fae !

Especially now, while you and Lily are sharing a bottle of wine in the warm ambience of her kitchen. You came over with this elaborate plan of how you could finally get over yourself and confess your feelings. But Lily—bless her heart—was so happy to see you, that things had started to take a little detour from your initial plan of action.

“—then I said, ‘No, Marls, don’t do it!’” Lily chuckles as she combs her fingers through her hair, ridding it of tangled knots. 

“But then she—” The redhead chuckles again, interrupting herself before continuing, “she actually—”

“Does it?” You finish for her with a smile, sensing familiar butterflies in your stomach whenever you’re looking at Lily.

“Yeah!” She giggles, it’s music to your ears, and nearly spills her wine as she wobbles on her feet.

You think it’s a grand opportunity, considering how she’s only had at least half of the wine in her glass. Still sober enough to be serious for an important conversation, and still tipsy enough to forget said conversation the day after.

“Anyway,” Lily starts again, sobering herself up despite the flush in her cheeks, “moving forward—”

“Hey, Lils—” 

You lunge as she nearly trips over herself while literally moving forward, catching her by the arms. You give her a squeeze to help ground herself, trying not to think about the warmth between your skinship.

As soon as Lily registers your hands gripping her steady, she frowns at them. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked.

How hypocritical of you, Evans, you thought to yourself.

“Oh, I’m quite dandy right now, actually. It’s you that’s not okay,” You tell her with gentle sarcasm in your voice. With an arm around her shoulders and a hand in the crook of her elbow, you guide her towards the living room.

Eventually, you make it to the worn brown couch that looks cozier than ever in the warm lighting of the lamp, standing in the corner. You make sure Lily makes a soft landing on the cushions, giving her a throw pillow when she barely reaches for one, before you sit right down beside her.

It’s a couch that fits four people, at most. But you’d think two people were sitting on either side of the couch while you and Lily sat tight and cozy in the middle. You can’t stop thinking about the warmth she’s radiating since you got here. 

You don’t realize you’re watching Lily with a weighted, concerned gaze until she’s smiling at you again, all amused and whimsical-looking.

“You’ve got that look on your face again.”

You sigh in fond exasperation, joining her in her lax position as you lean back on the couch.

“What look, Lils?”

She frowns and forms that adorable knot between her brows. “You know—that look!”

“I can’t really know that look if I can’t see myself doing it now, can I?”

“Oh… you’re right. Sorry.” 

She sounds truly crestfallen when the word slips out of her mouth, and you feel achy about it. Heartache-y. Perhaps you should get a move on with ‘the plan.’

“S’alright, Lils. No biggie.”

But Lily’s still tipsy. You can tell that by how slowly she’s blinking, how her lips are pouted, and how she’s staring off into the distance like there’s something to be found there.

Neither of you talk after a while. The silence, though, isn’t uncomfortable. It’s more than that. It feels charged. Heavy. Pregnant. 

The silence feels like it’s… waiting for itself to be broken—and Lily beats you to it.

“I really am glad you’re here, you know,” She opens up, voice a bit deeper and words a lot clearer than before. Still staring off into the distance but, nonetheless, you know she’s really starting to sober up now.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she continues.

There’s really no other way to go about it—that one’s totally your fault. What with an existential crisis about yourself, your country, your actual and romantic feelings for Lily, and so on—you had to step away from it all, if not completely, then at least for a while. 

That had completely slipped out of your mind for a long, long while.

You chuckle slightly, albeit a little sheepish. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in a while either.”

Then, silence. A few seconds pass because you let them, and it feels like you should speak next. So, you start with a deep breath, “I—”

“—missed you.”

It’s barely heard, but you can’t miss it. Not when Lily’s right beside you when she says it. Her breath brushes your ear, and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your breath hitches because it was exactly what you were going to say.

“I missed you,” Lily repeats herself, almost like her prior statement was just a slip of the tongue. Something that was just pure instinct, and not fully thought through. “Still miss you, actually.”

She sighs, forlorn, then shifts on her spot to face you completely like she’s about to drop something big and important. 

But you take the risk before you lose the chance to say what you’ve been meaning to say since you came over.

“I have to tell you something,” You blurt out as Lily takes a sharp breath. She blinks, then nods for you to continue. With a deep breath, you do. “I…”

How do you start coming out to your best friend?

How do you say ‘I miss you’ in a non-homosexual way to the girl you’re totally homosexual for? Just to prepare Lily for the eventual truth bomb, of course. 

You think Lily catches the gulp you take and the fidgeting you do with your fingers, because she prompts, “You what, Y/N?” in that soft, sweet voice of hers.

You don’t even know why you’re so scared. This is the Lily Evans—kind-hearted to a fault, and the personified antonym of judgmental. She’s fearless for herself, and for her friends. Most of all, you know that she loves you. That goes without saying, yes. But you’re not sure it’s in the way that your heart has always wanted since the day you met her.

“I—” You exhale, trying to get over your ridiculous thoughts. “I missed you, too.”

Lily sighs like it’s a relief that you told her that. “Was that so hard to tell me? Here I was, expecting something else to come out of your mouth.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what, then?”

“Dunno. Doesn’t have to be specific, really. Maybe something that goes like ‘I just found out that my great gran disowned me?’”

A chuckle bubbles up unexpectedly from your throat, and Lily joins you in your amusement. The tense air disperses for a while as you share the laughter, but then you let out a small, happy sigh.

“Seriously, though. I do need to tell you something. Not just—” You shake your head, “not just ‘I miss you.’”

“Okay, er—” Lily straightens her posture, eyebrows furrowing in concern, “—go ahead. Tell me.”

“Right, so…” You take another deep breath because this is the moment: the make-or-break moment of your friendship with Lily. “...you know how there’s been rumours about Freddie Mercury going around? About his… health and—sexuality…?”

“Yeah, heard about it on the news,” The redhead replied. “What about them?”

