August [j.p]

001- Lost in the memory

But I can see us
Lost in the memory
August slipped away into a moment in time
-
august

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"Fuck, James"

James Potter felt the delicate fingers of August Williams finding grip in his knotted hair and pulling as her body shuttered underneath his. With a groan of satisfaction and mumbled profanities the boy felt himself come undone and it took all of his strength to not fall down and crush the blonde beneath him.

Breathing heavily he rolled over and stared up at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom, the glow-in-the-dark stars still stuck to the white ceiling.

"You're awfully out of breath" August Williams was now staring down at him, resting on her elbows. Her unruly, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and little drops of sweat gathering at her collarbone.

"Do all French girls fuck this good or is that just a talent you posses."

A laugh escaped her lips as she traced the shape of his jaw and the curve of his lips.

"I'll have to apologize to my mother for saying that Britain would be uneventful and boring."

James hummed in response, his eyes starting to droop as he wrapped her in his arms for the last night they would spend together in a long time.

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The last thing James Potter expected when his best friend and brother, Sirius Black announced he would be spending their break with his now boyfriend of 7 months, Remus Lupin, was to cross paths with an impulsive and head-in-the-clouds blonde.

Late March 1977, James Potter had finished his first term of 7th year and had just turned 17. The day after the big celebration a bleary-eyed James wished a hungover Sirius, grumpy Remus and frazzled Peter goodbye only to find the once-empty house next door occupied.

With a shake of his head and a killer headache, James Potter made it back inside determined to sleep off the nausea and pounding headache. He did tend to imagine things when he was hungover and he couldn't remember where he left his glasses. He made a note to find them later, but first: sleep.

Later, the sun was starting to make it's way down the sky. Oranges and Blues blending together to create soft hues, when James Potter was woken up by friendly chatter in his living room.

Did Sirius and Remus take pity on him and come back?

With newfound energy, the boy made his way downstairs only to see two beautiful women in his home.

What the fuck

He must still have some firewhiskey in his system.

"James, lovie, these are our new neighbors. August and Odille Williams." Euphemia Potter said, eyeing her son's disheveled state.

"Hullo" the boy sprang forward enthusiastically to greet the two blondes. It looked as if one was the carbon copy of another.

"Hello, I'm August" the youngest girl held her hand out expectantly.

"Nice to meet you August, I'm James."

Their palms met and all James Potter could think of was that his  name, that seemed so common and unordinary, sounded everything but ordinary in her English tinted with French accent.

August's mother, Odille, had a tendency to be harsh and controlling. Everything about Odille Williams was neat and organized, from the hair braided around her head to her polished to perfection shoes.
The same could not be said for her daughter. Where Odille Williams seemed to have everything neatly wrapped in a box with a ribbon on top, August Williams was a mess of different patterned wrapping paper and an extravagant amount of ribbons. Everything about the girl radiated self-confidence. If life was a window ledge, August would step off of it knowing that she could fly all along.

Nothing about her was timid or apologetic. It was either all or nothing.
And James Potter wasn't sure if he was ready for the chaos she brought along with her.

His days consisted of August stealing his toast, August demanding to explore every nook and cranny of Godric's Hollow. August sneaking into his room at night via the roof and spending hours talking about nothing, telling her all about the Marauders, Hogwarts and everything that was James Potter, yet for some reason he failed to bring up Lily Evans even once. August demanding he take her to muggle London to dance, one minute James Potter was falling over his feet, the next they were falling into bed. A tangle of sheets and clothes.

And so he spent his Easter break exploring her skin like she explored Godric's hollow in her first few weeks. Every freckle and every scar he could now recall off the top of his head. But he could never quite memorize her eyes, a shade of brown that sometimes looked like gold.

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"I better get home, you have a big day tomorrow" she whispered.

With one last lingering kiss, that James wished would escalate into more even though he wasn't sure he could even move anymore, August was out of his window along with his Quidditch jersey.

A cruel reminder that tomorrow he would be off on the Hogwarts express and she would return to Beauxbâtons.

Just as he was about to make his way to the bathroom a head of blonde curls popped back into the window.
"You'll write to me, won't you?" She asked, but knowing August it wasn't particularly a request.

" 'Course I will." James smiled gently at the girl.