AN: So, it's three in the morning, and I've just finished writing this. It's kind of weird. But I've had the idea in my head for a very long time, and I'm glad to have finally gotten it down. I haven't edited it much, so it'll probably change when I wake up in a few hours but I wanted to get it up right away because otherwise I'd forget. And now I'm rambling because I'm tired.

She was a gypsy soul. There was no denying it. It embodied every single part of every thing she did. She floated about, doing what she pleased, when she wanted. She lived her life with a "try anything twice" attitude. She didn't have a solid group of friends. She had many, in different years and houses, and very few of them were close to her. She was bright, but if something were more interesting at the time, her homework wouldn't get done. The punishments were usually worth it. If she could, she would have spent time in all of the houses. She dated a lot. Rarely did she say "no" when asked. Sometimes it was just a date, others it was slightly more, but it wouldn't last long either way.

James pondered this while sitting on the lawn late at night. The moon was only half full, but it was shining brightly. He took a swig of the wine he had knicked from his parents and smuggled into school at Easter break. The shiny badge on his chest ensured a safe passage.

It wasn't that Lily was restless, exactly. She didn't wander because she was unhappy; it was because she wanted to know if she could be happier. She wanted to experience everything she could. Different friends, different activities. Different boys.

It was part of what made her so intriguing. She was so detached from everything, everyone wanted to be the one she attached to. Had she been emotional about the whole business she might have been considered odd, or a slut. But she wasn't. Because while Lily genuinely liked nearly everyone she had contact with, it was clear that it was a new experience for her, and little else. Groups of friends were frequently revisited, and she was always welcome with open arms. Boys were rarely revisited. Occasionally, she might rekindle an old flame, out of loneliness or curiosity perhaps, but it never lasted as long as the undoubtedly short first interlude.

Lily wasn't exactly hard to figure out, if one put their mind to it. And James had put his mind to it far more than he would ever admit. She was a creature of habit at the core of it. She'd start the year off with a certain group of friends, it was never certain what one, stay with them for a month or two, then slowly but surely find her way into a new one. Boys were roughly the same. Someone would ask her out, and if she were available and not harboring a grudge (Lily rarely harbored grudges), she would say yes. It was always the same. She rarely wavered.

Except with him. It was always different with him.

He pressed the dark bottle to his lips and let the sweet red liquid linger in his mouth before forcing it down his throat.

That was the part he couldn't figure out. He wasn't far off from anyone else in the school, but she acted almost as though he were from another planet. He was aware that he and his mates (well, Sirius) were among the few people that Lily disliked, but disliking someone had never really changed the way she treated them. She was still kind to him, and perhaps that was why, during fifth year, he was possessed to ask her out.

He knew she was available, and even if she didn't particularly care for someone, she usually said yes. But she hadn't. She had harshly and humiliatingly turned him down.

This singular act fascinated him more than anything else in his life. Lily Evans just didn't say no. So why had she said no to him? What was wrong with him that made it not worth the experience? He wanted to know. He needed to know. And so he studied.

He observed her at every opportunity. Who her friends were, how often they changed. Who she dated. Who lasted and who didn't. He tried to find similar traits in the people she spent the most time with. There were few. It haunted him. What drew her to these people? Why wasn't she drawn to him?

He wanted to show her that he was just as good- better even, than all the other people she spent her time with. He was obsessed with it. He spent the entirety of his sixth year at Hogwarts devoted to it. And it earned him nothing.

But he didn't give up. He changed battle strategies. He retreated and observed. There was an advantage this time, because they were forced to work together as Heads. He got to know her up close. He noticed things that he was sure no one else had, like that even though she drifted socially; she was frequently at the same physical locations. Or that she had to have her hair down in order to study. Why she floated about the way she did. Or how absolutely perfect she was.

He was enthralled. There was no way he could have her now. Never. Nobody deserved her, especially not him. So retreated and became her friend. He was okay with it. And then something amazing happened.

"Happy Birthday, Lily" he said cheerfully as she sat down next to him on the sofa. She thanked him, "Are you enjoying it?"

"Substantially more, now that you're here." Was her reply. She smiled and a faint blush crept into her cheeks.

"Well, I'm glad" he smiled back at her, and the two sat for a moment in silence.

"Say, James," he answered her with a look, "I- would you like to go out with me sometime?"

His brow knit together in confusion. "What?"

