James Potter had always been confident. Charismatic. The kind of boy who waltzed through life with an easy smile and an effortless charm, who never second-guessed himself, who believed wholeheartedly that things would always work out in the end. But right now, as he struggled to keep his very drunk girlfriend from planting her lips on his, James Potter was not confident. He was flustered."Y/N, love, you're drunk," he reminded her, gently nudging her back onto the bed as she sat up and attempted—again—to tug him down toward her."I know," she said dramatically, her words slurring just a little as she flopped back against the pillows. "But I'm your drunk. That means you have to kiss me."James sighed, running a hand through his already-messy hair. It was endearing, truly, how persistent she was. It was also incredibly difficult to resist. Because of course he wanted to kiss her. He'd wanted to for months. He'd dreamed of it, imagined it a thousand times over. But he didn't want their first kiss to be like this."Y/N, sweetheart, I don't want you to wake up in the morning and regret it," he murmured, sitting beside her on the bed. "I don't want it to be something you don't remember properly.""I'd never regret kissing you," she declared, pushing herself up on her elbows.James chuckled, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face. "Still. I'd rather wait until you can actually remember it, yeah?"Y/N frowned, pouting up at him. Then, suddenly, her eyes welled up with tears.James panicked. "Oh, no. No, no, don't cry, love—""You—you don't wanna stay with me," she hiccupped, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. "That's what it is. You—you don't want to be here."James felt his heart clench. "What? Of course, I do. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable, that's all. I thought you'd want to sleep, and I—""No," she sniffled, scooting over and making grabby hands at him. "Stay. Please."And, well—what was he supposed to do? Say no? Not a chance.James sighed, but he was smiling as he kicked off his shoes and slid onto the bed beside her, letting her snuggle into his chest. She was warm, radiating heat from both the alcohol and the lingering excitement from the party. He tucked his arms around her, rubbing slow circles into her back as she relaxed against him."Mmm," she hummed, nuzzling into his shirt. "Love you."James froze.But Y/N, in all her drunken obliviousness, didn't notice. She simply nestled closer, her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt.He opened his mouth, then shut it again. She didn't mean it like that, he told himself. She was just drunk. People said things when they were drunk that they didn't always mean.But then—"You're the best boyfriend in the world," Y/N mumbled. "You know that?"James swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "...Yeah?""Mm-hmm," she confirmed, sleepily tracing patterns on his chest. "I mean, you're stupid, obviously. Because you won't kiss me. But you're still the best."James let out a breathless laugh. "Oh, yeah?""Yeah," she sighed, shifting slightly. "You're so nice. And smart. And funny. And—and your hair is so soft. Did you know that? It's so soft."James bit his lip, grinning despite himself. "That so?""Yes," she said solemnly. Then, with a dramatic sigh: "I just love you."His breath hitched.She was still talking, oblivious to his racing heart."You always take care of me," she murmured. "Even when I'm being annoying.""You're never annoying," James said automatically."Yes, I am," she argued. "I talk so much. Like, so much. And you never tell me to shut up. You listen. And you're always nice to me. Even when I'm an idiot. And you always make me laugh. And—oh! You're so pretty."James let out a startled chuckle. "Pretty, huh?""Yes," she confirmed, her voice heavy with sleep. "Like, the prettiest boy I've ever seen. And I get to have you. Me."James exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing over her back. "You do," he murmured.There was a long pause.Then, softly:"James?""Yeah, love?""You know what the worst part is?"James frowned. "What?""I can't tell my boyfriend."James blinked. "Er—""Like, I love him so much, but I can't tell him, because I'm scared," she continued, her voice muffled against his chest. "Like, what if he doesn't feel the same? What if I say it, and he doesn't say it back, and then everything is ruined?"James sucked in a sharp breath.She was talking about him. She was talking about him, and she didn't even realize it.His heart was pounding."Sweetheart," he whispered, "he does feel the same."Y/N sighed. "But I don't know that."James closed his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "You do," he promised. "He loves you. So much."Y/N hummed, half-asleep. "Good," she mumbled. "I love him too."James swallowed around the lump in his throat, hugging her just a little tighter. "I know."She didn't say anything else after that, her breathing evening out as sleep finally overtook her.James stayed awake a little while longer, his mind still spinning.Tomorrow, she wouldn't remember this.And maybe that was okay.Because when she finally told him—really told him—he wanted it to be when she was fully there, fully conscious, fully aware of every word she said.He wanted it to be something they remembered. Together.So, for now, he just held her close, feeling her heartbeat against his.Tomorrow, she would wake up with a hangover.Tomorrow, she would probably be embarrassed.Tomorrow, she would pretend she didn't remember what she said.And James?James would pretend too.For now.
