willow───james potter

08 | shockwaves

In spite of himself, James felt a smirk crawl into the corner of his cheek as he sat up to face his best friend. 'Jealous, Pads? This isn't the first time I've had people fighting for my attention.'

'I just want you for your money,' Sirius returned without looking at him, then paused, meeting his eye. 'And maybe your body too.'

He nodded seriously. 'I'll take it.' Then he sighed, aware that a distinct whine was lining his tone. 'I just -'

Sirius groaned audibly, rolling onto his side to face James. 'You're in love with Isla Montgomery - big fucking deal! We all saw it coming. Thought you two were already fucking, to be honest - ow!'

He was cut off abruptly as a pillow collided with his face; James leaned over and grasped the Snitch between his fingers, shining with an aureate shimmer like a newborn star.

'I'm going to go find her,' he announced resolutely, his eyes fixated on the radiant golden orb nestled between his fingers, and without waiting for Sirius' response, grabbed a sweater and left the dormitory.

The lucid surface of the lake mirrored the soft hues of an early November sky; delicate ripples were cast over the water as Isla sat among the fading autumn foliage, far away from the prying eyes of passing Hogwarts students.

'So, Isla, I've been wondering why you've been avoiding me.'

The voice slid over her skin, smooth like honey butter, and she felt warm warm warm all over like she was glistening underwater. And as James sat down in the grass beside her, hazel eyes searching, she had to force her defences not to slip under his gaze.

'Have you now?' she asked carefully.

The tone of his voice filled up everything inside her head, sultry and seductive like red wine. 'Yeah. I figured it was because I made you nervous.'

She sighed, and fixed her gaze on the calm ripples of the lake breaking onto the bank, the faint glow of late autumn sunlight glistening on the surface.

'Hey, Vix,' he said gently. 'What's on your mind?'

'I don't know. Just thinking.'

He turned to survey her with a never-seen-before soft look lingering in his irises, making her pulse skip. 'About what?'

She turned to face him; messy tendrils of black hair fell behind his glasses in a way that was purely boyish: lazy arrogance and perked interest. Midnight incarnate, she thought. A heartbreaker.

She took a deep breath, and began, 'Say that - that in this hypothetical world, this guy kissed this girl last night. What should she do now?'

He nodded, playing along. 'Does this girl like him?'

She gnawed on her bottom lip, determined not to meet his eye. 'She isn't sure yet. She's too afraid to feel anything and too stubborn to admit it.'

'Ah,' James murmured. 'Well, it seems that - hypothetically, of course - this boy likes her too. He likes her enough to give her space to think even though he might be panicking himself.'

Over the years, Isla had mastered her poker face, so that it was impossible to gather hints of emotion just by looking at her. But right now, in front of him, she swore her heart stuttered. Just a little.

She shook her head. 'This boy doesn't panic. He's absolutely made of confidence - it's annoying, really.'

'Oh, yeah?' He laughed, and the sound bounced off her heart like silver bells and glass ornaments. 'Tell me more about him.'

'Well, he ...'

'Tell me this,' he said, voice softly enticing and laced with a distinct lilt of arrogance, 'is he a good kisser?'

Her breath dried in her throat. 'I -'

Without realising it, they'd closed the distance between them; they were close now, so close she could see how his eyes sparkled in the sunlight, bits of honey drying on coloured glass. 'Do you need another reminder?'

This kiss was different; softer, brief, and agonisingly gentle in a way that she never would have expected from James Potter. It tasted golden, like liquid sun rays, burnt parchment and angel dust. With quick breaths, cold panic laced around her wrists as she dropped her head to rest on the curve of his shoulder like falling snow.

'James?'

His lips brushed the top of her head. 'What's wrong?'

Waves of almosts and maybes circled around their heads like golden halos, and if she were to lift her head, they'd be close enough for their lips to brush. Again. 'I don't want to be another one of your girls that you just - just string along like that.'

'Isla -'

She looked up to meet his gaze. He brushed a dark curl out of her eyes, hand lingering behind her ear. 'You know, if it was a bad kiss, you could just say so.'

'No - it wasn't -' Heat seeped into the apples of both her cheeks. 'It was -'

He smiled slightly.

She could feel the cold hardening in shards of ice over her ribcage, forming a barrier around her heart. 'This whole thing was a mistake,' she muttered. 'Let's just forget it, James. Let's just be friends.'

'Isla, wait.' She flinched at the desperate tone underlining his words like a heated current. As if this meant something. 'Are you sure that -'

'James,' she interrupted. 'Just - just stop.'

He dropped his hand, and her breath halted at the misty shimmer over his lash line. A flash of disappointment behind his glasses, then he schooled his features into one of indifference. 'Okay. Fine.'

Isla didn't watch him walk away, her heart still hammering in her throat. Because as of now, some stupid, treacherous part of her heart no longer dedicated itself to the disjointed fragments of her past, but rather to a boy with messy hair and a teasing glint in his eyes.

And if this was what falling in love felt like, the pounding headache was the least of her worries.

***

happy new year beautiful people !! my resolutions are to drink water and have fun. as always, thank you all for reading !!