James Potter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nonmetus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_logs2012-08-03 09:17 pm
nonmetus) wrote in mayfield_logs2012-08-03 09:17 pm
Oh once upon a midnight dream
Who: James Potter and Lily Evans
What: James finally got Lily to agree to a date with him!
When Friday evening
Where: the Malt Shop
Warnings: fluff and awkward
James tugs on his ascot, glancing around the shop. They'd said four, hadn't they? Granted, he got here a bit early. Well, a lot early. At about 3:27 he'd wandered in, a little lost, a lot nervous, and perhaps a smidgen scared too. As he got dressed (with Sirius' help of course, thus the bright red ascot around his throat and the tapered coat that is far too fancy for the venue, but it's not like he knows any better), he'd remembered that this is Lily Evans. Lily. Ruddy. Evans. The girl he'd been half in love with since he was thirteen, head over heels for since he was fifteen, and just about resigned to his fate of never loving another since he turned seventeen.
He's on his second malt already, cursing these prudish muggles and their drinking age saying that no, he can't add alcohol to it, when it finally turns four. His heart speeds up tenfold as the clock on the wall strikes the hour, his hand gripping his glass far too hard.
What: James finally got Lily to agree to a date with him!
When Friday evening
Where: the Malt Shop
Warnings: fluff and awkward
James tugs on his ascot, glancing around the shop. They'd said four, hadn't they? Granted, he got here a bit early. Well, a lot early. At about 3:27 he'd wandered in, a little lost, a lot nervous, and perhaps a smidgen scared too. As he got dressed (with Sirius' help of course, thus the bright red ascot around his throat and the tapered coat that is far too fancy for the venue, but it's not like he knows any better), he'd remembered that this is Lily Evans. Lily. Ruddy. Evans. The girl he'd been half in love with since he was thirteen, head over heels for since he was fifteen, and just about resigned to his fate of never loving another since he turned seventeen.
He's on his second malt already, cursing these prudish muggles and their drinking age saying that no, he can't add alcohol to it, when it finally turns four. His heart speeds up tenfold as the clock on the wall strikes the hour, his hand gripping his glass far too hard.