Blue skies are calling me

Lily had spent a lifetime insisting there was no heroic quality to being a 'Potter' beyond a natural Quidditch ability, had shirked every opportunity to affirm any assumptions granted her because of her father's name. She might have actually beat out Albus on the nobility side of it. There was nothing noble about who she had become these past few years. But if she won for destroying the nobility, he had epicly challenged the idea that a Potter was unforgettable. Something she knew would both pain and please her brother.

Helping a bunch of kids learn defensive skills under the noses' of the Ministry was not exactly defying expectations.

But she wanted Christian and Ace safe, and didn't want to ruin her already fragile friendship with the Hufflepuff boy. Her last fear had just been quenched by Apollo, as she had been certain helping Christian would tear her farther from her and, even putting the promise aside, it had been enough to make her more than a little hesitant. But she was closer than ever to him, and he was asking her help.

She had made a list. And she finally had a practical solution to one of them.

Her eyes closed as she nestled closer, listening more to the hum of his chest than his words, though they reached her. She wondered vaguely what it was like to have someone so near you, so alike, and what compromises it made to your idea of self.

"I don't want to be a hero. Or my father. I just- I don't want anything, really."

Her eyes flicked open, heart pounding within her hollow chest. He was speaking still, and she couldn't help it. As much as she desired to remain close, she scooted back to watch him, to watch his eyes travel the ceiling, the cogs turning in his head. Christian had always been the one who was kind to her, who seemed to notice, who actually hounded her about her well being. But she could not muster up the feelings for him that had stirred for, as Apollo said, his almost-double.

That inexplicable draw suddenly wasn't so hard to explain.

Her eyes were shining, stinging, and she refused to attribute them to anything but... but exhaustion. A hand reached out to Apollo, brushing back his hair before both hands reached out to cup his face. She brought hers close, her eyes reaching deeply into his.

And she said the words they had both been needing to hear.

"You are not bad. You just aren't what they expected. And that's no one's fault but their own."

Her chin buckled but she closed her eyes for a moment, before they slid back open, the moment passing despite the deep thudding in her chest. "I can make it work," she whispered.

It wasn't necessarily life-affirming or anything, but the way she looked at him made Apollo freeze, holding tightly onto the breath he had taken. He wanted to throw his arm fully around her waist, lean her back down onto the pillow, and kiss her again. Really, really badly.

He didn't, though. Instead he just swallowed, forced himself to take up a normal breathing pattern again, and nodded. "Thank you."

His eyes searched hers, wishing she knew how to read him well enough to initiate what he wanted herself. Maybe then he would feel less guilty about it. Maybe then he wouldn't wake up the next morning and feel like he had betrayed his brother. She had started the first kiss. He wanted to be forward, to be man enough to get what he was after. But if his brother was going to risk everything while Apollo sat there and watched from afar, how could he take something so important? Even if Lily and Christian didn't know it should feel that important?

It was a stupid thing to wonder, the next thought that came to mind. But it was already letting him know that he would be haunted by it until the answer came. Like he'd reminded himself: she had initiated it. He'd been tempted to do that for weeks, but Lily had done it. And what, exactly, did that mean? He didn't know if he cared, or if he should care, but the likelihood that it meant - or would end up meaning - nothing was palpable. He didn't want to crave affection from her like he did from Daphne.

Okay, so arguably, he wouldn't want the same thing from the two of them. Gross. But the sentiment was still relevant, sort of.

Either way, it led him to saying something he felt in hindsight that he would certainly regret.

"Lil -- Lily," he started, tripping over her name as he tore his gaze away from hers. He only really got it out properly once he was staring at their covers. "I- I know this," he gestured between them, "probably isn't a... thing. But I don't know what to tell him. How to explain what you decide. It's like I said, you know? He loved you. I'm scared he still might. Or will again. And that isn't something we can save him from if you don't love him back."

Lily desperately hoped he understood the weight of her words, understood the resonance they held not just for him, but for her as well. It was something to hang her hat on, to come back to, to rely on when doubts and self loathing flooded in. It was more than an urging to thing better of one-self. It was a reminder that the world was not fair and to defy the idea that they had to aspire to any sort of standard it set.

Fuck it, couldn't they just be themselves?

She watched something transform on his face, and her eyebrows curved inward in confusion, reaching towards her hairline, wondering what could be spoiling this brief recess from their worries. Of course, there were plenty of problems to steal them away from their stolen moment. The Express, Ilvermorny, Christian and Ace, Christian in general, their families, their uncertainties as to what happened now...

Her lips parted in surprise at his words, and her hands froze on his face, staring into his face, almost desperate in her attempt to understand him. She shook her head and rubbed her thumb across his cheek, her other hand drifting to his chin, face gentle in its desire.

Look at me.

"Better women than me will love Christian," she whispered, a touch of an ironic smile ghosting across her lips. "It's not something I can do for him. Of not fault to his own, or of mine. He's just not who..." she paused. Perhaps she better start again. "I will always be his friend. It's all I can be. He has a big heart. I think he will understand."

