We Were Bound | james potter

t w e n t y s e v e n

cw: implications of self harm

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always beautiful to me
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Being in love was hard.

It was painful in all the wrong ways and it constantly burned in the form of longing glances and hidden tears. It sounds nice on paper, the idea of loving someone so much that you'd do anything for them, the idea that they would love you the same. But it wasn't like that.

Everyone had the waking fantasy of falling in love, of it being gorgeous and beautiful and unexplainable. No one thinks about the possibility of it being unrequited. No one wants to think of the pain that comes along with it. Love sounds like a dance around each other, one that two people had been practicing separately all of their life until the fateful moment their hands finally touch and they are brought together in the flow of the music. But really it's just longing, it's looking at her beaming face and wanting more, more, more — and never getting it.

It's the guilt of knowing that he's jealous, that he spends so much of his time paying attention to that one ugly emotion that he doesn't have the right to feel. Faeryn is not his, so why does James feel jealous? Not that there is anyone to feel jealous of — not anymore at least.

Or so he thought for a while.

James was tired of missing his chance, of finally building up his uncharacteristic nervousness, and then it being stolen by someone else.

By Regulus, of all people.

Now, James had nothing against the kid, except for the required second-hand hatred that leaked off of Sirius. And yeah, he definitely had his flaws, one being his cowardness of not defying his parents. But James wasn't quite worried about that at the moment.

For the past few weeks, without fail, he would check the map to find both Faeryn and Regulus sitting next to each other up in the astronomy tower. That could mean nothing, they could just be sitting in uncomfortable silence, James wouldn't know.

But she's been getting happier, peppier despite the growing bags under her eyes — from spending countless nights with Regulus, no doubt — and he's caught them slyly glancing at each other in the great hall, short-lived smirks following the interaction.

The logical part of James, which is usually reserved for pranks, and pranks only, understands that they are not together, and will not get together, ever. It's just unreasonable.

The other part of James, the — unfortunately stronger — part of James, longs to ignore his voice of reason and find another thing to complain about. So he could blame his cowardice on Regulus, and not his lack of Gryffindor bravery to confess.

And who is he to argue with himself?

Well, James is James to argue with himself.

Who would James be if he didn't argue with himself?

That's not to say that he was just going to run off to Faeryn and confess all his deepest desires and tell all the reasons he's infatuated with her smile and in love with her eyes.

No, James was going to talk to Regulus.

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It was happening again.

It was happening again but this time there was no reason, nothing to validate her feelings. Last time everyone told her that there were other ways to deal, that — that dying —wasn't the way out.