"A leopard never changes its spots."

A James/Lily fic inspired by and written for he above proverb, and prompt "inhale," from the Proverbs Challenge over at the HPFC.

Dedicated to the lovely Nina, known as lame lame and lamer.

Word Count: 781, not including the AN's.

The corridor is deserted, completely silent except for the light scuffling of shoes against the stone floor. At the end of the corridor stands a young man with a shock of inky black hair and a lanky stature. A pair of round glasses are held precariously on the tip of his nose as his hazel orbs begin to disappear under his fluttering eyelids. His grip on the bountiful bouquet of flowers in his hand loosens before the door of the classroom swings open and the noisy chatter of the exiting students yanks him from his sleepy state. Lifting his head from its place on the pillar, James shoves the glasses up the bridge of his nose with little reserve.

Then he sees her. Lily, with her brilliant carmine locks and swaying hips, hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt anxiously. He can't see her eyes with her back turned to him which brings a frown to his lips. With a sharp inhale—and subsequent exhale—of breath, he runs a hand through his hair haphazardly and clutches the colourful bouquet closer to his chest.

Without another second's pause, he strides over to her place near the end of the corridor with newfound confidence. Meanwhile, she continues to nod and murmur to the chatterbox with her—Cleo, if he's not mistaken. With a huff he taps her shoulder.

It is a sigh's time before she turns around slowly, saying, "Look, Justin I—" her words halt completely upon sight of him. If possible, she looks even more exasperated. "Oh, it's you." she mutters ironically.

Cleo slinks away without a sound, winking slyly before disappearing round the corner.

He chuckles half-heartedly, discouraged by the other girl's show. "Don't sound so excited, Evans, you might give yourself away."

She snorts before stopping abruptly, noticing the flowers held in his hand. "Are those flowers?" she inquired pointedly.

"Fantastic deductive reasoning, Evans. Sharp as a tack, really." he remarks disparagingly.

The scowl is playful, and her gaze returns to the flowers easily—as if she can't stop looking at them. She doesn't say anything for a long moment.

James, tired of waiting, clears his throat, pulling her from her reverie quickly.

The scowl returns to her face, though not so playful this time. "I presume those are for one of your groupies?" she scoffs, pulling her lips into a tight line and averting her gaze.

He frowns. "No. Try again." he challenges.

Her gaze snaps to him. He grins smugly, as if knowing he has confused her. "Sirius, then?" she teases, placing a hand behind her back.

"Ha-ha, no," he says flatly the tight smile not going unnoticed by Lily.

The realization blooms across her face in the form of a deep blush. "They're for me?" she asks in disbelief.

"Don't flatter yourself Evans," he scorns, placing a hand behind his back.

Her expression falters considerably, the hand held behind her back quickly falling limp.

"Of course they're for you!" he exclaims, rolling his eyes with a broad grin on his lips.

The smile appears gradually. He extends the flowers towards her, encouraging her to take them. She does so, however apprehensively.

After examining them for a moment, she looked to him and said, "What, no chocolates?"

"Uhh—" he fumbles, this clearly not part of what he liked to call his 'master plan.'

Her gaze softens. "I was kidding. Don't worry about it, they're great." she assures him. He smiles.

"They are a bit, erhm...damaged." he chuckles nervously. "I ran into Moony on my way here—but look, they're all right."

"Hmm." she murmurs quietly. "They are a bit disheveled."

"Heh, heh..." he trails off awkwardly.

Almost out of the blue she murmurs, "I didn't get you anything." she pouts as though this is a very troubling matter.

"Oh." he does the same. "Eh, don't worry about it." he shrugs, beginning to walk off in the way he came, smirking smugly all the while.

She falters in her step before following him. "Wait—I have to repay you. It'd be rude if I didn't. What could I do? That doesn't involve polishing your broom." she adds, scrunching her nose in distaste.

"Well..." he looks to her with a devillish glint in his eyes.

"What?" she asks anxiously.

"Go out with me."

She stares at him for a few seconds, observing his hopeful smile. Then she snorts disbelievingly.

"I should have known. A leopard never changes it's spots, after all." she walks off in exasperation, smiling despite herself.

"So that's a no then?" he calls after her.

In response, she laughs derisively as she turns the corner. He smiles.

Her hand is behind her back.

Carmine— a shade of red. Source: Wikipedia Category:Shades of red

To be honest, when I typed 'shades of red' into my favorite search engine, I thought I was going to get far more interesting results that I had no intention of viewing at the mo. It was just in case you were wondering.

Hope it is all right; I got it in way sooner than I expected I would, and I have never written Lily and James before. I think it's safe to say I did pretty decent for a first go, actually. Though I think I should get extra points for the 'hand behind their back' thing. It just kind of...happened. I think I meant for it to be the 'crossing your fingers behind your back when you're lying' thing without trying to be too obvious about it.

Let me know what you think, yeah? :)

-Kay