Little Red // A Jily Fan Fiction

A Breathing Definition of a Punch in the Face (Pt 2)

A/N: This chapter is literally just a filler chapter for my next idea

Gif Above: James Potter

- Lily -

I hummed along to the song playing through my laptop whilst chucking the cushions (personally I hate them but they make the room look better and my mum insisted of giving them to me for my birthday) back onto my bed.

I got back home at midnight last night but that didn't stop my mum from being up and waiting for me. She had heard Petunia's side of the story, which, by the way, was exaggerated, and demanded to hear my side of the story. We've had our spats before but this one has definitely topped the bar of fights. Petunia refused to talk to me at breakfast which was fine by me as I plugged in some headphones and continued to do my Computing essay. The second I finished the toast I had made I was up to my bedroom (which is the loft - boy did trying to get this as my room cost a lot of arguments) and quickly blasted my music.

My parents are out of the house for a quick early morning workout, how and why? This gave me plenty of time to decide on what the fuck I'm wearing today. James told me we're going to be doing a lot of walking and that I'm helping him with his art project - which actually means irritating him to no return like I normally do when we're within five feet of each other. However, James also promised me food and a movie afterwards so I don't mind burning some calories along the way.

By the time I had picked an outfit; black ripped skinny jeans, a white vest, a white knitted sweater and some black ankle boots (pretty much the nicest casual clothes that match with my hair); it finally hit me that I might want to do the decent thing and shower. So I had probably the fastest, yet thorough, shower ever heard of and then dried, brushed and styled my hair quicker than I've ever done.

Then again my hair's in a messy bun but it's James and I know that he honestly won't care what I look like. It's times like these where he's most useful.

My phone started ringing, overpowering The 1975, from it's place on the floor - the phone charger only reaches so far. I hit Pause on the music and answered the phone, too busy wrestling with the button on my jeans to bother checking the name on the screen.

"You alright there Evans?" James laughed as I sighed in relief, finally getting the button done up.

"I'm fine." I rolled my eyes at his boyish laugh.

James stopped laughing and I heard something click shut on the other end of the line. "You almost ready then Red, I'm leaving now."

Looking down at my self and seeing that I'm not even in my vest yet I shook my head. "You just shook your head didn't you?"  James sighed on the other end of the phone making me slap my forehead.

"No." I lied. "In fact I am ready thank you very much Potter." Why the fuck do I feel the need to prove someone wrong at all times?

"Great." That cocky bastard knows I lied. "I'll be at yours in around five minutes."

"Fine by me." Damn it that's quicker than I expected. "See you then."

"See ya Evans." With that he hung up and I lunged across the room to find my vest. I shoved the vest and the knit sweater on as quickly as I could without ruining the bun before wrestling my feet into socks and white trainers. By the time I bounded down the stairs James' car was pulling up outside the driveway. 

I hid behind the living room doorway; ignoring the weirded-out look that Petunia's throwing at me; until James knocked on the doorway and I casually opened the door. 

I should totally have taken Drama...

James is stood at the door looking damn fine in black jeans, a grey tee shirt and a black button up left unbuttoned over the top, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and white high tops on his feet. That stupid fucking grin spread across his face once I opened the door and I don't know if I want to punch him or kiss him again.