Chaos and Order
I’m so filled with love right now, I don’t know what to do with it. So here’s a little something I could pour what I feel into. I timed myself for 15 minutes and wrote this, haven’t read it once, haven’t editted, nothing. Fresh first draft here for you.
“Evans,” calls out James more to himself than actually calling her. It makes her think that maybe, he loves saying her name just as she loves saying his.
“Potter?” she responds and the little jolt in her veins as she hears his name is something she can’t miss.
“Just checking to see if you were alive,” he says nonchalantly, although there’s a slight smirk threatening to form on his lips. “You haven’t moved in hours.”
“Very funny,” she scoffs playfully. “Some of us actually work to get work done. Unlike you.”
“I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
And they fell into that silence once again. It was comfortable silence, at least it felt so to her. It was her and him, Lily and James, Evans and Potter, however you named it – amidst swirling smells of parchment, ink, and spilt hibiscus tea. Lily didn’t like these ephemeral silences they had. It was in moments like these that she thought, that maybe, maybe this was what it was like to be in love. Quiet, amidst smells filling your senses, and the silent thumping of two hearts.
She looks at him, stealthily because he shouldn’t be seeing her seeing him. He really shouldn’t for as he teases her, goads her, and asks her questions she’d rather not answer now, really. She decides then, like all those countless times in the Heads Common Room that she can never get tired of looking at him. He is still in his uniform, and why he loved wearing that wretched thing she didn’t know. Though in uniform, the shirt hung on his shoulders loosely its first button undone and the tie loosely hanging around the collar of his shirt as though it had long given up trying to make him look prim and proper.
But that was the thing about James. James Potter was not someone to bother too much about how polished his shoes were, or whether he had buttoned his shirt wrong, or whether he’s worn the same socks on both feet. If anything, he might even be putting effort to be what he is – disorder, and chaos. A beautiful one at that. He always looked like he was in peace with himself, happy to be wearing his skin.
She realises then, today, for the first time. Lily Evans was chaos and order, just like James. But she was chaos in, and order out. He was the very opposite. Maybe that’s what pulled her to him. Maybe that’s what will pull them both together, tie them in place, keep them tangled and caged within each other. He catches her eyes now, and she doesn’t turn away. This time she keeps her gaze on him, his eyes. He grins, pleased. She knows then, she realises a lot of things then. But they’re all too hard to put it down into words because now it’s only just green and hazel, and oh the smell of parchment, ink, and spilt hibiscus tea.