give her love » james potter

54

Everything always comes back to dinners at the beach house.

Aunt Sally is taking out the dinner rolls while James and Uncle Winston are fishing like always. I'm pretty sure James has started to enjoy it because on the way here he kept talking about catching artctic char until I had to mute him out because having two fish lovers is worse than one.

"It's your birthday soon," I mention, trying to sound casual. 

She frowns. "Angelina," she quietly warns, stopping the conversation. Then she goes over to the wine cabinet and grabs a bottle. "You don't see me mentioning the fact you and James have been avoiding any physical contact."

My jaw drops.

"Your love language is words of affirmation." It's not a question, rather a statement as she hands me a glass of wine. "What's his?"

I bring the glass up to my mouth, thinking for a moment. "Physical touch," I say, "but I think acts of service is a close second."

She nods and mumbles how hers is acts of service and that Uncle Winston's is quality time. Aunt Sally thinks it's really interesting because finding out someone's language for her is like getting the key to their soul.

Then, we get to discussing Italy and the small trip. I tell everything but leave out the night at the bar. Orange farms. Fleamount. Peter and I trying to convince each other we really can't take all twelve farm cats home. How I have a nice tan. Then my throat goes tight and I look away, not wanting to go so into it that I hit the truth.

What is the truth?

I don't know because it's not just one little thing. It's a milloin things stacked up against me like some game of jenga that's holding on because of some little block that might give out any second.

"I might join the Order."

James looks away from the screen. "What?"

"We'd get to spend more time together," I shrug, playing with last few peices of popcorn in the bowl. "It'd be good because I'd be learning a lot helping you guys out, it's like doing my clinicals two years early. Also, I feel as if I should care more about? Like, Merlin, those guys . . ." the words don't make it out my throat, I can't say it.

"No."

I turn to him and frown. "What?"

He pops the last peice in his mouth. "You're not joinig," he says matter-of-factly. "You'd hate it. It's not something you'd enjoy at all."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you, Angelina," he says. "Most of the time, I feel like I know you better than I know myself. So, I can say with confidence, that this isn't like you. You wouldn't do something like this."

I let out a sigh, then pull the blanket closer towards me. "Well, I feel like it'd be good for us."

We're watching Aristocats on the T.V and it was one of my favourites when I was little. So, I thought it'd be nice to show James a movie that had meant a lot to me when I was younger. It'd been going decent until I was stupid and this thing because I don't think I've ever loved someone this much.

He puts his arm around me. "The last thing I ever want you to do is things you don't want to."

"Yeah," I whisper, training my eyes on the cats. "Do you get what I'm trying to say?"

"I'm starting to."

"Okay . . . well, I'll probably be going to my old house tomorrow."

"Do you want me to come?"