She blinked. "As for this 'thing' being 'not a thing'," she continued, her voice lowering as one of her hands slipped behind his head, gathering at his neck, other hand trailing down his face, gliding across his shoulder, journeying back to his chest as she once again, closed the distance. And there it was again, that dare, that danger in her that was eagerly welcoming him to join her. Her breathing was deep and weighty, her eye contact unwavering, her body shifting to meet his, tingles at every point of contact. "I thought, as a Slytherin, you'd be cleverer than that."

And the desire in her face, sincere and true, was no longer as gentle.

Kiss me.

He didn't regret saying it.

He didn't know if he was supposed to, but he caught the start of that sentence. Yes, that one. But he didn't have time to react to it because she changed tacks and reminded him of the fact that both he and his brother were starting to hit that stage where they had to act like proper adults. Christian was man enough, Apollo knew, to move past it. But causing pain to someone he loved was a terrible feeling, wasn't it? On both sides.

Something deep in his stomach clenched as she focused back on him rather than on the other twin, and particularly when she said something so challenging. Why was that so damned attractive? Sure, feeling the trail of heat that her hands left behind was one thing, but it was another entirely when her voice was that low, and her eyes were burning with something he'd never seen without the veneer of alcohol over it. The alcohol had never helped the flame of course, though one might expect that it would have.

But this was so much better than that would've been anyway. Because it was Lily, and she had just suggested - no, confirmed - that he'd gotten what he'd wanted since Christian had magicked that curtain shut around them: Her.

She didn't ask, but he didn't need her to. He didn't wait for her to, more like, because his hands were at her waist again and that gap between them had disapparated and it felt like his insides were in the wrong place altogether because this was something he'd never let himself imagine. Even if he had, it wouldn't have been this right. Never would he have been so happy about it, in his ponderings.

He didn't want to seem impatient or desperate, but he felt that way a little. Or a lot. It nearly escaped his lips, too, as it had hers, but he caught himself hitting that point between kisses, halting himself with a longer, steadier one.

This wasn't what was supposed to have happened. But he didn't actually care one bit.

No, indeed. Instead, he reveled in it, and in the fact that as his breath mingled with hers in that poorly-lit bedroom, all that could possibly come from this was a little bit of discomfort for Christian. Everything else, he swore, would be good.

Chests rose as fingers twitched, the sounds of the street waking up beginning to take on real resonance, penetrating a window pane that had already traitorously let in the first rays of light to reach past the buildings of Diagon Alley. There was a warmth, unoppressive in the cool of the morning, given off by soft blankets and good intentions. It radiated from two who had become word and might have in deed had it not meant more to keep the words separate while they let their true meaning really do their work. Two adults, two children in many ways, who despite the journey of the night and the many shifts and twists that night brought, were still clinging to each other's hands like lifelines.

Lily was not used to waking up at decent times. But it had also been a long time since she had slept so well, had such a good night's sleep. Not too deep, for fear of it all being gone upon waking, but deep enough because of the certainty that the coming day was only going to bring more of what the night had delivered. Falling asleep, her usual fears, her certainties that the cruel world would manipulate and steal any semblance of joy... none of it was as real as the breathing of the Slytherin next to her, his heart thudding beneath her hear, telling her its secrets in a language she wished she could understand but almost took pleasure in the unknowing, in the idea that she would learn its language.

Her eyes took awhile to open, preferring to see the scene with every other sense instead, the soft but deliberate points of contact between them, their scents on each other, the song that the varied rhythms of their breaths made. Lily had spent a long time feeling empty and trapped within her own body. She had spent a long time looking into the depths of time and seeing how she would waste away, small and insignificant.

But she didn't care to please Time. She didn't want to make sure it was Time that was okay and happy and safe.

A big breath filled her chest, the feeling attached filling her whole being, and she finally let her eyes slip open, moving slowly to tilt her head upwards, to ghost her gaze across the face of Apollo Zabini, who looked more at peace than he had in a long time. She didn't want to wake him necessarily, but she certainly wanted to see his eyes, see how comfortable that sense of peace had gotten within him, or see if all the demons they had battled had returned and come back to claim their squatter's rights. The hand not holding tightly to his slid up and once again brushed back his hair, settling on his cheek. Her thumb brushed back the ghost of any tear that might have ever landed there, taking it all away. She was here now.

And she intended to keep it that way.

Would you like to know a secret or two, reader? I imagine you would. See, Apollo never had dreams that he could actually remember upon waking. It was like those hours were just gone, with a black screen over what had happened. He also never slept on his back before Lily. But it was surprisingly comfortable, his dream was surprisingly pleasant, and the corners of his lips actually lifted when he woke rather than fell.

Nothing too, too intimate had happened, but he preferred it that way. There was something important and magical about an array of trailed kisses and quiet reassurances. To be fair, Apollo felt like she had to offer more of the latter than him, and that did unsettle him slightly. But if anyone needed it in that moment, it was him.

