hereās a thing i wrote on my birthday. read it here too if u like.Ā
Thereās something about the way he says it, something playful and magnetic. Something gentle. Something raw.
āLil, pass me the salt,ā through a mouthful of food.
āLil, you look like a sunflower in that dress,ā when he canāt stop looking for her as she runs down the stairs in a flurry.
āLil, I kind of bloody love you. Just a little bit,ā when sheās curled up on the couch reading while they listen to Elvis.
Or even āHey, Lil, I ever told you about the time me and Sirius were caught painting the prefects bathroom at 2am?ā
Sheās always liked the way it rolls of his tongue, so easily, but something about it always feels like a kick in the gut.
Because heās an idiot, an all-consuming nerd with lanky limbs and hair that will never behave and, would you believe, he cried in awe when she took him to see Star Wars.
He tries to cook her special dinners without magic but makes too many puns and burns the food while laughing at his own jokes. He pokes her in the ribs so sheāll pay attention to him and his belly rumbles with laugher whenever she lays on him and the boys are there. His hands are warm and he buys her flower bouquets that are filled with every flower possible.
āBut, Lil, they all reminded me of you,ā Lil.
Her favourite sound is his hoarse morning voice, when sheās making breakfast and watering the sunflowers on the windowsill. Heāll tumble down the stairs and throw his arms around her awkwardly, whispering morning into her ear. One time he made her knock the sunflowers over in shock.
Heās a dork, a dork that she can feel in her pulse, like heās part of her now, like she never wants anyone else to say morning to her again, like she canāt get rid of him. She doesnāt ever want to.
Heās in love with her, the way sheās in love with him. She leaves kisses at the bottom of the shopping list and always misspells necessarily. She wears stockings with rips in them and once tried to dye a strip of her pink, forgetting how badly it would clash with the rest of it.
He tumbles over his words when he cares a lot and he pushes his hair into his face when heās talking, trips trying to kick Remus in the shins playfully. Stays up until 4am to make sure his friends are okay and wakes up at sunrise to make sure Lily is still sleeping okay.
He knows all the words to yellow submarine and he sings it while drunk, even if his favourite Beatles song is actually sheās so heavy.
And she can feel her cheeks still go warm, sheās nineteen and she should probably be starting to figure life out, oh, but he makes her feel so young and electric, like her teenage years should be. He lets her call him several variations of Jim, whether its jimmy, Jim jams, jammy Jims, or jiminy cricket. Even if he rolls her eyes when Sirius, Remus, Peter or even Marlene walk into their flat mumbling greetings of āOi, Jiminy Cricket,ā Because lily made them watch Disney films one rainy afternoon.
They kind of make each otherās heartbeats rise and slow all at once and itās kind of messy because sometimes she cries about the war in the middle of the night and he has nightmares about Sirius dying and heāll cling to her for support and sheāll let him.
But then, oh then, other times heāll walk down the stairs and her hair is alight in the morning sun as sheās watering the sunflowers, and heās in love.
And sheāll look at him while heās having a snarky conversation with Remus or tackling Sirius or making cookies with Pete and sheāll think thereās a reason I picked you.