𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒, james potter

31. brains and brawn

January 23, 1976

"SHUT THE FUCK up, dude."

James gasped dramatically. "Did you just call me dude?" he said as if that was the worst thing anyone had ever called him.

Nesrin rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly.

"And now you're hitting me? Wow. Here I was thinking that we were partners in crime."

She let out a chuckle, pushing his shoulders until his back hit the ground. She put her legs on either side of his thighs and leaned down close enough for their noses to brush.

She could hear his breath hitch.

Moving so their lips touched ever so slightly, she smiled and said, "We're not partners. If anything, I'm the brains and you're the brawn."

He scoffed, his tiny breath hitting her face. She could smell the chocolate taffy he had just eaten moments ago.

"Says the girl who's getting tutored by the so-called 'brawns'. Isn't it inappropriate to seduce your tutor?"

She didn't reply. Not in words at least.

Lowering her head, she started planting soft kisses on his jaw, down the column of his throat, across his collarbone. His breaths started coming in soft pants. Mouth tilting into a small smirk, she sunk her teeth into the side of his neck which was followed by her tongue.

He made a sound low in his throat that Nesrin felt from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She didn't get to say or do anything else before, in a movement so quick, he had them flipped over until he was hovering over her.

Before she registered their new position, his mouth was on hers.

She didn't think she would ever be able to get over the fact that she was the only one who got to have this. The only one who got to have James Potter.

Several moments later, when their lips were swollen and their cheeks were flushed, they were sitting up with Nesrin's head resting on James's shoulder and his arm around her.

She curled up closer into his side, eager for his warmth on that cold Winter day. He sighed into her hair, mumbling something that she couldn't decipher.

"What?" she said.

He was quiet for a moment. She turned her head so she could look at him. He was staring at her with unreadable emotion in his hazel eyes.

Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver chain, holding it out to her. She stared at him in confusion.

"Your present from that muggle festival. I promised I'd bring you back something."

Her eyes widened as she stared down at the necklace. A single pendant the color of faded blue hung from the chain—almost like a raindrop. It was beautiful.

She glanced back up at him.

He grinned.

"I told you that you didn't have to get me anything," she told him softly.

"And then said that the present better be good or else you'll murder me."

She scowled, slapping his shoulder with all the strength of an ant. "I definitely did not say that last part."

His smile widened. He gestured for her to turn around, so she twisted her body and moved her hair away from her neck. He placed the necklace around her, clasping it together.

She turned back around and beamed at him, throwing her arms around him and hugging him to her. His soft chuckle reverberated in her ear.

"Thank you," she mumbled into his neck.

It was only a necklace. But it was the first gift she had ever received from anyone.

She was going to cherish it forever.

He pulled away to look at her.

It was almost painful, to be looked at like that. Like even if the clouds broke and fell down, he would rather die than take his eyes off of her.

He brushed her cheek with his thumb, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear before pecking the corner of her mouth.

"You know," James started. "Since we're not partners, and you're clearly the brawns and I'm the brains"—Nesrin rolled her eyes—"we should practice your brawns abilities."

She scoffed. "My 'brawns abilities?'"

Instead of responding, he stood and stretched out his hand toward her to pull her up. When she was standing, he pulled her toward a hidden part of the area they were in near the Quidditch pitch. He got out two brooms and a Quaffle.

Immediately, she held her hand up. "No way. I'm not getting on that."

All James did was grab her hand with his free hand and pull her back to where they were sitting moments before. He set the broom on the ground in front of her and the other in front of him.

She crossed her arms. "I've told you a million times that I don't wanna die on a fucking broom."

He rolled his eyes. "If you're done being dramatic, can you at least try?" She glared at him. He pouted. "For me?"

She was quiet for a second as she looked at his puppy dog eyes. She groaned in defeat, and he raised his fist in victory.

"If I die, my blood is on your hands, Potter."

He let out an amused scoff. "You're funny if you think I'd let you fall, Fadel."

Her heart skipped. She held back a smile as he showed her how to get on the broom.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 !

new cover!! thoughts?