She blushed a little more. She was certainly striking with a flush in her pale cheeks. "Like, on a date? Maybe?" He could not respond, "You asked me once, and well, I'd hate to miss out on that experience." He still couldn't answer her. "Well, why don't you think on it?"

She got up to leave, but James caught her hand, "I'd love to."

He knew he shouldn't have. He didn't deserve her, and it would never last. It never lasted. He knew she would break his heart. But maybe the pleasure would make the pain worth it.

It lasted longer than most. Two and a half months. Ten glorious, beautiful, perfect weeks. And then she was gone, and he was heartbroken, just like he knew he would be.

And that was why he was now sitting on the lawn overlooking the lake drinking stolen wine and thinking about the girl who tormented him every moment. He was a mess.

He put the bottle down, and cradled his head in his hands. He really needed to stop thinking about her. She was driving him crazy. The moon was rather bright. The reflection made the lake shimmer like Lily's skin…

Fuck it.

He picked the bottle back up and took a drink.

"You're not supposed to drink alone, you know." The voice was soft, sweet, and terribly familiar.

He didn't look up at her. "I'm not going to stop."

"Well then," she sat down beside him, "Share the wealth."

He chuckled despite himself and passed her the bottle. As she pressed the bottle to her lips, he remembered how they had felt beneath his own. Soft and lovely, absolutely lovely. She passed the bottle back to him. The wine didn't taste quite as sweet anymore.

"So James, what brings you out here on this splendid night?"

"I could ask you the same question." He took another drink before passing it back.

"I fancied a walk in the moonlight. Your turn."

He held his hand out expectantly. She looked at him like he was crazy. "You said it was my turn," he said gesturing to the bottle.

"To answer the question," she took a long drink, "I'm keeping this until you do."

"Damn. I really wanted the wine back." She chuckled and took another drink, just to taunt him, "I'm just thinking, I suppose." She passed it back.

"About what?"

The alcohol made him honest, "You."

"Oh." She took the bottle back from him and took a very long drink.

"You broke my heart, you know."

"I do know," it was almost whispered, as though she wanted it to become lost in the night.

"Then why'd you do it?" He turned to look hard at her. She was looking onward.

"Because I had to." She took another drink.

"You had to? What the fuck do you mean you had to?" He wanted desperately for her to look at him. For her to see the hurt and anger that he knew he couldn't hide.

"I don't know." She finally did look at him, and he was surprised to see sadness on her face. Tears were shining in her normally bright green eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck this, Evans." He took his wine back from her, got up and began to walk away.

Without turning to him, she yelled, "I was scared, James."

"Scared of what? Of me? Of me breaking your heart? I wouldn't have dreamed of it. But I guess that's the difference between us, huh?" His voice was scathing, and he hoped that it hurt her.

She turned to face him, "Please come back and sit down, James." Her voice was pleading, and he had never really possessed the ability to deny her.

"What?" he spat, he came back, but did not sit down.

She was cradling her head in her hands. "I miss you, you know."

"That doesn't change anything."

"I know."

"Is that what you called me back for?"

"No," she looked up at him, "Please sit down."

Grudgingly he did as he was told.

"I was scared of myself, I guess." He didn't say anything, "I- It's just that you make me feel… different. And it's lovely and wonderful, and it's scary as shit." She finally looked at him, trying to read his expression. He hoped it didn't tell her anything. They sat in silence for a moment until she continued. "I'm not a slut, you know."

"I know. I never thought you were." He responded.

"I know," Her expression was suddenly overcome with affection for the boy, "I know you didn't, but other people do. And I know that. I knew that when I started dating guys the way I did-"

"A lot of them, you mean." He interrupted.

"Yes." Her eyes narrowed at him, "I knew that when I started dating a lot of guys, that they would think I was a slut. So I made rules for myself."

James snorted, then started laughing.

"What is so funny?" she demanded.

He couldn't control the laughter.

"I'm trying to be serious! If you're not going to listen then I'm leaving."

"I'm sorry. It's just that, everyone thinks you're this great wanderer, who doesn't put store in anything, and you made rules for yourself?" She glared at him. "Must be the alcohol. Right, you made rules for yourself."

"Right. The first one, was never say no, without a good reason." He nodded, "The second one, was to never kiss on a first date."

Snow was falling softly around them. The setting sun turned the sky pink, and it lit the flakes afire. He could feel her cool, soft hand in his, and thought that that was what they were made for, holding each other.

He looked down at her; she was absolutely glowing. Her smile light up her face, and everywhere she went, like nothing he had seen before. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling. He grinned at her.

