So In Like

.:James:.

My hands shake as I run one of them through my thick, jet-black hair, ruffling it. I watch Lily as her tongue pokes out of the side of her mouth and eyebrows scrunch in concentration as her quill moves meticulously across the parchment in front of her. Not that I'm a stalker or anything, but I notice things about her. Like how if she's nervous, she wrings her hands together.

Or how she absentmindedly chews on her fingernails when she stares off to space.

Or how she's always singing or humming to herself whenever she's not in class.

Or how her smile is so wide it can light up all of England when she conquers an impossible Transfiguration spell.

Or how she's as graceful as a doe at times, but at others, she's about as graceful as a drunken Hagrid riding a Hippogriff with a sledgehammer in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.

Yeah, don't ask me how I come up with these things.

But my favorite thing about her, easily, is how she flushes so easily.

I would say blushes, but the correct term is flushes.

Because I don't think people blush when they get mad.

I know, I know. It's not right of me to make her mad just to see her flush. She's just so beautiful that I can't help it.

Padfoot has been rambling on about something that happened today in Transfiguration to a few fifth year girls that I have chose to tune out, but I start to listen to him.

"-and finally McGonagall blows her casket, and-"

And that's it. I've heard this story about a thousand times.

No. Scratch that.

A million times.

So now back to my Lily staring.

We had gotten slightly closer this past year, us being Heads together and all. I'd like to actually think that we're friends-no-best friends. Well, as best of friends Lily and I could get. As in, we talk to each other about our problems, joke around with each other, flirt with each other, and are each other's shoulder to cry on when the other's heart-broken.

I decide to go over to talk to her. About what, I have no clue. But I know I want to talk to her.

Talk to my best friend.

I just wish that we were a little more than best friends.

See, that's the thing. I wantto be more than friends, I just don't know if she does. And I certainly don't want to be rejected if she doesn't. That would break my heart even further, and this time, I don't know if a Repairo charm would fix it.

.:Lily:.

I can feel his penetrating gaze on me as I finish up my Potions Essay. I'm used to this, of course. He's been staring at me ever since First Year, for Heaven's sake! But now, it feels… different.

I mean, it doesn't feel different. It is different.

Because I kind of like it.

I kind of like the way he always stares at me.

And I kind of like the way that he claims he's in love with me.

And I kind of like the way he's so protective of me.

And I kind of like the way he ruffles his jet-black hair, giving it a bed head look.

And I kind of like the way he taps when he's nervous.