when James shuts the door behind you, you can still hear mocking and whistles from inside the changing room and you've never been more embarrassed in your life. You're sure James can sense how anxious you've become because he runs his thumb over your knuckles, "It's okay, love. You're just a little early. You can come back in thirty minutes and it will just be just us, like it usually is."

You stare at him and, after a moment, shake your head. You don't have to speak or explain yourself for James to understand as he kisses your forehead, "Ok, I'll see you at Honeydukes in a bit then? Pads and Moony said they invited you already?"

"Yeah." Is all you say.

James gently slides his hand down your cheeks and uses his thumb and index finger to tilt your chin up, "Gimme a smile, love?" He asks seriously.

You look into his eyes, rolling yours, but smile at him anyways. You hear him mumble something and then he swiftly plucks the daisy from your hand and, because he doesn't have any available pockets, puts it behind his ear.

When James sends you his signature smirk, you think you're melting.

"Bye Jamie," You whisper as he turns around to walk into the changing room again. The door opens and you can hear the laughter inside but they don't bother you anymore when you see a glimpse of James giving one of his teammates the middle finger as the daisy stays in his hair.

* * *

Honeydukes is known to be busy after Quidditch matches and it's especially busy when Gryffindor wins. It's a tradition that originated from James, Sirius, and Remus, and now almost everyone just comes along until it's turned into a full party.

James has his arm draped over the booth behind you as he leans against the corner. He laughs as Sirius chugs Butterbeer as quickly as possible. Your nose scrunches in disgust and Remus quickly snatches what was his drink away from Sirius's hands, "You're a pig." Remus reprimands gently and rolls his eyes.

Sirius just winks, licks his lips, and leans in to wipe the side of his mouth on the collar of Remus's sweater, to which the latter smacks him over the head and earns an amused, still muffled, laugh.

You smile. You're lost in thoughts when you suddenly feel James's fingers draw circles and various shapes on your back. It's something he does almost routinely. You turn to him, but he doesn't look back at you as his fingers find your hair and play with the strands. You admire how his hazel eyes dart from Remus to Sirius depending on who's talking. You like the way his messy black hair, now dry, is curling around his forehead and you have to resist pushing up his round glasses, which sit a little low on his nose.

You have completely lost track of their conversation and when you're pulled down to earth by a shout from another drunk student, you avert your gaze from James and instead focus on your nearly finished Butterbeer. A blush of embarrassment heats your cheeks and you slide out of the booth.

"Everything ok?" Sirius asks and the boys look at you.

You smile and lift your glass, "Yeah, I just want another round."

"Alright, love." James says, turning his head a little. You can see the daisy still hiding in his curls and your chest tightens.

You really wish you'd known in fourth year how badly you'd fall for James Potter, because maybe then you could have prevented the pain of how shitty it feels to only admire him from afar.

Pushing past a bunch of students, you go to lean against the bar as you wait your turn to order. You hadn't heard someone come up to you until you feel someone's shoulder close to yours. Because of the intimacy, you think it's one of your friends, "Hey–" You start and look up, only to jump a little as O'Conner grins down at you.

Quintin O'Conner is a rather tall, handsome boy with short, thin, auburn hair. His vibrant green eyes shine as he tips his full glass of beer with an obnoxious smirk, "Hey, stalker."

You frown at the nickname, "Can I help you?" You ask.

"Sure." O'Conner licks his lips, "Potter didn't say you were his girlfriend, so I'm wondering if you're free tomorrow night? If I'm honest, I'd love one of your good luck daisies too." His hand slides over the counter and hesitates at your hand. You shift.

James told his teammates about your daisies? You blush, "Oh um, no, those are for James." You try to explain without sounding creepy and possessive. O'Conner fakes a pout and this time his hand reaches yours and his thumb caresses along your palm.

"Yeah, but like, he's not your boyfriend is he?"

"He's not but,"

"Listen, it's pretty obvious whatever activities you and Potter do in private has caused you to fall in love with him but, clearly, he just doesn't feel the same," O'Conner now grips your hand and leans in way too close, "Y/n, if you were mine I would never take you for granted." He looks you over, his eyes more sinister than his words.

You feel like someone has just choked you. Has James been going around telling people you've been hooking up? You thought you'd agreed you wouldn't even tell Sirius and Remus? You stare at O'Conner, "How do you know that?" You stutter.

