jily
"I thought..." James swallowed, his throat getting closed, his breath hitching in the cold air. "I thought it was always just me being loud, Padfoot. Me being an idiot, chasing after her, strutting around the corridors hoping she’d finally stop glaring at me. But I know that I don’t have a chance with her, like, ever, so I thought my Amortentia would smell like broom polish, fresh grass, and the thrill of a Cleansweep. Something simple. Something that wasn't a joke."
He ran a bare, trembling hand through his soaked hair, pulling at the messy black strands in sheer frustration.
"But when that steam hit me... it wasn't the pitch," James whispered, his dim eyes wide and full of an unshielded clarity behind his rain-spotted spectacles. "It was my house on New Year's. It was her. And it didn't feel like a teenage stupid crush anymore. It felt like... like she’s stitched straight into my chest, Sirius. Like if anything happens to her, there won't be anything left of me."















