Jily oneshots

Georgia Peach

done by elanev91 on fanfiction.net
smutty at the end

Lily Evans was late.

Well, she wasn't late late, but she wasn't early, and at this rate, she might as well be fucking late. She was late and sweating (because it's a million fucking degrees outside even though it's fucking February) and lost (because this campus was stupid and the buildings needed to be marked better for the love of fucking god). She had unfurled a giant map she'd grabbed from the library she'd wandered into accidentally, and was standing in the middle of the giant brick walkway outside trying to find the fucking building she needed (and keep from tearing her hair out from the stress) when someone tapped her shoulder.

She whirled round and her eyes met a tall, spectacled guy with horribly untidy black hair - he was smiling at her (and attractive as hell but she didn't have time for this today). Back home in New York, this shit never ended well, but she figured she might as well try and be polite. Get into the Southern spirit or whatever. She raised an eyebrow, 'Yes?'

He grinned wider at her (how in the fuck is he doing that with his face?!), 'You look like you need help. Can I help you find something?'

His accent was thicker than she'd thought it would be just from looking at him, and his speech was slow, measured, like he was taking his time, letting his mouth form each goddamned syllable instead of rushing through it and letting the sounds run together. Even hearing it made her heart pound, annoyed, in her chest, made her hands tremble with nervous energy. She didn't understand slow, wasn't interested in slow - she was born fast, lived fast, and New York had been more than willing to cater to that part of her. Hell, it had encouraged it.

What the fuck am I doing here again?

She took a deep breath, brushed a quick hand across her brow, swiped her dark red hair forcefully out of her eyes. 'Yeah,' she said, her own accent harder, more forceful after his smooth, rounded sound, 'I need to find the chemistry building.'

'Oh,' he grinned at her, 'Now, why are you headed there, darlin?'

For fuck's sake, does everything need to be a goddamn conversation? 'I have an interview,' she said, and her tone was even more clipped than before as the anxiety started to build in her chest, 'I'm going to be late if I don't get there soon.'

She'd hoped that she was communicating just how fucking urgent this was, just how close she was to complete emotional collapse, but then he smiled at her, another lazy smile that set her teeth on edge, and said, 'Well, I suppose I could help you out if - '

She'd tried, honestly, to be patient, but she just wasn't fucking built for this, not today when she was already at her wits end and her nerves were frayed beyond repair. She burst into speech, interrupted the middle of his sentence, her hands flying, 'I don't have time for some fucking Georgia peach to take eight fucking hours to tell me where I need to go! Can you just fucking point me or something?'

Anyone else probably would have been taken aback, been horribly insulted and shouted at her, or at least given up and walked away. He just waited patiently for her to finish and laughed heartily as she stood there, seething, 'Well now, darlin', that's your problem right there. We're in North Carolina, not Georgia. I reckon that's why you're lost.'

Lily wanted to rip her hair out, 'I know what fucking state I'm in! I just don't know any other ridiculous Southern names so you're a peach, and no,' she held up her hand because he had opened his mouth like he was going to start listing off all the fucking names he could think of, 'I'm not interested in hearing them.'

She kept waiting for him to turn on his heel and just leave her there (she would have done it ages ago), but he just shook his head, chuckled warmly, 'I knew ya'll New Yorkers were angry, but I didn't know ya'll were this angry.'