"Please," O'Conner rolls his eyes, "It's quite obvious you know? You didn't just walk into the boys changing rooms looking for Potter to have a chat, did you? Plus, anyway, Potter told us the moment you left."

You shake my head automatically as his hand grips yours and somehow leans in even closer. "What's he doing to you that I can't do?" O'Conner's lips are close to your ear now and a shiver runs down your spine. Quickly, you pull your hand away and swoop under and around him.

"Sorry, I have to go." You mumble and start to make your way back to the booth, head spinning.

"Slut," You hear O’Conner shout over the chatter and you wince, closing your eyes.

When you find your way back to Sirius, Remus, and James empty handed, they look at you confused, "What's wrong, love?" James asks, sitting up in his seat. His eyes look you over and you can tell just by his eyebrow scrunch he knows you're upset.

Sirius and Remus look equally concerned and they look towards the bar, only by now O'Conner has probably gone to bother another unsuspecting girl.

When you don't move, James is up on his feet and is making his way towards you. He holds out his arms and tries to wrap them around your shoulders comfortingly but you push your arms outwards and up so he can't touch you. You shake your head. Now, the boys look even more concerned, "Seriously, what happened, Y/n?" James whispers and crosses his arms.

You look at him and the daisy in his hair just pisses you off now, "Did you tell them?" You ask, the butterbeer in your system creating a light buzz, making your head feels fuzzy, "James, did you tell them?"

"What?" James's eyes round.

"You heard me." You hiss. Sirius and Remus look at each other confused.

"Please, just tell me what happened." James pleads in another whisper as he starts to walk towards you again, only this time you move away from him.

"Oi, Potter, next time keep your bitch on a tighter leash. She was all over me a few moments ago." You suddenly hear O'Conner taunt and your head snaps towards the sound. O'Conner's arm is swung around another girl's shoulder as he grins at you.

"What the fuck did you just say, man?" Sirius exclaims as Remus instantly holds his arm back.

You glance at James and you can see his mind racing. He's staring at O'Conner but he hasn't reacted or even moved in any way. Instead, he looks at you, and his eyes soften, "Y/n," He starts but you don't wait for an explanation and just turn around.

You've barely gone out the door when James is behind you again, "Wait, please. Talk to me." He says and his hand skims your arm. Reluctantly, you pause and let out a sigh,

"I'm so fucking mad at you, James." You exclaim.

"Okay," James's voice is calm and he guides you to turn around and look at him, "Why is that, love?" He's eerily calm, especially since he has a few drinks in him, and you're extremely suspicious.

"Why are you so calm?" You ask lightly, only a little hurt he didn't stand up for you in Honeydukes.

James tilts his head, "After what O'Conner said? Sweetheart, I'm fucking furious but that wanker isn't who I care about right now." He takes a breath, "I want to know what happened to make you so mad at me."

You glare at him, "We promised we wouldn't tell anyone about us."

James looks flustered, "Yeah? And I haven't." He defends.

You roll your eyes, "So why did O'Conner come up to me asking me about what you do to me, James?"

James looks like he's seen a ghost. He shakes his head and his hands come up to your shoulders, he’s gentle as he holds you, "Y/n, I never told him anything. Bloody hell, I'd never brag about shagging you to anyone, you deserve so much more than that."

He looks so sincere you sigh, "You think he just figured it out then?" You ask.

James smirks and plucks the daisy from behind his ear. He twirls it in front of you, "I mean this is pretty damning, isn't it?"

Your smile weakens, "Do you not like them?"

James laughs a little and his hand comes up to hold your cheek, "I love them, love." His hand lingers on your cheek and he starts to move his thumb, "Come on, let’s go back in, yeah?”

He starts to turn around but you grab his wrist, "Promise you didn't tell them about us?" You whisper, still feeling insecure.

"I promise." He reassures you. When a small bell chimes, he looks back to the door which swings open and Sirius and Remus come stumbling out.

Remus is holding onto Sirius's collar, helping him stay on his feet, "Mates, let's leave. Pads has had way too much to drink and he almost knocked O'Conner's teeth out in there." He groans. You and James look at each other, laughing.

"I'm seriously debating going back in there and punching that asshole myself." James jokes, swinging his arm around your shoulder and Sirius grins drunkenly.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Prongs?" He asks, staggering on his feet.

"Oh, I sure am." James says, smirking.

* * *

It happened a week later. All week, James had been visibly agitated after his Quidditch practices and he wouldn't tell you why.