“Well… you see…” You turn your head down, picking at your fingernails. “I’m kind of going through the same thing?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lily coos, arms instantly coming round you, squeezing you tight. You return her embrace with equal, grateful measure. It was a hug you probably needed. “I’m sorry you’re going through that. I had no idea.”

You think the conversation’s getting off on a good note, so far. So, you continue, chuckling sheepishly. “Yeah, well. It’s not easy to say or go through, not exactly.

“But… that’s not all that there is, really.”

“Oh? Then what else is there to say?”

“I don’t have rumors going ‘round about me. Not like Freddie Mercury,” A weak attempt at lightening up the situation, but you coax a small smile out of Lily. “But the sexuality bit… that one’s true.”

There’s silence after that. You’re waiting and watching for Lily’s reaction. Anything that would signal you to back out of this conversation altogether or continue. But she’s just as serious as she was earlier when the topic about Freddie Mercury opened in the first place. You take it as a sign to go on.

Besides, you’ve come here with a clear objective, right? The worst that could happen was… your potential rejection, and the possibility that Lily might find you repulsive after and kick you out of her flat.

You decide to take that risk with the thought that we, human beings, only live once. If you couldn’t confess to Lily now, then when will you ever?

“The truth is, Lils, I’m saying all this because…” You give out a small huff of courage. “I like girls.”

Expecting silence to take over again, you get brave to glance at Lily, who’s now smiling at you with so much pride, it feels just slightly overwhelming.

“Y/N,” She starts, taking your hands in both of hers, thumbs sweeping over your knuckles. “I’m really glad you decided to tell me this, I—”

“I like you, too.”

Lily freezes upon hearing you say that, so you’re frozen, too. Perhaps it was because of the way she took your hands and held it in hers, so warm and welcoming. Not an ounce of roughness despite the rough texture of her hard-working hands. Not a hint of carelessness despite the gentle manner she holds your hands with.

“I meant to say—” You sigh, frustrated with yourself for being so unclear. “I like girls, and I like you, Lils. As… as more than just my best friend. So much more than that.”

It comes as a surprise to you that she’s still holding your hands despite the truth bomb you’d just dropped on her all of a sudden. But, if anything, you’re grateful that she hasn’t found you so repulsive to flinch away from you. Well, not yet at least.

“Is that…” Lily finally speaks, sounding slightly out of breath. You’re hoping it’s not because she’s about to cry and disown you as her friend. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is,” You answer with a reluctant smile, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Your vision becomes blurry, so you rush to say, “I know that might throw you off, Lils, but it’s been true for so long that I—”

Lily thumbs away the tear slipping down your cheek—the tear you didn’t even realize was there in the first place. That action alone prompts a sob out of you. Whether that was a sob of relief, forgiveness for yourself, or fear, however—you couldn’t decide.

“It’s okay,” She whispers to you, tucking a hair strand behind your ear. Her hand lingers near your cheek. “Just breathe, yeah? Breathe, darling.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting more tears rain down on your face. Lily frees her hands to press them against your cheeks, grounding you with pressure alone. She guides you through one, two, three deep breaths, until the last exhale finally eases your nerves and rapid heartbeat. 

“M’sorry, sorry…” You sniffle, shaking your head as your hands rise to pry Lily’s off of your face, already more than grateful for her kindness, but she just presses them closer (if that was even possible).

“No, don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, alright?” There’s more hair falling around your face, so she tucks the strands behind both your ears. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

“No, you don’t understand,” You rush to say, trying to sober up as you blink rapidly. “I’m— I’m not normal—”

“And who is, these days, anyway?” Lily stresses, “Listen to me, alright? Listen to me very carefully, because I know how stubborn you are, especially when you’re trying to get the last word in. Okay?”

“Okay,” You murmur weakly.

“The world isn’t kind to anyone, we both know that,” Her hands leave your face—your flushed cheeks contrasting against the sudden cold. But then she holds your hands tightly as she says, “But I am, and we both know that, don’t we?”

You nod your head in reply.

Lily nods back, satisfied with your response. “So, all I can tell you now is thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this, and for being honest with me. I accept—”

You’re crying again before she gets to go through with her sentence, but it doesn’t faze Lily in the slightest. In fact, she tilts your head back up with a finger, and wipes away your tears. When your sobs get quiet and shoulders stop shaking, she continues.

“I accept who you are—that never really changed since high school, Y/N. Even when I wasn’t aware of this about you. Really, I— it’s more than that, actually. I feel…” Horrified? Disgusted? Fascinated like I’m some alien or species of some kind—

“...I feel the same way about you.”

You must be so out of it already that you might have misheard Lily telling you that she feels the same way about you. Internally, you curse your mind for playing cruel tricks on your senses.

But you still feel the warmth of her hands pressed to your cheeks, the fabric of her dress brushing against your knees, the weight of this entire moment— it’s all still so present, and so vivid, they couldn’t possibly be just a figment of your imagination.

“You do?” You ask her.

Lily nods, smiling in that bedazzling way she always does. Her eyes are all watery now, too. “I do, yeah. I really, really do.”

A wet chuckle slips past your lips, and this time around, you initiate the skinship— leaning forth to press your forehead against hers, closing your eyes. 

“That’s a relief,” You whisper with a smile. “There was no one else, Lils. Just you. Only you.”

You hear Lily sigh, then, her breath brushing against your lips. The tips of your noses bump into each other. It all feels like the right moment to get rid of the space between you and finally learn how it feels like to kiss a girl— your dream girl since high school.

But neither of you closes the space nor asks for it to happen. You just sit there— enjoying each other’s company, and the relief that you both don’t feel the need to hide behind ‘just friends’ anymore.

But at the very same time you’d think of those words, you spiral towards the other meaning of it all. How it couldn’t be you that has a person to call your own, to look forward to seeing every day, to love you.

And so, you’d resigned yourself again to the fate of spending Valentine’s Day alone. Without a person to ask, it was kind of hopeless anyway, you thought.