"Have you had a good day?" He asked her. He prayed the answer was yes. He had enjoyed the day immensely, wandering around Hogsmeade, talking, laughing, and even now, waiting patiently for a carriage to take them back, he was quite sure he hadn't stopped smiling once. Come to think about, he was sure the smile had never left her face either.

"Today," she sighed, "has been," she thought for the right word, "perfect."

If it was possible, both of their smiles grew. A carriage pulled up, and he gently helped her into it. As the moved forward, Lily rested her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her and looked at her. He couldn't stand it anymore. He tilted her chin up with a finger, and leaned down to gingerly press his lips to hers.

He thought he might die of happiness.

"And I didn't. Ever. Occasionally on the second date, but for the most part, they waited even longer than that." James didn't know how that was possible. It had nearly killed him waiting until the end of their first date. "It was okay with them, because they knew it. Everyone knew it." He hadn't known it. "Because I told them." She hadn't said a word.

The wine bottle sat forgotten in the grass. It was too empty to spill anything.

"And the third rule," She took a deep breath, James was on edge, "was never, under any circumstance, sleep with a guy."

He kissed her softly in the orange light of the fireplace. As he drew back, he took in her appearance. She was especially beautiful in this light, her hair shining, her eyes dancing, her skin sparkling. He reached out to touch her soft face. He was rewarded with a sweet smile.

"You're amazing, you are," she whispered, her green eyes fixed on his hazel ones.

"It's what they tell me," they both chuckled.

"And modest, too. I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

"And I'm the luckiest man," he leaned in closer to her, his nose against her cheek and his lips leaving feather light against her jaw. "You are so beautiful." He could feel her smile, and kissed her again.

"It's late," she said, "We should probably go to bed."

"Since when do you care about time?" He was still close, their faces nearly touching.

"Since you have a Quidditch match tomorrow. I won't stand for losing because our star player was up all night snogging. Even if it was with me."

He chuckled and pulled back from her, "Solid reasoning, dear."

"I thought so, now off to bed," she playfully pushed his chest.

He grabbed her hand, and looked directly into her eyes. "Come with me?" he asked, though he knew it was stupid. It was a question borne from the intoxication of the night: the heat from the fire, the light reflecting off of her, her sweet kisses. He didn't stand a chance.

She hesitated, her eyes blinked rapidly. "Oh-okay."

He sat for a moment in astonishment, "Really?"

"Really," she nodded nervously.

He stood from the sofa where they had been sitting and reached out for her hand, helping her to her feet. When she was standing, he leaned in to kiss her again: deep and passionate, both hands cupping her face. An act of gratitude, a question. And she kissed back, just the same. A reassurance.

They broke apart, and James whispered, "Are you sure?" Lily nodded. He then scooped her into his arms, an arm beneath her knees, and one supporting her back.

"How romantic," she teased.

"Only the best for you, my dear."

James stayed quiet. They had made love that night, quietly and awkwardly and so, so wonderfully in his four-poster bed. He took a deep breath, reached for the bottle on the grass and swiftly finished it.

"Wa- wa- was," he broke off, "Was it-" He looked at her. She nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you ask?"

"I just thought-"

She interrupted him, "That because I dated so many others, I must have fucked at least some of them, right?"

"That you would have told me that it was a big deal for you. I never assumed that you had or hadn't until after."

"And then…" she lead him.

"I thought one or two, maybe. I told you, Lily, I never thought you were a slag." They were both quiet for a moment. "I feel like a prick."

"You're not, though," she offered him half a smile.

"Thank you," he made to rise again, Lily's voice stopped him.

"There's one more rule."

"Merlin," he sat down, "All right, what's the last one?"

"Don't fall in love."

She sat next to him; their thighs flush against each other, but almost nothing else touching. They didn't need it. They sat that way, on the sofa in the common room for hours, talking and laughing with his friends (who had, as of late also become her friends). She didn't look exceptionally beautiful. Her hair was up, she wore no makeup, her clothes were old and worn. But she was radiant, the way she always was. Laughing and teasing the people he loved most, well, James couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

One by one, the others retreated from the common room, to study or sleep, and finally, they were left alone. As Sirius finally made his way to the dormitory, Lily fell back into James' arms, and leaned her head against his shoulder. She sighed contentedly.

"Lily," he looked down at her, and brushed an escaped piece of hair from her eyes.

"Yes?" she responded, blinking as his hand moved across her face.

"I-" he took a deep breath, "I love you."