It's Saturday morning now. Mail time. You're sitting in your usual seats: James and Sirius on one side, You and Remus on the other. James is directly in front of you and he’s been playing footsies since you all sat down. You can't hide your giggles and he can't hide his smile.

"Hey, hey, the show is starting soon."Sirius leans in after a while and smirks. James looks around excitedly as owls start to swoop in from the sky. You look at them: they look like giddy children that have just been allowed to have candy after 8pm.

"What did you guys do?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Remus chuckles from beside you, "You'll see."

You glance at him, surprised, "You're in on it, Moony?"

"Of course he is, this was a group project, doll." Sirius winked and then his eyes follow a brown owl. You recognize it as James's owl, only it isn't flying towards you guys.

"Where is your owl going, Jamie?" You frown

"Somewhere special." James says nonchalantly and turns to watch, his arms crossed as he leans on Sirius: who is leaning forward himself and resting his chin on his hand as he wears a smug grin.

You watch his owl swoop down near where some Gryffindor Quidditch players are eating, O'Conner being one of them. He's laughing obnoxiously and anger bubbles inside you.

Remus leans in to you and whispers, "3…2…1," Pause and then James's owl drops a letter in front of O'Conner. Sirius first pumps the air as James smirks.

"You sent O'Conner a letter?" You ask James, hesitantly.

"Better." He grins. As if in clock work, a loud voice booms over the dinning hall. You recognize it immediately, it's James. Well, it kinda sounds like James only he's making an exaggerated, frankly mocking, Australian accent. Quite like how O'Conner sounds normally.

James is also clearly attempting to sound more feminine and you cover your mouth in shock as James from inside the howler begins to talk, "Quinnie, this is mummy," You look at James and Sirius, who look like they're already pissing their pants with laughter.

"Hi my darling. I'm replying to your earlier letter. Daddy and I think you should get that itchy rash on your penis checked out sooner rather than later, honey. You've been a good boy and used protection, right?"

Remus snorts from next to you as you hear some laughter resound around the room. O'Conner looks absolutely mortified as his friends laugh around him. His misery isn't over as the howler continues, "Try Granny's cream every night, ok? Daddy and I hope you feel better soon, lovie. Kisses, your Mummy dearest." James ends the letter with a loud, slobbery, kiss and then the letter rips.

Sirius has his head in his arms and his shoulders bounce as he hyperventilates quietly while James looks extremely proud. Even Remus is wearing a shit-eating grin. When O'Conner looks at you all, his cheeks dusted pink from embarrassment and anger, James simply blows him a kiss and sends him the middle finger.

You laugh behind my hand, "Why did you guys do that?"

Sirius shrugged, "That bloke has always been an asshole,"

"And he was extremely disrespectful to you yesterday, Y/n/n." Remus points out, to which James nods as he eats a mouthful of scrambled eggs. You scrunch your nose at him and eat your toast. Occasionally, you'll look over at O'Conner, who looks absolutely infuriated as his friends tease him endlessly.

"Seeing his face turn that red was pretty satisfying." You point out.

"Anyways, he should have seen it coming. No one messes with my girl without consequences." He says it without a second thought and he doesn't even look phased. You on the other hand? You're extra aware of the dryness in your throat as you try and process what James so casually said. His girl? You look at Remus and then at Sirius almost for confirmation that he had indeed said it. They look a little unsure but more awkward than confused.

"Okay well, we have Potions. See you later." Sirius stands, looking at Remus and gestures for him to stand too, "Coming, Moons?"

Remus nods quickly and walks out behind him, leaving you and James alone.

You find it incredibly annoying how nonchalant James can be sometimes. "So, your girl, huh?" You ask, hesitantly.

James pauses and looks at you, something sparks in his eyes but it quickly dies as he bends his head and continues to eat, "Mmhm." His foot nudges yours a little, "You're our girl, and we take care of what's ours."

Your heart sinks. You don't want to be their girl. You want to be his girl. Instead of the girl he fucks in secret, you want to be the one he kissed sweetly in the hallway. You want to be more than just friends.

More than just fuck buddies.

"Oh." You say, your disappointment hidden behind a small smile and James perks up.

"Wanna ditch?" He asks with a smirk.

* * *

You and James like to play Wizard's Chess.

He's infamously bad at it which means you win everytime. Still, he always loses graciously and plays whenever you ask him.

