fundamentals of love ; james sirius potter

15. i miss you like a little kid

"I'm not a groupie."

The security guy almost rolls his eyes, standing a little closer to the door this time. He's bald with black sunglasses, what a fucking cliche. Even after many attempts at explaining that I'm not some hormonal James Potter groupie, he still doesn't believe me. Even when I explained I was his girlfriend, he laughed in my face.

He glances over his shoulder as footsteps are heard. "They're coming out now, we'll find out soon enough."

So, the door swings open and I'm pushed back into the crowd of fans. The players file out, with their bags and laughter. Everyone's either silent or chatting with a teammate, but I could care less about the team. The only person I'm looking for is . . .

James walks out last, all alone.

I instantly start pushing my way through the crowd, until I can into his line of sight. When he looks up and sees me, a smile lights up his face and he's breaking away from the path towards me. He's got his usual post-shower smell, and I feel mint close up on me as he comes close.

"Never coming here again," I whisper, as he leans down to give me a quick kiss so all the eyes are on us. "It's like we're animals at a zoo."

He smiles. "We're penguins aren't we?"

"Good one."

"What?"

"My nonna calls papa her penguin," I mumble, as we start to walk. "Penguins mate for life, she says they're the epitome of love."

He raises his brow. "You wanna be my penguin, Peirce," he asks, playfully.

"We'll have to see how the next few days go."

Then there are shutters of cameras and a few yells. 

James raises his hands in a wave before we run away, the more time that goes on the more private we're allowed to become, our relationship has been established, all we have to do now is play the part.

I've never met the guy my mum's marrying.

The last boyfriend of her's I'd ever met was Ryan and I absolutely hated him, the summer I'd spent with the two had traumatized me enough to never want to spend another moment with her and the endless line of terrible men that followed her.

But, now it was all different, I'd been told. Mum had moved to some nice small town where everyone knows each other. Been clean for nearly five years. Had a daughter who looked just like me when I was younger. Gotten a job at a bank leaving all her magic behind to start over with some muggle husband.

David Fitzgerald, from my light online stalking, owns a veterinary clinic in the town. He has glasses and a perfect smile, specializes in farm animals but does a bit of everything. He's insanely smart and enjoys "camping, skiing, mountain climbing, and anything else that lets him be outside" according to his clinic website. He's absolutely perfect, I even manage to find his political opinions and I can't even scoff at the fact he's a Tory because he's such a middle-aged male liberal.

This guy's far too perfect so, in my head, I decided that he must have terrible taste in music. He probably only listens to John Mayer and Luke Bryan or is snotty and thinks classical music is good.

I'm so close to making him seem like he's less perfect when I stumble onto his Spotify account.

Bruce Springsteen. Hozier. Kenny Rogers. Oh merlin, he even has a playlist filled with Folk music for when he's hiking that's filled with Bob Dylan and Neil Young.

"Ellie if you walk at that pace it'll take us a million years to get to the inn."

I look up from my phone, my heart about to burst. We've apparated into the town, our bags are already at the inn so now all we have to do is get there ourselves. The town is indeed extremely small and cozy, picture Star's Hallow. Everything's green and there are flowers everywhere, the mayor must be big on greenery.