She smiled automatically, and then stiffened. James could feel her muscles contract. She held her smile, and her breath for a moment, before replying, "I love you, too," and moving in to kiss him on the lips. They smiled, as they broke apart, though James detected a slight shift in her countenance.

She yawned, and James, recognizing the change, asked, "Tired?"

"Exhausted," she replied. She glanced at her watch, "And no wonder, it's 12:01."

"Is it now?" He grabbed her wrist to see for himself.

"Happy birthday, James."

"Thank you, love," he grinned, and she smiled back, "but I do think it's time you head to bed."

"I think you're right," they rose from the sofa together, and James walked her to the girls' staircase. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him; slow and lingering, as if it might be the last time.

And as luck would have it, it was.

"That was it," Lily continued to explain, "just those four simple rules. And I was upfront about them with every boy I dated, until I got to you."

James sat in another stunned silence, wishing he had brought another bottle of wine. "And I broke every one of them."

"No," Lily looked at him, "I did." He looked confused. "I never told you about them. I was the one who told you no, I let you kiss me, I, very willingly, slept with you, and I-" she choked, tears which had been glistening in her eyes were now falling freely down her cheeks, "I fell head over heels in love with you."

"And you thought a good way to show it would be to ditch me on my birthday?" he spat.

"No!"

"Do you think this is funny, Lily? Did you think it was fun to play with my feelings and then break my heart into a million tiny pieces? I bet you had a good laugh afterward. And I'm sure you're having a grand time now, feeding me all this bullshit about love, and rules. I'll bet you'll have a grand old laugh as soon as I leave-" he made to rise again, but Lily grabbed his hand. It took every last ounce of effort he had not to push her away.

"No! No, James, I didn't, I wouldn't, I-"

"Then what, Lily? What could possibly make you leave someone you loved? You just don't do that, so don't tell me that you did!"

"I do love you, James," she was standing now, still grasping his hand, and pleading into his eyes.

"Stop! Stop saying that!" He violently pulled his hands away from her.

"James, I've been trying to explain all night. Please, just calm down," he turned and pushed a hand though his hair, breathing deeply. "I made those rules for myself, to protect myself, and I had never broken a single one. Not until you came along. And you did, and the rules went flying out the window, and I didn't even care. I didn't even remember them, and then, I realized how in love I was, and it all just happened so fast, James, I was scared! I cared so much about you, and so little about everything else-"

He interrupted her, "I was scared too."

"What?"

"You think that you were the only one feeling all those things? I felt them too, Lily. I was just as scared as you were."

"I was. I was so scared of losing you. Terrified, and you know what made it worse? I knew you were going to break my heart. I knew that you would. Everyone told me not to bother, because it wouldn't last long, but I didn't listen to them. I thought maybe I could be different. Probably not, but I figured it was worth a shot. And I made it so close, didn't I?"

"You are different," she spoke quietly.

"Obviously not different enough."

They stood, in the bright light of the moon, not looking at each other, but hoping the other would speak.

"I'm sorry," Lily finally broke the silence.

"You've said that already."

"I know. What else is there to say?"

"I don't know," he shrugged.

She took a step toward him, "James, I regret what I did every day. I know that I was stupid, and a coward, but- but I think I've found my courage."

"You've always had courage."

"Not the kind I needed. Not until now," she swallowed, and looked directly into his eyes, "I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness, and that even asking for it is wrong, but if you could, if you could forgive me, and trust me, and love me again, I swear, I would love you with all I have. The way you deserve. Fearlessly."

He was quiet for so long, he thought Lily might leave. "I could never say no to you."

"That's not why I want you to say yes."

"And I never stopped loving you. Not one second since the first time I asked you out," She smiled, "So I don't think I really have a choice here."

"You do," she said frantically, "You can say no if you want to. I deserve it."

"What's that you always say? 'Try everything twice?'" She nodded. He took a breath, "Are you going to leave me again?" it was so pathetic that could hardly believe he'd said it.

"I'm not planning on it," she gave a half smile.

"And you're not just fucking with me?"

"I'm not."

He took a step toward her, "I love you," he placed a hand on her cheek, and stared deep into her emerald eyes.

"I love you, too," she responded, unwavering.

And there, in the bright light of the moon, on the lawn overlooking the lake, drunk on stolen wine and cool spring air, he kissed the girl who tormented him every moment. He kissed her and he held her, and he swore that he would never let her go.

AN: Something about reviewing... Yeah, I'm tired.