You're sitting at the edge of the lake, the warm spring air hitting your skin, and the chess board Remus had gotten you for your sixteenth birthday sits in between you and James.

"Checkmate," You stick your tongue out at him as James groans.

James scrunches his brows and then, quite obviously, uses his knee to knock over the chessboard, "Oops." He laughs. You widen your eyes and try to push him on his shoulder but James just grips your wrist and pulls you into him.

He stumbles backwards until he's laying on the grass and you're hovering over him, sitting on his waist. You look at him, breathing heavily, and he looks at you.

You don't protest when James's hand curls around the back of your neck and he guides you down to kiss him. You melt into his arms. His hand finds your hair as he kisses you more passionately and for a moment you're content until James's other hand starts to tug at the buttons of your chemise. You tense and disconnect your lips, holding his hand away from your body.

"You ok?" He asks, sitting up and helping you sit in between his legs.

You can't look at him without feeling shame and embarrassment. Is this over? All because of your stupid feelings? You turn to him hesitantly and when you look at his lips, your heart hurts. Was this the last time you'll ever kiss him?

"Hey, love, what's wrong?" James asks, holding your cheeks in his hands and gently forcing you to look at him.

You shake your head and push him away, "James, no, you know I don't like it when you do that."

"Sorry," He whispers, his cheeks pink. You feel guilty.

"It's ok, Jamie. It's just," You rub your eyes and run a hand in your hair, probably messing it up, "I- I don't think I want to continue this. Us." You pause, "Not like this." You add in a whisper.

"What? Why?" James sounds confused and a little hurt, "Is it me? Have I not been good enough? I- I can learn, love." He stutters and I can't help but wonder why he's insisting so badly.

"No, you've been more than wonderful, James." You admit and then fiddle with your hands, "It's me,"

"Y/n, you're bloody fantastic." James interrupts, voice croaky.

You lower your eyes and smile softly, "No, it's because I think I've been falling in love with you." You say quietly and shut your eyes. You feel sick to your stomach.

James is not talking, he's not even moving anymore. You feel like you could vomit.

"You've been falling in love with me?" James asks.

Hearing those words, you quickly cover your face with your hands, "I- I'm sorry."

James takes your hands and gently moves them away from your face, "You're sorry?" You nod quickly and your heart pounds. Hope is a dangerous game, but James is smiling so maybe hope is worth the risk.

"Please don't be sorry, my love." James brings your palms to his lips and kisses your hand. His lips are light and shivers run up your arms, "I'm sorry. I have been such a fool." He leans his forehead on yours and suddenly, you feel lightheaded in a completely different way.

"James," You start but he interrupts you with a finger pressed to your lips.

"I didn't think you felt the same way as me," He chuckles, "I mean? Why would someone like you: someone so kind and honest, actually want more with someone like me? So, I was happy with our agreement because I still wanted to have you in any way I could. But, you love me? You really love me?" You nod and James's smile widens until it almost looks like it hurts him, "I've loved you since forever, Y/n/n, you can't even begin to imagine how happy you've made me."

"Really?" You ask.

James rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss you gently. He pulls away and smiles that grin you love so much, "I knew I wasn't as obvious as Remus and Sirius said I was." James teases and your eyes round as you lean away from him a little,

"Remus and Sirius know?"

James touches your cheek and looks at you fondly, "Yeah, about how madly in love with you I am, not our extracurricular activities." He jokes with a wink, "I think if I'd been honest to them about that, they would have warned me how dangerous it'll end up being for me, and in the end they would have been right."

You still feel like you're in a dream when you take his hand in yours and play with his fingers, "How's that, Jamie?" You whisper, simply enjoying the new found warmth in your stomach.

"Because it was absolutely torture to have you so close, and yet, so far away from me all the time." James says and you feel validated in your own feelings.

You nuzzles your head in his chest and wrap your arms around him,

"Well, you have me now." You reassure him. He sighs and holds the back of your head and for the first time, you have everything you want here in your arms. You smile against his chest, "Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend now when someone asks."

James huffs and kisses your head, "You better, love."

"And, am I your girl now?" You ask, more timidly now as you sit up and look him in the eyes. James’s hand runs along the grass as he smirks. You see him pluck a daisy from the ground and, as he places it behind your left ear, you feel your cheeks start to burn.

"You've always been my girl." He whispers and leans in to kiss you once more. You think he mumbles, "mine" against your lips again, but at that point you're too busy being lost in the moment.