But when the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius caught wind of your predicament, he sought to remedy it; immediately.

Never one to back down from a challenge nor see any of his friends (you, included) so sad and blue, Kaeya had spent the days leading up to the occasion meticulously planning an evening full of romance. He was hell-bent on charming the hell out of you, set on making you forget about loneliness as a whole, as long as you were in his company.

Thus, now, he stands in front of your doorstep, a lovely bouquet of Windwheel Asters in his hand, clad in his best clothes in regards to the date he had planned for the both of you for tonight. When he had asked you, you had all but laughed in his face, amused by the absurdity of it all.

Kaeya almost felt offended by the sound of your laughter, in spite of how it sounded like music to his ears. Why were you laughing at him? Surely, you knew that he was being serious… right?

When the laughter died down from your lips, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes, he took the chance to speak again, a hint of bewilderment etched onto his face.

“Well, that was pretty harsh,” Kaeya chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans his weight towards one leg. “Are you done laughing now or should I get you some tissues?”

You startle. “Wait… were you actually being serious?”

“Sweetheart, I was being serious the whole time. Did you honestly think I’d ask you out as a joke?” He scoffs, slightly affronted by the doubtful look in your eyes. “You should really cut me some slack, you know. I know I’m cunning, but I’d never go that far.”

You sigh, feeling your face grow warm with shame and embarrassment by his remarks. Your hand reaches up to rub at the back of your neck in a sheepish manner.

“Sorry, Kaeya.”

“If you were really sorry, you’d accept me being your Valentine.”

You chuckled in response, shoulders slightly easing from the tension from the earlier moment of embarrassment. It was safe to say that the conversation ended quite well - you’d finally agreed to Kaeya’s request to spend the occasion with him as your Valentine.

One slight problem, though. While you had agreed to his kind request under the guise of a friendly date, Kaeya couldn’t help but feel like he had missed an opportunity to take things further.

(He likes you, and it’s way too much to consider it still being a platonic feeling. But he would never admit that aloud, of course. Who is Kaeya if not secretive about his emotions, especially to himself?)

Kaeya realizes that he’s been standing at your doorstep like an idiot for what was longer than necessary. Raising a hand, he raps against your door, tightening his grasp around the bouquet in his other hand as he steels himself for the moment you open your door to him.

And just like that, he feels like he’s frozen from head to toe as the door finally opens, revealing you.

The dim candlelight coming from inside your house spilled out into the doorway, framing you from behind in a brilliant, glowing halo, accentuating your beautiful figure, dressed in an elegant, and form-fitting outfit.

He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been staring at you until you cleared your throat, breaking him out of his trance-like state.

Kaeya remembers to act normal again, beginning with a sly chuckle as he says, “Well, well, well. You clean up pretty nicely, Y/N.”

You return his compliment with a bashful smile, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, “Thank you. I only aim to please, Kaeya.”

“Oh, and you have certainly accomplished that, and more,” He replies, eyes glimmering with the ever so present hint of playfulness, his voice dropping to a smooth, velvety tone.

“But… if pleasing is your aim,” Kaeya adds, “Then you must know that I have some ideas on how you can do it even better..." His words were laced with a hint of flirtation that was subtle yet undeniable.

You gaped at him, “Sorry?”

You’re certain that Kaeya could tell that he’d flustered you, but even if he didn’t, he’d made no attempt at bringing it up as he steps closer to you, gaze unwavering from yours, and hands the bouquet to you.

“These are for you, by the way,” He says, feigning nonchalance as you take it with two hands. Kaeya watches you take a whiff of the Asters with a warm, but proud smile.

Glad for the change in topic, you find yourself relaxing as you smell the flowers in your hands.

“Thank you, Kaeya. They’re wonderful,” You smile back at him in gratitude, a faint hue of pink dusting your cheeks.

The Cavalry Captain’s smile could only grow (and glow) more with pride for himself, “Well, I’m glad you like them. Because lucky for you, I also aim to please.”

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes, “What does that mean?”

“Why, I picked them out myself, of course. The whole bouquet was arranged by yours truly,” Kaeya gestures to himself, doing a small bow for the sake of theatrics.

He earns the melodic sound of your laughter, and Kaeya hides a fond smile to himself as he stands back up to his full height, towering over yours.

“That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you, really.”

“Like I said, I only aim to please.”

With that, Kaeya offers his arm for you to take whilst flashing you a smile, fully committing to the whole being-your-Valentine ordeal. He was determined to show you just how much of a gentleman he could be, and maybe, just maybe, make you see him in a different light.

For the first part of your evening together as Valentines, Kaeya takes you to the Dawn Winery, where a lovely dinner prepared by the head housemaid, Adelinde, awaits the both of you. After that, a stroll through the vineyard to “burn the food in our stomachs, and make room for some drinks,” as per Kaeya’s words.

And the whole time, you find yourself enjoying the evening, despite your initial dejections of Valentine’s Day as a whole. But with Kaeya keeping you company, and taking you out on a date for that matter, who were you to remain in your low spirits?

The air was crisp and fresh as the both of you walked side by side through the vineyard, the sweet scent of ripe grapes filling your nostrils with each step you took, both of your hands lingering by your sides.

Kaeya found it especially hard not to notice how he could brush his fingers against yours in one, small move. He wasn’t sure if it was the sweet scent of grapes surrounding them that was enticing him, nearly emboldening him, or if it was the sight of you bathed under the moonlight, casting you in an angelic glow.

And he thought he’d never seen someone so beautiful up close right from the very first moment he saw you. Kaeya couldn’t quite fathom how you seemed to take his breath away, time and time again, no matter how dressed up you were or not.

All of a sudden, the man who had always kept his secrets close to his chest, found himself wanting to spill out everything he truly felt about you all at once, at this very moment in time.

But for now, Kaeya thinks it would be best to just keep his feelings at bay, content with merely being in your presence, and enjoying each other's company in the beautiful vineyard, under the moon and stars.

