the Horcrux Thief, james potter

xiii. unexpected conversations

They chased each other across the living room, laughing and giggling as pillows started exploding into feathers that fell everywhere. And then Amaya started making him hit himself with his own pillow with her incredible magic and laughed endlessly as she distracted him enough to hit him in the face again.

James let go of his pillow and grabbed onto hers as she went to hit him again, and grinned when she froze, like a deer caught in the headlights, before diving for her legs and laughing when she squealed as he threw her over his shoulder like a rag doll.

"Potter!" she screamed as he started spinning around, his hands splayed on the soft skin of her thighs, keeping her in place, even as her feet kicked the air. "James! Put me down!"

"Yes, ma'am!" he said before throwing her into the cushions of the couch, making her yelp.

And then he was hovering over her, tickling her sides and making her squirm beneath him with barely restrained laughter as she tried to tickle him back and found out he wasn't ticklish at all.

"Alright! You win!" she said in a gasp, making him grin down at her and stop his tickling attack on her, holding himself up with his hands on either side of her head. Both of them panting.

"I'm sorry. I didn't quite hear that," James said, with a shit-eating grin, straightening his glasses, and Amaya scowled.

"I'm not saying it again—"

"I dare you to."

Her eyes narrowed at him, her breathing heavy as she lay beneath him and that's when James realized just how they were laying on the couch. He didn't pull away though, she hadn't said anything, and so he figured it was fine, they were barely touching. Instead, he reached for her hair and tugged a feather out of it.

Amaya finally let out a frustrated breath. "Fine. You won. Happy?"

"Very much so," he said with a grin, "I might have you write it down. James Potter is a winner and Amaya Santoro is a sore loser. I might frame it too, hang it in your room—"

"Shut up, you idiot," she said with a giggle and James smiled. "Ninny was right, you are a troublemaker."

"I'm a marauder ."

She snorted, and, as he had, she reached for his hair, and he felt her fingers raking over it as she took the feathers from his hair. "You're an idiot."

"According to Ninny, I'm pretty smart."

"Ninny adores you, she's biased."

He shrugged with a laugh and Amaya rolled her eyes, before meeting his own and he saw the moment realization dawned on her.

Her breathing, which had evened out, got heavy again, and her eyes fell to his lips, before back at him; the hand that was still on his hair, slid down to his jaw, her fingers brushing softly against his skin before she took it away completely.

It was as if she'd realized how close they were and she still didn't make a move to get out of the situation. James understood, he didn't want to pull away either, his eyes falling to her lips, lips that looked so soft and kissable his fists tightened onto the couch and he forced himself to look back into her eyes, dark eyes that made him wanna do things he shouldn't want.

"Ninny also adores you," he pointed out, his voice coming out raspy, "she thinks you can do no wrong."

Her smile faltered slightly and something flashed in her eyes but it was gone before he could figure out what it was. "She's right. I'm marvelous."

There was a pause. One where they just stared at each other, as if daring the other to move, and at last he did, but he didn't move closer, because he couldn't do that to her—complicate things. Amaya was a guest in his house, he couldn't take advantage of a weak moment between them and then make her uncomfortable if—well there were no ifs.