Lily rolled her eyes at his usual and expected bouts of cockiness--she figured James would simply never get over that--but when he assumed a serious demeanor, she wasn't quite sure what to do. She had been staring at the floor when he mentioned his 'serious question', and when she looked up at him from under her lashes, she could not help but feel a little apprehensive at his solemn expression.
But then his hazel eyes met her emerald ones, and they were practically glinting with glee. "Just how pretty do you think I am, Evans?"
She wanted to simultaneously laugh out loud and hex the hell out of him right then. "What?" She spluttered, her face that of utter incredulity. "What are you--?" But then her own words came back to her, and she had to look away and purse her lips in annoyance of her traitorous mouth. You really would risk that pretty face for a duel with me?
Well of bloody course he would use the slightest things as ammunition.
She turned back to him and studied his face, trying to assume impassiveness, but for once actually caring about what she really and truly felt about James Potter's bloody appearance. Merlin, the things this bloke made her do. "Fair enough," she muttered, and she found herself both baffled and amused at how she was growing more and more comfortable being around him like this. Her eyes followed his figure as he leaned back the couch. "You extraordinarily resemble the bleeder type of boyfriend, to be honest," she observed. She wanted very much to laugh at her own ridiculousness and at his and Sirius's shameless descriptions of themselves--'chiseled perfection'? Seriously?--but she managed to match his former serious air.
It was true, though. Because whatever rubbish she could manage to put out there, there was no denying the fact that James was indeed ridiculously good-looking. And that, she thought, was the mainly the problem. He was handsome, and everyone knew that--even he knew that himself. He could easily use it to his advantage. He could smile and make a witch do whatever he bid her do. Hell, he could even make the most enthusiastic former member of the Potter-hating club be with him in a castle office alone, when they were both supposed to be doing Head duties, talking about her prattling problems and his aesthetically pleasing (typical bleeder boyfriend) face.
"But because we're friends,--" The reference was never going to end, was it? "--I'm willing to move on and not dwell on that. I suggest we go back to you helping me with my ranting problem." She shifted to her side so that she was facing him, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch and resting her head on her hand. "What do you say?"
prguitarman
dededos
izzy806
ellievsbear
pixelskylines