In the meantime, he’ll let the star-filled sky, and the vines and foliage surrounding you alongside the ripened grapes, bear witness to the way he longed for you.

So close, and yet, so far.

( ♡ )

But then again, he was also currently not studying for finals despite being surrounded by his textbooks, and the multiple tabs opened on his computer. No, he was staring right at an open Facebook tab, eyes darting over every single aspect of a specific profile as his fingers swiped up and down on the touchpad, scrolling through the profile.

He’s inherently aware that he should be studying, of course. Like many other college students think, the finals season was a force to be reckoned with, and it was absolutely critical that every spare time spent is for studying for the examinations. But as far as James was also aware of—he couldn’t sit still and be laser-focused on doing godforsaken tasks such as studying for his finals.

And so, here he was, scrolling mindlessly on your Facebook profile. Because, really, he tends to get into a sentimental mood whenever he studies. It’s either he’s looking at a photo album and reminiscing memories, grabbing random things displayed around his room and thinking about what they meant to him, or, you know, scrolling mindlessly on Facebook because that’s where his past connection with you is immortalized.

He doesn’t quite know how it all started—for one thing, he remembers being a highschool heartthrob, girls and boys alike falling at his feet. And if he was feeling particularly spunky, he’d entertain a few pretty birds or two. All the while, they had never meant anything to him other than an ego boost or just a mere distraction (which, he admittedly thinks now, made him a dick).

But amongst all of these flings, James remembers one differently than the others. He remembers you—you and your smile, your laugh, your ability to make him feel like he’s on top of the world, your ability to suddenly make everything good in the world only ten times better. He remembers absolutely everything about you. Both the good, and the bad.

He never tries to think of the bad, but even as he reminisces on the good times he’s had with you, it makes him feel just as sad as when he thinks of the bad times. So it’s a never-ending struggle against keeping you close in his memories whilst also being aware that it wasn’t right, it wasn’t healthy for him. Only fools have attachment issues with their highschool ex that they carry on to their college life.

Perhaps that was why it had all gone downhill for the both of you, he thought. As a young teenage boy capable of attracting attention from left and right, and regularly switching between person to person, he couldn’t handle ‘serious.’ He’d selfishly wanted you all to himself, but without the limits of commitment. Meanwhile, you wanted ‘serious.’ You wanted commitment. James was scared because he was unfamiliar with it all.

So naturally, you had drifted apart, never again boarding on the seesaw of your ‘relationship’ with each other. The one that bordered on the line between friends and lovers.

And in a petty attempt to ‘get back at you’ and forget about you wholly, James strived to disconnect you from across all his social media accounts, erasing any and every semblance of a connection between the two of you.

Well, all except Facebook.

It’s a guilty pleasure for him, checking on your Facebook profile every now and then. And each time, it comes to his surprise that he’s still even able to view your profile freely, as you hadn’t made the move to unfriend him like he expected you to. He feels lucky that he’s still able to keep up with your life despite not having to be in it anymore. But then again, you had always been kind back then; it’s one of the many other reasons why he still loves you, really.

But oh, how he wishes he was still in it.

James would never admit it aloud to anyone that even after all this time, he’s still not over you. Yet, at the same time, he doesn’t want to be over you. You were the next best thing to something he didn’t even know he was looking for at the time. He had underestimated how much of an impact your presence had made on him, regardless of how brief it was.

He misses you, so to speak.

It’s a pretty shitty feeling, to miss someone he can’t really see anymore, nor talk to or reach out to.

On some days, it’s easy to bear. College keeps him busy, his friends keep him entertained, and he’s been going out on a few dates, too - trying to find someone better than you so he can finally subdue the lingering feelings in his heart, and end this endless cycle of longing and waiting and loving.

And most nights, he’s able to sleep peacefully with dreams of a distant fantasy where he’s managed to finally find someone new, someone better. Someone else who could give him what you took back.

But on the other days and nights, James faces the harsh truths that there was simply no one better than you, and that a part of him will always long for you back in his life, right where you belonged.

And so, as he scrolls through your Facebook profile, and sees glimpses into your life nowadays, he can’t help but miss you more than he already does, unknowingly and unforgivably. Of course, he’s highly aware that shamelessly stalking you every now and then was incredibly creepy of him, yet, he can’t help it. He’s silently relieved by the fact that there appears to be no sign of you in a relationship at the moment, almost selfishly thinking, maybe I have a chance.

But he knows it’s a far stretch, knows that whatever the both of you had with each other was a thing of the past now, nothing but a fleeting memory. And now that he’s a little older and wiser than he was when he met you, James has made a silent acceptance of the fact that he may never be with you again in the way he wants to. He’s not afraid of ‘serious’ anymore, nor is he afraid of commitment, and he no longer blames it on his unfamiliarity either. Now, he wants it too.

But as always, he was late to realize it. And at the same time, you were no longer there to wait for him to.

And so, as James continues to pine after you even after all this time, he’s foolishly hoping that the two of you would cross paths again; get to know each other again, get to know him again now that he’s managed to grow into a better version of himself. He wishes that you’d met this version of him first, because maybe then, you would have stayed together.

But of course, as the harsh reality of things would have it, James is more than happy to just stay friends with you on Facebook. He’ll keep you close in his memories while silently hoping for a chance to try again. To try it all with you again.

Suddenly, he feels the desk shake from beneath him, a vibrating sensation that pulls him out of his thoughts of you. It comes from his phone, which now shows a wacky selfie of Sirius, indicating a call from him.

James stares at it for a few seconds, debating on whether he should answer his friend’s call despite the likely reason that it’s just another one of Sirius’ jests or drunk calls, or maybe even a butt dial. But he decided to welcome the distraction eventually, placing his headphones around his neck as he moved to grab the phone, pressing it to his ear.

“Hello—”

“OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR, YOU MORON! I’VE BEEN KNOCKING FOR THE PAST TEN MINUTES HERE!”

