Jily oneshots

After Moon

by lovesickjily

There was something oddly calming about the tenderness of the soft waves of the lake.

The water felt cool against her toes as she skimmed the edges, breaking the otherwise stillness of the gentle motions, and she moved her feet in small spirals, as if she was directing the choreography for the stream's soft, graceful movements.

Her jeans— which she admitted were most definitely not the most appropriate wear for the outdoors in this scorching heat, what with the temperatures being much too hot for spring, a time for flowers to blossom and rejoice at the sun's newly-made appearance after months of the cold fragility of winter— had been rolled up as much as they possibly could before ultimately being able to cut the circulation off from her thighs, and her long-sleeved shirt had been rolled up to her shoulders. Perhaps she should have let loose, should have worn an outfit that revealed more skin, because if the sun had finally shied away from hiding in the clouds, then her skin should have shied away from the constraints of clothing as much as possible as well.

Only, it was far too late for a change of wardrobe now.

She'd been dragged off with her family to spend time together, but between Vernon's horrible attempts at making himself appear more virile and masculine through his arsed attempts at fishing in the lake— a terrible mistake as it was already, having gone on about knowing that he'll most definitely catch the largest tarpon humanity will ever see, his first mistake, really, seeing as they were currently engaging in recreational activities at a freshwater lake— and Petunia's insults towards Lily when she'd tried to correct Vernon, she'd found herself distancing herself from them slowly but surely. He hadn't even been holding the rod correctly, for heaven's sake.

If he'd at any point given her the rod, she was sure to catch at least something, but because of his notions that women were only good in the kitchen and at home sweeping the floors, he hadn't even so much as let go of the rod, as if it was more dear to him than his fiance. Lily had a feeling that this had been the first time he'd ever even acquainted himself with the likes of fishing.

It'd been slightly amusing at first to watch Vernon fish and Petunia clapping him on, and in fact, the first time he'd thrown the rod, the hook had gotten caught in one of his belt loops, but soon, it just got annoying with his persistence to go on, still not yet having realised that there was no chance of him catching a tarpon, not even a chance of him catching anything, really. It didn't stop Petunia from clapping for him.

She didn't at all see what her sister saw in her oaf of a boyfriend, but then again, she didn't really see much in the men that acquainted themselves with her, none of them catching her eye or making her heart flutter as it was described in the books that she entertained her eyes with in her free time. Perhaps she had been born in the wrong time period, or perhaps she was too picky when it came to finding the supposed one, but she couldn't at all see herself settling for anyone less than what she looked for— whatever she was looking for. Why should she be unhappy with someone she didn't love? As lonely as she was— relationship-wise— she'd much rather be alone than with anyone who wasn't her emotional equal.

Respectful men? Sure, she supposed she met enough of them to crowd a room or two, but none had that sparkle in their eye, none had the passion that met one as fiery as her own. She wasn't going to settle down with a man who should have been respectful from the start, because it was like asking for a meal at only a decent restaurant and be served with a meal that was equally decent, for it had been what she expected. She wanted unpredictability, in a good sense, not the one-day-I'll-assault-you-after-coming-off-as-a-good-person unpredictability.

Perhaps her generation had spent so much time dwelling on finding love that it had become commonplace for people to rush into relationships, relationships that they should have known were destined to fall apart from the very beginning, and that the feeling had dwindled in the world because so many had begun falling out of it.