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Hands covered in frosting paint his face. Laughter rings loud and true throughout the Potter living room.
“Prongs, mate, you look like you need a little bit more color” says Sirius before taking globs of red frosting and dabbing them on James’s cheeks.
Frosting drips on the floor and surrounding surfaces as it fails to layer on James’s face. Silence rules the room before James’s chest rumbles with laughter causing more frosting to stain the still store-tagged couch. Sirius and Remus move further along the couch to not get their trousers wet.
“James not the couch!”, Lily rushes across the room but stumbles into cans and falls into a chair across from them giggling.
She is so beautiful…
“Maybe you should worry more about yourself than the couch” says Remus as he serves himself yet another cup of hot chocolate.
“Says Willy Wonka” snickers Sirius as he attempts to get rid of the excess frosting in his hands by rubbing them together but ends up using James’s sweater to wipe his hands.
“Aww come on man, this was a gift” James grumbles yet he stays still. “Done, are you?”
Sirius smiles sheepishly before turning to Remus and burying himself into the sweater mumbling “So soft…my stars”
James chuckles and is halfway up stairs before he stops to yell, “I’m going to get a new jumper!”
A faint yell reaches his hears, “Get a bottle of fire-whiskey from the attic too!”
James shakes his head but still heads to the attic before changing. One corner of the attic was filled with wedding gifts but a portion is taken up by cases of fire-whiskey specifically tagged “For Lily”.
He might be an arse but he knows what she likes.
James reaches into the case, grabbing a bottle but his breath catches and he lets go. His lungs tighten and the side of his body is on fire. There is water in his lungs and his knees hit the floor as his body fails to reach for help. Laughter mocks his ears as his knuckles clench tight and pain squeezes his heart. The fire soon becomes freezing cold and James stops fighting it, letting it take him.
James sputters and coughs as air reaches his lungs. His pants are wet not with water but with fire-whiskey. Lungs full he manages to stand yet James stays tense and shaky hands reach for his sweater.
Words curve around his now black and white Sword Lily.
Lily…she is waiting.
James hurriedly grabs another bottle of fire-whiskey making sure to avoid the broken glass. He stumbles down the stairs, hands gripping the walls. We should install a rail next…
Sobbing echoes around the bedroom as James reaches for a jumper and trousers blindly. He catches a glimpse of his face in the mirror, wet-melted frosting threatening to stain yet another top. James casts a scourify on his way out of the room, making sure to not forget the fire-whiskey that his beloved wife was asking for.
“Got the whiskey, hon” James presses the bottle into Lily’s hand before pressing a kiss to her head staying there for a couple of breaths.
You’re here, you’re safe…you’re alive?
“James, sweetie, is that my jumper?” Lily’s hand pushes his chest gently to properly see the outfit.
“Are you sure? They all look so similar” James joked, his cheeks rising but his eyes remained unwrinkled while the hand at Lily’s waist trembled.
Lily put her arms around James and squeezed him gently while whispering “What’s mine is yours remember? Plus you make it look good” Her smirk sets off the cuddling couple in the couch across from them.
Yet the hands which usually bring comfort now bring pain as the words seared on his side rub against her jumper.
Am I really yours anymore?