James nearly jolts out of his seat as he pulls the phone away from his ear by Sirius’ yelling. He has half a mind to yell back at him and explain that he was ‘in the middle of something,’ which led to his not noticing his friends’ knocking.

But he doesn’t find the energy to do it no matter how annoying Sirius was being. So, he sighs.

James hears the banging on his door now, and the yelling comes again from both outside his door, and the speakers on his phone. It forms an echo of Sirius’ voice demanding that he be let in, and it gives James a headache.

He calls out, “I’m coming!” in an annoyed voice, rushing to close the open tab of your Facebook profile on his laptop so he could finally open the door for his friend.

What James doesn’t notice though is that during the process of closing the tab, he’d managed to accidentally leave a like on one of your old posts. He never visits your profile again after letting Sirius come in and hang around his dorm for the remainder of the day. Thus, imagine his surprise the next day, as he opens the Facebook tab again, finding a message waiting for him, and from you.

hi james :) how are you doing?

And just like that, the inhibitions that had once held him back from indulging in his desires to try another chance with you are completely shed as James hastily typed out his response.

( ♡ )

You were fortunate enough to witness both of these sides to his bizarre personality, to put it simply. You can’t forget the very first time you met his warm brown eyes with yours, and the way he beamed at you instantly like he knew something you did not (in the future, you think to yourself that maybe that was true). You first have an encounter with the side of James that’s easy to hate, what with the jokes and pranks he pulled as a young boy in Hogwarts, coupled with the relentless teasing he threw your way each and every time he’d catch a glimpse of you in the corridors of the castle, or sit next to you during classes.

Even then, you also remember the very first time you caught sight of the side of James that was easy to love.

—

“Hey, you,” You don’t need to turn your head to know who it was that sat beside you. And you don’t need to look at him to see the mischievous smirk on his face, because you could already hear it in his voice.

You expect him to bring up something ridiculous that he’s noticed about you in particular today, like he always does in his ‘routine’ with you, but the growing silence between you is void of that. You start to turn your head to look at him out of curiosity when he speaks up again.

“Helloooo?” James drawls, his annoyance is clear in his voice even as he calls your name. “I’m trying to talk to you, and you won’t even look at me? How rude.”

It takes every ounce of your pride not to roll your eyes at him. You wouldn’t give James the satisfaction of showing how much he bothers you. Otherwise, he’d never stop.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t stop.

You hear him scoff in disbelief from beside you, and an image of him with crossed arms and a pout on his lips crosses your mind.

“Wow, you’re giving me the silent treatment? And here I thought we were just starting to get along just fine!” And just as quickly as he starts, James is rambling on about how it was totally unfair that you’re just blatantly ignoring him when the first class of the day had barely even begun.

You decide right then and there to finally turn your head towards him, and James cuts himself off from his rambling as the corners of his lips curl up into an amused smirk.

He’s not even fazed in the slightest as you glare daggers at him. “There you are,” He smiles victoriously, crossing his arms as his chest puffs out with pride. “Took you long enough.”

This time, you allow yourself to roll your eyes.

“You were being loud, and I prefer to wait for our professor in silence,” You emphasise the last word of your statement, looking pointedly at James.

He’s still smiling at you as he says, “Yeah, I know.”

You ought to punch the smile off of his face. “You know?”

James nods his head, and his messy curls follow with the motion. You think it frames his face quite nicely, fortifying his boyish charm. But then you remember that you’re supposed to be annoyed with him, not charmed.

“Of course, I do,” He grins, “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

“James, we aren’t friends.” You hear yourself speak, although you obviously thought otherwise with the hint of fondness in your tone.

“What?!” He gasps, bewilderment etched onto his face. “We aren’t?”

You could tell that he was just being himself, theatrical with the bewildered look on his face. James’ eyes are wide with mock-disbelief, his nostrils are flaring, and his mouth is hung open like he’s actually shocked.

Before you even realise it, you’re already laughing hard, and your hand moves to clutch your stomach in the process.

James smiles at the sound of your laughter, taking in the way your eyes were crinkled and sparkling with amusement. He looks proud of himself.

“I like your laugh,” He says to you in a soft, honest voice. “You should do it more often when you’re with me.”

The laughter dies down in your throat, and you can’t tell how you feel about his words. But your chest fills with a weird sense of warmth, and it spreads throughout your whole body as James continues to gaze at you like you’re the most interesting thing to look at.

—

You remember it quite vividly, that very moment in time. It happened back when you were just first-years, new to the world of Hogwarts, and to each other. But you suppose you’re able to vividly picture the memory in your head, even after all this time, because James still manages to give you the same warm feeling that fills your chest and spreads throughout your body.

It’s there when he compliments you genuinely for the first time, and it’s there when he smiles at you when you lock eyes with each other from across the room.

It’s not there, however, when he voices out his feelings for Lily Evans to you during your fourth year at Hogwarts.

—

“Honestly, she can slap me with a book, and I’d thank her.” James sighs dreamily as he places his chin on his hand.

“Alright, Jamie. I think we’ve got your point.” Sirius rolls his eyes at his friend’s dazed expression. You snicker at his reaction, and you silently hope it’s enough to hide the disappointment in your eyes.

The boy in question, however, still continues. “No, because – why is she so pretty? And kind? And smart? Bloody hell, she’s perfect! How is she perfect?”

You and Sirius sigh in unison, although for very different reasons; Sirius sighs out of exasperation from James’ dramatic antics, and you sigh out of, well, despair.

You can’t quite place when it all had started. You just remember that once upon a time, James was easy to hate. But then, once upon another time, he suddenly wasn’t.

From then on, James had switched to being relentless in his pursuit of Lily instead of being relentless with teasing you. This had lasted until the end of your sixth year at Hogwarts, but much to no avail, James was nowhere near capturing the heart of the girl of his dreams.

—

The sight of James slumped down against the couch, looking so down on his luck, reminds you of a wilted flower. It makes you sad, and it breaks your heart.

