He stares at the spot she once was. Tick. Seconds go by. Tick. Minutes. Tick. He thinks he can still feel her warmth, her fire. Tick. The words are still at the edge of his tongue. The words he can't say. The words that will make him shatter. Tick. Eight months. Tick. He is cracking. He can feel it. It's starting to slowly overwhelm him. Tick. He needs to move. He turns. He is walking, jogging, running, sprinting. Trying to hold himself together, trying not to shatter. Crack. Don't think about it. Crack. Run. Crack. Don't look back. Crack. Run. He slows down. He is slowly, ever so slowly, catching his breath again. Encasing his heart again. He knows it will break when she comes. It always breaks when she's around, leaving his vulnerable heart in the open, throbbing in pain. James Potter is still waiting.
She is running. She needs to find him. Where is he? Running, running, running. She is losing control. Snap. She doesn't like it. She needs to get a GRIP. Snap. Pull herself together. Find him. Snap. He is waiting, she knows this. She needs to find him before she makes it any worse. He has already had to wait for her for six years. She is cruel. She needs to find him. Eight months. Snap. That's all they have left. Snap. Eight months. She has no idea what to say. She just needs to be with him, to feel his colour seep into her world again. To finally BREATHE again. She is losing control. She is about to burst. She wants to shed her mask and show him her true heart. The one that she keeps hidden in fear of rejection and pain, and a world of hurt. She doesn't want to be shut out. She will snap, snap, snap if she is. Lily Evans is now searching.
He turns a corner. He feels cold. She is his fire. She is the rock in his life that keeps him steady. She fuels his passion with his own. His world doesn't feel right without her there. He needs her. He feels like a shadow. He needs his sun. He needs...wait. Movement. He saw something. His heart leaps. He knows. He knows it will crack again if it isn't her. But he can't help but hope. Because that is all he really has. Hope. And he has always been a bit of a dreamer. That's why they fit. He's the dreamer, she's the realist. Green. Red. All of sudden his whole vision is clouded with green and red. He sees her stop. Gasping for breath as she looks at him. Him. She's back. But why? Can she see his very being cracking? There she is. She straightens. They stand. Looking at one another. Green clashes with hazel. A shadow and a shell. They stare.
There he is. His eyes. Hazel and cold and dark. He is a shadow. She is a shell. They stare. It feels as though there is a barrier between. As though glass is separating them. They can see each other. But they can't feel each other. They can't hear what the others very being is yelling, screaming, pleading for. They stand. They stare. She needs to say something. Say anything. Now is the time for action. Now is the time to do something. Because she will lose her nerve otherwise. She may not get this chance again. She needs to tell him. The words are on the edge of her tongue. They're stuck. Why are they stuck? She is still a coward. Tell him. Say it. Do it! She opens her mouth. And says it.
His name. She says his name. His first name, not just Potter. James. It sounds so right coming from her. Her eyes are filling with emotion. He can barely keep up as each new emotion is immediately replaced with another. Anger, sadness, grief, confusion, determination, hope, desperation, love...Wait. Love. He sees it. It can't be. Are his eyes playing tricks on him? Please, please, please. Let it be true. James. She said it again. Why did she say it again? The barrier. The glass barrier between them. It's cracking. Just like he was. He needs her to say it. SAY IT. He opens his mouth.
Her name. He says her name. It's as though she is hearing it for the first time. Lily. She steps closer. So does he. The glass. It's cracking, cracking, cracking. She hopes he can see the emotions pouring out of her. She can't turn them off anyway. They are overwhelming her. Consuming her. She puts her hand on the glass. He does too, right on hers. It shatters. Their hands are touching. She sees a spark of hope in his eyes. He always was a dreamer. Never giving up hope. She wishes she was like that. She thinks rationally. He thinks impossibly. She sees the restrictions. He sees the possibilities. She opens her mouth. He opens his mouth.
Her everything. His everything. They say it together. They stare. He can't believe it. His heart soars. The cracks are mending as she repeats herself over and over and over. Click. Her everything. Click. She loves him. Click. He is finally warm again. Click. She really loves him. Click. Finally. Click. Finally. Click. Finally. Click. The pieces of his heart, his soul, his very being are fixing themselves, fitting together. Because of her. His everything. She is healing him.
She is overjoyed. Her emotions are still pouring out of her. But they are not overwhelming anymore. No, they are glorious, psychotic, colourful. Her world is full of colour again. Click. His everything. Click. He repeats it again and again and again. Click. As though he can't stop. As though he is a dying man saying his last words. She is no longer snapping. Click. He loves her. Click. He still loves her. Click. She is being mended. Click. By him. Her everything. He is fixing her.
There they stand. Foreheads pressed together. Hands intertwined. They had finally found each other. Green and hazel. Lily Evans and James Potter. Their hearts bursting with emotions. Their world, full of colour in its very own glorious, psychotic, warm mess. He was cracking. She was snapping. Threatening to shatter. Threatening to burst. He was waiting. She was hiding. Time was running out. But they fixed each other. He was patient. She had finally faced her heart. He was ever present. She was searching. Separately they had longed for it. His everything. Her everything. Together they had grasped it. Their everything.
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