Lost at the sea. Helen (Lily Evans) is a widow that faces days of solitude and dispair at the beginning of World War II. When a new pianist (James Potter) comes into town, bringing songs that fill her heart with hope, Helen enters a timeless romance set during war times to find out if one can ever overcome the loss of a true soulmate.
Fanfic movies apart, the posters above where brilliantly gorgeously amazingly made respectively by @the-dream-team and @theresthesnitch for Exit Song and I can't stop staring at them! They are gorgeous!!! They are steamy!!! I keep coming back to look at them as inspiration to finish next chapter (this week, for sure!)
For the first time I'm wishing this was a real movie and it's their fault 💖
Just for reference, here are the quotes from Exit Song about these posters:
Finally the photographer tells them to close their eyes, to better represent as if they are moving to kiss, promising them this is the last pic he is going to take. Lily considers that it’s better this way, finally able to escape the labyrinth that his eyes represent, only to notice that in the absence of her vision, her other senses are heightened. She can feel each one of his fingers buried in her hair, and the soft caress whenever he moves his thumb over her face, probably tired of staying still so long; his perfume is good and involving, though she should be immune to it after all this session; and she can feel once more his soft breath, so close to her that it does feel as if they are about to kiss.
Her lips part, waiting for that kiss that doesn’t come.
“Foreheads touching,” McGonagall tells them, sounding even a little bored. Lily has seen enough movie posters to know this one is a classic.
“I beg your pardon?” James asks, surprised.
“Just lower your head,” she guides him and after a moment’s hesitation, he does.
Their faces are just inches apart; her gaze falls over his lips before she hastily looks back at him. It’s strangely difficult. With them so close, she can see every shade of gold and green in his eyes, and something seems to be calling her, drawing her in.
Lily breathes hard. “Now close your eyes,” she says, and when he does, Lily lets her forehead touch his, closing her eyes as well.
She can feel his soft breath, a touch of mint and the hot chocolate he had been drinking between shoots. It’s nice.