In the midst of your attempts at comforting him, a sickly feeling lies deep in your chest. A selfish voice whispers in the back of your mind, this is your chance, it says. You don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it.

“It’s not the end of the world if she doesn’t notice you, you know,” You say to him, your voice low and soothing as you allow it to be, in spite of your own feelings.

James just sighs heavily for what seemed like the nth time that day, a deep frown decorating his pretty lips. “Well, it feels like it.”

You sigh in return, more out of exasperation than in sympathy this time. You open your mouth again to retort with another attempt at consoling him, but he beats you there first with another self-deprecating comment.

“I mean, what’s wrong with me?” James looks at you, and you can see the pain in his eyes. It tugs at your heartstrings, and it makes you want to do everything you can to make it go away.

And so, you do.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, James,” You scoot closer to him where you sit on the couch, but keep a reasonably safe distance away from him still. “Absolutely nothing. Sure, you’re a little overbearing at times, but that’s okay. That’s who you are.”

For a moment, it seems like he takes the weight of your words in, and mulls it over in his head. But then, “How do I know that who I am is okay?”

You resist the urge to sigh heavily and cry. Because nothing could ever hurt more than watch the boy you’re in love with beat himself up over his inability to catch a girl’s attention — who, not to mention, isn’t you, but that’s beside the whole point.

“James….” Your voice trails off, it catches his attention.

“Sirius, Remus, and Peter are proof enough that who you are is okay. Merlin– even I’m proof enough that who you are is okay.”

This time around, it actually does seem like James realizes the truth in your words, and allows a small smile to appear on his face.

“You really think so?” He asks sheepishly.

You almost scoff in disbelief. “I know so.”

Now, you think that perhaps that was the time you had inadvertently diverted James’ attention from Lily back to you, because the week following that particular conversation, he appeared before you with a certain look in his eyes that you only saw in your foolish dreams.

Long story short, he says that he likes you. You say you feel the same way, and the both of you step into a new relationship together as more than just friends. This is the nicest feeling ever, you thought at the time. Everything you’ve dreamed of doing with James suddenly became a reality, and selfishly, you think you never want to dream about anything ever again because nothing could ever compare to the feeling of being with James in actuality; holding hands, stealing kisses, casual touches, sharing glances across the room—everything.

The both of you last a month at best.

—

“Hey,” You greet him with a small smile as you approach him on the couch in the Common Room.

You prepare for the conversation that’s about to come as James tears his eyes away from a certain redhead sitting across the room, and shifts his attention to you.

He returns your smile with his own.

“Hey,” James greets back as you sit yourself down beside him. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s... it’s been great,” You chuckle weakly as you nod along with your words, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself that you were having a great day. James catches onto it.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” He shifts closer to you, your knees bump into each other. You subtly pull away from the touch, and you thank the gods that James doesn’t notice.

“James, I…” You trail off, struggling to find the words to say. Meanwhile, he remains oblivious to your inner turmoil as he nods his head encouragingly, ready to listen to your thoughts.

How exactly do you break up with someone who you want to be with more than anything? Now that James was yours, you had wanted nothing more to hold him close and never let go. It was selfish, you knew that feeling well enough. But still, it always comes, and it never goes.

It isn’t what you wanted to do—it’s never what you wanted to do—but you notice how James still stares at Lily Evans longingly when she’s in the same room as the both of you are, how it lingers even when you ask him what he was looking at despite knowing the answer. It doesn’t take much effort to understand that James’ heart still lies with Lily’s hands. And as much as it hurt for you to realize that, you knew that you needed to do this. You knew that you both needed this, even if you wanted nothing more than to keep him close to you.

“I think we should end things… between us.” You finally manage to say after a gruesome moment of silence. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a head with fiery red hair turn subtly towards your direction.

James’ brows pinch in confusion, and his hands reach out to hold you by the arms. You don’t pull away.

“What? Why?” He asks you, pleading for you to make him understand why you’d say such a thing.

“I just…” You take a quick breath. “I just feel like we’re better off as friends.”

You couldn’t believe what you were saying, and it looked like even James couldn’t either. All you could think of was how you wanted to take it all back, take him back.

At first, it seemed like he was about to contradict your statement, and you push down the hope that bubbles in your chest at the sight of it. But then, he sighs, pulling his hands away from your arms and placing them on his lap.

“There’s no spark, is there?” James says with an apologetic smile. You hate it, in spite of the fact that it was his smile.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and force a smile of your own onto your face, shaking your head.

“No. No spark.” You hear yourself say, but you know deep down that it wasn’t true. There was a spark, but it didn’t ignite into a fire because it was one-sided. Unrequited. Unreturned.

“Well,” James began, “It was fun while it lasted, Y/N.”

You try to ignore the fact that the sound of your name on his tongue leaves you with a bittersweet feeling, considering the situation you’ve just put yourselves into. But, you force a smile, and act as natural and casual as you possibly could.

“Yeah, it was fun,” You agreed quietly, not quite finding the conviction you hoped for in your words.

And so, it began; you keep a front every time you were around James, you try not to be bothered by how unbothered he is despite coming from a break up with you, but you suspect you should have known better than that. It wasn’t like he really liked you anyways, right? You had offered yourself up when the opportunity presented itself, and regardless of the magical month that you and James had together, it made you feel like shit.

Because it was still one-sided. Unrequited. Unreturned.

Thinking about it now, you deem yourself foolish for even entertaining the whole idea that you and James actually stood a chance - no, that you stood a chance with him altogether. You beat yourself up over the fact that you’ve had silly dreams that house you and James together in a place of your own, matching rings on both of your hands, little footsteps running around the house, and laughing together because of how pathetically you pined after him, and how much of an idiot he was to realize it later.

You’ve accepted that it’s a dream you won’t ever share with James.

—

“Sickle for your thoughts?” Remus’ voice ripples through the tense air you’ve managed to surround yourself in. He’s studying your face intently, taking in the way your brows are creased with concentration, and how you’ve been glaring daggers at the innocent, folded table napkin in front of you.

