Like a Romantic Comedy by 
cosmopolitan
Chapter X: I hate my pesky little conscience… what a nasty bugger -- They say that there are two things that you can always expect in life, two sureties in it if there are no others, and that’s death and taxes, well that’s bull. I can think of a thousand other shitty things that you can add to that morbid list, like heart break… now that, that’s a big one there. in fact I’d be willing to bet everyone can at least name one that they had to bear through—be it that boy you were totally in love with when five but then he pulled your braid and you never really forgave him after—may Jeremy Bancock rot in hell for eternity—or the best friend—i.e. James here—who just can’t seem to realize that yes, you do have breasts! I suddenly felt a rather hard shoulder bump with mine and I scowled at the interruption in my, in my opinion, rather stunning and revolutionary tirade. “What?!” I spat, whipping my head so fast that I was surprised that my neck didn’t crack from the sudden movement. Sirius, however, being the prat that he was, merely smiled at me like an idiot, which he was. “What are you contemplating now?” I shrugged. “Death and taxes,” was my morose retort as I cocked my head to the side, turning my attention to trying to guess how many papers were on that massive pile atop my desk, making it look like Mount Everest, almost. “That’s rather morbid, don’t you think?” “I was comparing it to love.” “Scratch my previous statement then, that’s very morbid.” I shrugged. “To each their own.” He chuckled, nudging my shoulder with his own. “What’s going on up there, anyway? Far too many cogs seem to be working in overdrive for that to be the extent of your worries.” “I don’t know… it all just seems so stupid and folly, I guess.” “What?” “This, the plan, my actually liking James-” “Loving,” he amended like the insufferable prat that he is. “Right,” I rolled my eyes at the pesky reminder, “that.” “So tell me, my dear,” he began, shifting his body so that he was lying on his side and facing me. “What is it that seems so pointless?” “Forcing a bloke to love me… I—I don’t want to like—love James anymore. It hurts, it hurts like a fucking bitch and I hate it because it makes me that vulnerable weak girl that I promised myself I’d never be, but because, naturally, karma’s a bitch, I am her! And then, to add insult to injury, no matter how much I piss and moan about—which, ironically enough, only adds to the whiny girl image I’m trying to escape—still, nothing changes. I’m not doing anything to ameliorate this whole fucking mess!” I ranted, admittedly not too coherently as each of my arguments came in a tangles mess of unrelated clauses. “I just—ugh!” I groaned, hitting the comforter in aggravation, a rather amazing display of my unparallel strength, if I may say so. “Just… ugh… what the fuck?!” And like a prat, Sirius merely chortled in response. “Then fix it.” I guffawed. “Oh, and just like that it’ll all be better, peaches and roses, right?” “Well, I’m not quite sure about what the bloody hell you meant with that last part, but pretty much, yeah. I mean come on, Lils, just face it head on, if you want things to change, confront James, talk to him… and talk to Henry…” I scrunched my nose, scowling. “I don’t like that, sounds messy.” “Things like this usually are,” he told me like a sage arse. I frowned, petulantly muttering “I hope you realize I blame you for this whole mess.” “And why’s that?” “Because you coerced me into the whole jealousy bit-” “Oi, I didn’t coerce you!” Sirius protested, jaw going slack at the accusation. “Well in my mind you did, easier on the conscience that way,” I shrugged. “Besides you totally supported it, at least Remus tried to fight it—even though, really, he never stood a chance against the two of us…” “No, he really didn’t,” Sirius admitted with a small smile, bumping his shoulder with mine playfully. “So what are you going to do then?” “Finish this, I guess.” Sirius’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, clearly not having expected me to, for once, take the mature route in life. “And how do you propose to do that?” “I think I’ll go with the lax approach and just go with the flow…” -- “I… um… James, can we talk?” I asked him, interrupting him from what appeared to be a riveting bout of staring at the ceiling as he lay in bed. “Yeah, sure, take a seat,” he told me, patting the spot right next to him. I plopped down onto it in a none too ladylike manner, and not the least bit bothered by that fact either. “I have to admit something.” “What?” he asked me, eyebrows stringing together as he turned on his side to face me, sending me a quizzical look, clearly perplexed by the obviously serious nature of the conversation, a rarity with me. “I… well… ugh… it’s—it’s like this…” I stopped, tired of my incoherent stammering and rather angered by the amused look on James’s face. Fucking arse. “Yes?” he goaded. I let out a deep, frustrated breath. “I… okay, here’s the deal, I like you—actually, no… scratch that, I think I’m sort of in love with you… and I also sort of hate you for that, come to think of it, actually. Weird, right?” I rambled on nervously, plastering a big, fake smile onto my face when I finally finished with that last, lackluster, rhetorical question. And I think his jaw may have very well alchemist hit the floor upon hearing that rather unorthodoxly put admission. -- author’s note: in all honesty I haven’t been up to writing this fic since about the fourth chapter, but I hate leaving something unfinished, primarily sine I hate it when a fic I read isn't, so I’m forcing myself to get this out. Anyway, advice and comment are always welcome; we’re entering the final quarter of this short story so I’m intrigued to hear what the response will be. ETERNALLY SORRY FOR THE DELAY!
| « Previous |