Jily oneshots

It'll Kill Me Every Day

by gxldentrio

They're a curious thing, soulmates are. Not everyone has one. Sirius doesn't, for instance. Remus has several. Peter used to have one, similarly to James, but one day he woke up and the familiar handwriting simply wasn't there anymore.

He supposes he is lucky. After all, some people never even get to see their soulmates. He has, and she's beautiful. Creamy skin and vibrant hair, truly a sight to behold. It's also dangerous, but James has never once run away from danger. It fuels him.

"Well, fuck me," says Sirius from his spot, sprawled across the stained couch backstage. "A deer caught in the fucking headlights."

"Don't be crass, Sirius," chastises Remus, despite the smirk on his face.

"He's giving me no choice! Just look at him–" he says, pointing at the TV screen "–pathetic."

"He is a bit moon-eyed."

"Moon-eyed, infatuated, besotted, call it whatever you like, the git's a dictionary entry for a fucking mess."

"Christ," replies Peter, downing the remains of his gin.

Most people wouldn't notice, but they know the signs, and so, for the three of them it's obvious.

It's an awful thing to witness, really. The way Potter goes all slack-jawed after taking a proper look at the crowd in front of him. The definition of a love-struck fool.

The concert ends, and the first thing James does after getting backstage is order a bottle of Chardonnay.

Sirius can't really say he's surprised. Honestly, it was bound to happen at this point.

James knows that if Sirius knew – and knowing him, Sirius probably does – he'd call him a fucking moron and ring his mum to let her know what a wreck of a son she's raised.

The wine leaves a bitter imprint on his tongue – one of the many consequences of cheap alcohol – but he doesn't care. She was there, he felt it. James can't really explain, but staring at the song lyrics carved into his left wrist, he knows.

It's a right mess. He needs to find her, red hair and green eyes, lighting up the arena like a fucking Christmas tree, except he has no clue where to start. After all, he doesn't even know her name.

"Mate," Sirius says.

"What?"

"She's not Cinderella, and you're not bloody Prince Charming."

Remus snorts. "Might as well be."

"Rubbish mates, you are."

The worst thing, James ponders, is that she'll probably never know what she did to him.

It's been over three months, he's gone on a series of different dates – after all, even teen sensation James Potter needs his fix, if you catch my drift – but none of them compare. Wherever he goes, all he can see is her. She's everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and it's driving him fucking insane.

He'd only seen her for a moment, with her arms looped through her friends' and a smile on her face. Eventually, the crowd had hidden her from his view and she was gone.

His friends think he's lost his mind – which James reckons he probably has – but he doesn't give a single fuck. She's somewhere where he can't find her. He's desperate, and he should probably do something about it, but he doesn't know where to look.

She's ruined him for just about everyone else, and she doesn't even know.

He vows not to stop searching. You're not supposed to give up on your soulmate. And, after all, when his mother explained his seemingly innocent birth mark, she warned him that it wouldn't be easy.