You blink rapidly, as if snapping yourself out of your own thoughts, and remembering the present. It was a happy day, a momentous occasion between two beings in love - that’s what everyone else called it, anyway. You’ve managed to convince yourself that it’s what you’re gonna call it, too. Despite it being a momentous occasion between a girl you once wished was you, and a man you’ve loved ever since you could perform the Levitation Spell in first year.

You begin with a sigh, “It’s nothing, Rem. Just doing some last-minute reminiscing before my grand speech,” You hide your bitterness with a soft chuckle.

Remus, ever the observant one, sees through it. But he doesn’t say anything about it, and instead, settles for a sigh and a hand over yours. You’re grateful for his thoughtful gesture of silent support, and so you turn your hand over, palm facing his own, and give it a squeeze.

The intimate moment is shattered by Sirius’ yell for a toast to the groom and bride. You and Remus share an amused glance with each other before raising both your glasses up in the air as a toast, mirroring Sirius and each and every one of the other guests there with you.

“Okay, show’s over, folks,” Sirius slurs, clearly a little tipsy (or more than a little) as he looks pointedly at you with a smirk from up front. “It’s the pretty bird’s turn.”

Most heads turn to follow his gaze towards you, and whisper to each other, asking who it was that the best man was referring to, but some throw you knowing, and expectant looks, maybe even a hint of a smile on some of their faces.

But you don’t care about any of them as you lock eyes with James for the briefest of moments, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest because wow, he looks good in a tuxedo, and wow, his smile is dazzling, and you feel lucky it’s thrown at you, even if it doesn’t mean the way you want it to.

You stand up from your seat, Remus gives you an encouraging smile, and you return it warmly with one of your own. As you approach the front, Sirius hugs you by the side and presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head, and you mutter a quiet word of thanks because you know what it means. You silently thank every deity out there for having the kindest friends in the world as you take a deep breath and prepare to say your words for James and Lily.

It goes like this: before you begin, you flash a warm smile towards the newly wedded couple, and with that, you begin your speech. You recount a few silly stories and tell fun facts about James Potter as a person, as a friend, and as a lover (that’s not yours). You tell James directly in front of the crowd how lucky he is to have someone like Lily Evans to ground him, and you tell Lily how lucky she is to have someone like James to keep her on her toes, and to love her like never before. You end your speech with a toast, wishing all the best and all the happiness in the world for the newly wedded couple.

And there was no bitter malice behind your words, no biting envy in your tone. Because whilst in the middle of an ironic situation where you’re on the sidelines again—longing for James, and wishing to be Lily—you accept the state of things, and reach a realization with resignation.

Inside of you, there are two parts of a whole.

The one part that will always love James no matter what, and the unforgiving part that will always long for him.

( ♡ )

You’re a lot like him in many ways, except much softer and much much more a receiver of the most genuine of smiles that greet you every morning. Shouldering the chores of the elderly and baking sweets for the children has earned you the title of resident sweetheart, adored by many. And Itto, who can't be caught never by your side, has no idea that he has already won your neighbors’ approval for the “boyfriend spot” from the very start. Because everyone can agree that Arataki Itto is nothing but the epitome of kindness, and it surrounds him wherever he goes. So, it would be him and no one else.

Unfortunately, you're too much of a sweetheart. They can’t help but pity you sometimes because the other (and the first) word they would use to describe him is loud. Arataki Itto is as loud as his heart, and somehow, it doesn’t make you want to bang your head against the wall. They have no idea how you manage to keep up with the chaos he brings to your doorstep. You even encourage it, much to their displeasure, and it wouldn’t be a surprise to know if the nations outside Inazuma have heard of your blossoming love story.

But really, they pity the man himself more than anything; because even with Arataki Itto yelling at the top of his lungs about how you're the most beautiful human he's ever met in his entire life at the roof of Tenshukaku, you just won't get it. 

"This one's for you, (Y/N)!"

The sun has just begun to set when the sweet melody of a song from Mondstadt drifts along the gentle wind, and it’s almost beautiful — until the singer starts to trail off and stutter with his words, miserably failing to save himself by reading off a piece of paper.

Everyone sighs (affectionately).

You step out to your porch, drawn by the harmony of the instruments that make up for the questionable vocals. Owner of said vocals completely loses the tune when he catches the sight of you, raising his arms above his head and flailing them wildly as if he hasn’t seen you in years (he just helped you with your groceries this morning).

Half the population of Inazuma has collectively decided to support “Operation: Oni Heart Attack” because of this little predicament. Yes, it sounds lame, childish, and stupid—and it is—but consider how dedicated Itto has become since they successfully convinced him that No ... (Y/N) isn't dating you, boss.

“Weren’t we about to kiss last night?”

“You were too busy staring at them because they had sauce on their cheek. You couldn't even wipe it off.”

“And?”

Operation: Oni Heart Attack it is! 

Plan A: woo you into jumping into his big (note: beefy) arms by serenading you with the cheesiest love song known to man. That’s the most swoon-worthy thing a guy could ever do for their (soon to be) lover, right? It’s impossible you wouldn’t kiss him then! He isn’t one to brag — being the humblest guy there is — but who can resist his sweet charming sexy voice?

Don’t get the Arataki Gang wrong! They love the man as if he were their own blood, but even that bond isn't strong enough to keep them from wincing and wanting to rip their ears off. Shouldn't it be enough that they applauded him as if their lives depended on it after his week or two of practice? He doesn’t sound like he’s singing. At all. But who has the guts to tell him that?

And for some reason, you don’t know that either. Or you could just be trying to spare Itto’s feelings. But you’re humming along to the lyre being played by the guy beside him with a smile that reaches your eyes with no hints of amusement or pity or anything that would make him ashamed. You’re treating them like they’re Mondstadt bards, not someone who’s serenading you to win your heart.

“Oh wow, Itto! I didn’t know you could sing!”

