Search Home Read Write Forum Login Register

"All that you build,
All that you break"
-U2 (“Walk On”)

A/N: Before commencing, I feel it is my duty to tell all intense James/Lily shippers that you may find this story somewhat offensive. It does not do any ship bashing, but the light in which I’m interpreting this ship somewhat deviates off the accepted path. That said, should you be willing to read something new, I would love to hear your opinion on this, whatever it may be. If you are a Sirius/Lily shipper, be warned that the fact that I’m not following the traditional “James and Lily get married under perfect circumstances with gorgeous friends surrounding them, who are all paired up, having loved only one another” does not stretch to mean that this is going to be a story where Lily and Sirius end up in love, or even promise that there will be much Sirius/Lily in this.

Now that I’ve finished scaring away the majority of you, those of you who have stuck around, here’s what I’ve got!

The dawn broke the dark sky as Lily shimmied out of the light covers, drenched in sweat. She extracted her legs from that of the man sleeping next to her, and walked towards the window. Throwing aside the heavy shades, she looked out at sleeping London. Her chin rested lightly on her hands, she watched as the sky lit up in an array of colors that had inspired countless artists. Windows were thrown open, and men in business suits carrying black briefcases began to leave their houses, the regular cup of coffee in the other hand. She heard crying and screaming—the newborn next door, presumably; she had seen a tired and harassed looking father reluctantly open the door as she had let herself in—another testament to the city waking.

Her head turned away from the landscape—had she really seen it?—back towards the bed. The black duvet cover was thrown to the ground. It was a hot night, and the white sheets clung loosely to the bottom half of the body in there. He was sleeping on his stomach, revealing a toned back, littered with a scar here and there (“character”, he called them, instead of just getting rid of all the marks with one of the numerous charms at his service), black hair sheltering his face from the light.

She sighed and turned away. What was last night? Was it a mistake, or was it a warning? Or was it simply some negligible night in the grand scheme of things, something that meant absolutely nothing, and was her plea for a last moment of freedom, of carelessness, a last experience of everything he had shown her?

No, it meant something, she knew that. She was very good at pretending, but this pushed the limits of what she could hide from just that step too far… and it made all the difference.

She didn’t know why she had gone there. Presumably because she was very, very drunk. Lily had never understood the concept of a party a few nights before the wedding—why would anyone want to be completely hung-over the next morning? But Sirius had started organising James’s almost the moment he had heard the happy news, and some of Lily’s friends had coerced her into coming out with them this night. It had been pretty lavish, renting out a very fancy hotel room, and paying money on entrance and drinks at all of the clubs they had found themselves in. They had stumbled back into their suite at almost three in the morning, giddy and tired. Lily’s friends had fallen asleep almost immediately, after one last drink to the last night of freedom, which had put them into their comatose state. But sleep would not come so easily to Lily.

“I’m getting married. This is it.” Her thoughts cycled over and over in her head, pounding against the walls of her skull. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but one way or another she found that she felt so constricted and claustrophobic, and she had to get away. Instead, she had found herself Apparating outside his flat.

She had knocked on the door repeatedly, praying over and over that her fiancé hadn’t decided to crash there for the night. When he opened the door she was relieved of that fear. His flat was spacious, but laid out so that from the entrance almost all the rooms were visible, and the couch most so. His hair was tangled and mussed, and his eyes were glazed over.

“Lily? What are you doing here?” His tongue was thick with alcohol and sleep. Wordlessly, she pressed her mouth to his, her body fitting against his bare chest, tentatively at first, but after his stumble back in surprise, he held her so tight she wasn’t sure if she could have stepped away even if she had wanted to.

Blindly they made their way through the kitchen and into his bedroom, her dress seeming to fall away in the process. He fumbled with his belt as his lips traced her jaw line, downwards, downwards, to the base of her neck.

Every touch was electric; just his fingers brushing her bare stomach caused her to squeeze her eyes shut in anticipation, in exhilaration. She dug her face into his shoulder, breathing in the mixture of cologne, smoke and summer. A thick breeze blew into the room, and the light curtains enshrouded them as they were blown from the open window. Ripping the curtains from their hold, they fell onto the bed, the rods and materials crashing down just as they did. Slipping her hands down that sharp curve at his waist and under his drawstring, she looked him in the eyes for the first time that night, his grey eyes as full of need as she imagined hers to be full of haste.

“James,” he said desperately, as he helped her pull off his boxers. Clearly, actions and words were two completely different things.

“Not tonight,” her lips meeting his again to override his hesitation.

He tore his away, and looked her in the eye.

“You don’t want to be with me, Lily. I’m a mess.” His eyes were torn, so full of lust and so full of everything that he consciously revealed, and everything that he hid.

“Not tonight,” she said again, her voice desperate as she tore her lacy black underwear from her body.

Kisses mixed with tears as they found a wavelength that only they could tap into… so different than all the ones they had found before. Waves of pleasure ran down her spine, into her body.

“This is what it means to find freedom,” was the last thought that barely registered in her mind.

“Shit,” she cursed as she looked for her clothes in the mess of curtains, pillows and blankets.

She heard stirring in the bed behind her, and quickly wrapped herself in one of the curtains.

“Lily?” She shut her eyes tight, but fat tears squeezed out from below her lashes regardless.

“I…” she turned around, stopping short, half hoping he wouldn’t remember, half praying that he would.

He winced at the light that now poured openly into the room, the cursed light which only made her nakedness even more obvious. She always felt so comfortable around him, but being so vulnerable when he hid all his vulnerability under a shield, so open when he was so covered, if not physically… it just made her feel so… cheap.

His face was in his hands; apparently he had consumed more alcohol than she. Every other time they had been together he was always the first to rise, had always left before she had even woken, sparing them the awkwardness of facing moments like these.

“Shit,” she heard him curse and stumble out of his bed as tears fell down her cheeks. The white wall in front of her provided a good place to stare. “Shit.” Apparently he remembered last night’s events just as well as she.

“I should go,” she choked out, before he had time to say anything else. Grabbing what clothing she had found, she marched out the room and out of the flat. Shutting the door behind her, she fell back on it, her chest heaving as sobs wracked her body, and she shivered with the effort. Pulling herself together as best she could, she retrieved her wand, and, with a whisper, she fled the London flat of Sirius Black.

I'd like to thank everyone who read and reread this chapter for all their help, and PhoenixStorm for being a great beta :) Thanks!

Track This Story: Feed

Write a Review

out of 10


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!