"The one and oni can do anything! Want another one?"

No, you didn't jump into his big beefy arms. Instead, you spent at least two hours complimenting his voice so, of course, he'd put on one show after another. The people of Inazuma now feel pity for themselves.

(Itto forgot why they were there in the first place. Both of you even started dancing in the middle of the street like maniacs, but oh well, it’s endearing.)

Okay, so plan A didn’t exactly work out as expected. But at least Itto got to serenade you like those charming male leads in the romance novels everyone’s been reading, so there’s no way you didn’t find it a little romantic yourself.

“But boss, you’re still not dating.”

“What did I teach you boys about lying?”

Enter Plan B!

"I'm sooo bored," he whines into your ears, as he always does. "I have nothing to do and everything is getting boring....if only there was someone out there who would go to the festival with me....ooooh, but the gang are all sooo busy......"

“Oh! I’ll come with you!”

Mikawa Flower Festival, proudly managed by the great Arataki Itto, is something you never expected to see. No one knows how he did it, but the lively booths with their games and food and music with the heart of the yokai at the center of it all show the dedication and respect Itto poured into it. Everyone appears to be having the time of their lives, and you couldn’t be any prouder.

Sadly, you can’t quite see the dedication he has for you.

“This one wasn’t so easy to set up but,” he crosses his arms across his chest, looking down at the children playing with the balloons floating on a pool of water, “you know me.”

He means he spent at least an hour blowing air into those balloons without the help of anyone because he’s great like that (an hour because he kept blowing them a little too big but you get it).

Plan B: hold your tiny human hand … which he has done several times when he drags you around Inazuma in search of onikabuto beetles. But apparently, people prefer fingers intertwining with each other nowadays because it has a higher chance of making the other person kiss you or something. Probably. What does the gang know?

They know that you’re running around the place, clapping your hands for kids winning a stuffed toy or a piece of candy, and pointing your finger at the nth snack that catches your eye. They know that normally, their boss would be the one acting like a hyperactive child while you follow around to make sure he doesn’t trip on air. They know that watching The Great Arataki Itto trying so so hard to just hold your hand is depressing because wow, when did he become so patient?

“Let’s go there next — wait, what is that?”

As if on cue, the Arataki Gang groans and curses in the background. 

This is just sad.

Somehow, being loud and annoying isn’t enough for you to see his undying (it’s starting to get pathetic) love — but if there’s one thing Itto is good at, it’s onikabuto battles.

“O-Oh…that’s the trick, my sweet (Y/N),” he flashes you a wavering grin right after witnessing his beloved onikabuto get absolutely annihilated by his opponent (a twelve-year-old boy). “You have to pretend you’re all weak and helpless to catch them off guard at the last second.”

Good at losing, that is.

Plan C! Show you his super sweet beetle trainer skills so you can finally jump into his big (beefy) arms and tell him he’s the greatest oni in the world.

(Yes, they haven’t given up on the whole jumping thing.)

“Come on, you can take ‘em, little guy!”

You don’t have the heart to tell him that the beetle you helped select doesn’t really seem like that good of a fighter. It’s not even trying to fight, actually.

“...I think it’s gonna win—”

Alas, the opponent’s beetle flips Itto’s at its back, who screams right in your ear as if it died a horrible death. “No!” he drops to his knees to the beetle struggling on the ground, “my little nimble ninja!”

When the Arataki Gang eagerly asked him later that day if he finally made you jump, Itto could only tilt his head in confusion. Because 1.) he was admittedly blinded by the thought of victory and therefore, forgetting once again the reason for his battles and 2.) he admittedly almost jumped into your arms when you effortlessly won the next battle just to save his honor. 

Who would have seen it coming? About the Arataki Gang having enough of their boss’ silliness and finally ceasing all “Operation: Oni Heart Attack” plans?

Itto thinks nothing would really change, anyway.

Sure, you might still be clueless despite him calling you disgustingly sweet pet names normal friends definitely don’t call each other, or him carrying you on his back while also carrying your bags of groceries when you complained about your feet hurting, or giving you large bouquets of poorly arranged flowers that he and the gang picked from the forest just because he felt like it, or when he—

Woah, he gets what they're all saying now. 

But really, does it matter? He thinks it's cute how devastatingly oblivious you are, and he thinks your puzzled little looks and your amused little giggles every time the Arataki Gang howls whenever you merely brush against his skin make you even more endearing. It does something to his chest, and he's more than content with it.

You're rambling and rambling about this game you learned from the neighborhood kids that Itto doesn't understand a thing about, flailing your arms around as you laugh in apology for hitting him twice in the face. You don’t look sorry enough, but it’s not like he felt it, anyway. But his laughter that could silence all the noise in the world doesn’t come, because why would he want to disturb your own that could rival his? Arataki Itto thinks that all of this is enough. 

He wants to listen, really, he does; he swears he will the next time. But for now, he can only watch your eyes sparkle in delight and your skin glow in the setting sun you're in love with. And all of it is enough. So, does it really matter if you knew? 

But then you stop, turning to look at him when you notice he’s gone awfully quiet. You could almost gasp in horror when you realize that the word quiet definitely isn’t something Arataki Itto is familiar with. So you raise your brow, hands dropping to your sides, nearly placing your palm on his forehead to check if he’s still capable of breathing.

Huh. He looks different, you think. Has he always looked at you this way? It feels a little bit personal — like something you’re forbidden to see. But you can’t look away, not right now, not when he’s unveiling something in front of you. Not when the flashing smile that lit up his face had softened and gradually spread into his features. Not when the eager eyes with the vivid intensity now held a quiet sentiment in them. It's light and gentle — everything Arataki Itto has always been.

“I’m listening,” Itto is mumbling, with his chin resting on his palm, and looking at you in a way you’ve never seen before (like some lovesick fool … Oh my, you’re finally realizing it all).

Has he always looked this beautiful?

And that’s when you start to stutter for the very first time.