That said, when he woke it wasn't because Lily shifted but rather because a touch like hers was so uncommon that even his subconscious couldn't remain distracted by dreams of happy days.

Apollo leaned into her hand first, not fully understanding that it was Lily there at first. It wasn't that he had forgotten what had occurred the night before, but rather that he hoped it was her and didn't want to be let down. What if she had left and he was actually still asleep, after all?

The hand that had ended up wrapped around her back moved next. His fingers tested the fabric, pulling it into a fist at her waist before he finally let himself accept that it was really her and she was really still there.

He opened his eyes finally, searching out her features immediately. As though he hadn't been relaxed enough, he sank further into the bed and smiled at her sleepily. His free hand lifted, brushing across her forearm. "Hi."

As happy as he would've been just lay there, pretending the day didn't have to properly begin, that wasn't quite an option. Life went on despite so very much changing in the space of a few hours. So he drew her hand away from his face, twining their fingers together as he shifted onto his side to face her. The arm that had curled around her drew back, his fingers brushing across the nape of her neck before he traced the column of her neck with his thumb.

"You sleep well? How are you feeling?"

She was rewarded with the slow reveal of his features, his face coming to life as eyelids slip open and skin over skull stretched to awaken. She liked him at peace, liked him calm and happy, but she was here for him, all of it, at peace or not, and she wanted to see it all.

It came back though, and she didn't think anyone had ever looked so unconflicted in looking at her. Strangers gave looks of pity and uncertainty, friends look of concern and disappointment, enemies looks of disgust and indifference, all the other men looks of lust and mingled evil satisfaction, and her brothers... well, like those who didn't fit into any of the aforementioned categories, they didn't even look at her.

This was a most dangerous look indeed. A look she could get used to, a look she could crave. A look she did not want to see leave.

"Hi," she replied, a smile touching her lips before she rolled it back. It was an odd sensation for the girl so used to maintaining a stone face. But she had withdrawn for so long and vulnerable as it was... it felt right to give him full access to what was going on beneath the surface.

"I did," she said, her voice still soft, the product of that early-morning hesitancy to begin the day fully. How did she feel. She sucked in her top lip, once again pursing back that all-too-telling smile that threatened to get her way too far ahead of herself, though the warmth still reached her eyes. And maybe it wasn't the answer he expected, but she suspected it was an answer he might understand. Flexing her fingers in his, she tilted her head. "I'm feeling."

The annoying part of him wanted to point out that he'd caught that smile, but he doubted it would help him win any more of them, so he kept his mouth shut despite the grin he had to suppress. Lily might not have been one to show it if she were pleased, but Apollo hadn't done his fair share of smiling lately either. Somehow, he just knew that there wouldn't necessarily be an infinite number of days or mornings like this one. So he ignored the fact that, in an hour or two, he would probably end up in a thoroughly sour mood because of his brother. Or his dad. Or his mum. Or whoever. But it wouldn't be because of her anymore.

As contented as he was to hear that she had slept well, it was the other question that mattered more to him. She didn't give him one that he saw coming, piquing his interest even further. Sometimes he felt like someone had taken some expectations and carved out a person, and while they had succeeded with Christian, they had failed when it came to Apollo and Lily.

In that moment, Apollo didn't actually mind. In fact, he reveled in it.

"Fair enough," he conceded after a moment of trying to read her expression, unwilling to push when he felt she didn't want him to. The left corner of his lips pulled up in a quick, breath of a laugh that surprised even him as his chest shook with it. Leaning forward, he kissed her so briefly that it almost didn't happen, before sitting up.

The hand at her arm lifted to pass through his hair quite predictably, and part of the question came out before he realized what it would mean. "Are you hu-?"

His gaze flicked to the window, then the door, and then back to her. It took a minute, but he finally sighed and changed tacks. "How are we supposed to do this?"

He couldn't possibly understand the accomplishment that had been made in that moment, could not recognize how different and deliberate her heart beat felt now, could not know that the omission was actually an admission. It was momentous, and she wouldn't hold it against him that he didn't know the whole scope of her answer. He was the reason the answer had changed, after all. They were figuring it out. They had time.

But he was not baffled to the point of irritation, and his single laugh coaxed a pleasant hum from her throat, her long lashes catching and releasing as he blinked a bit dreamily, settling back in the bed. His bed. This was where he slept and thought. Staying in bed had always spelled relapse or confinement for her. Either she could not get up because of her body, or because of her brain. Now she couldn't get up because... she just didn't want to.

A kiss warmed her before she could even react, and she squinted her eyes at the sneak who had stolen the moment before she could even fully enjoy it. He sat up and she buttoned her lips, watching him think, light from the window behind him, hair mussed from the night. She didn't care where the thoughts landed, so long as she maintained the view-

oh. Right. Yeah.

"That actually reminds me. Christian thinks we're shagging."

Although he could tell that she was watching him, but it wasn't until she spoke that he whipped his head around, staring at her with a furrowed brow. His expression continued to become more confused, more thoughtful, until he finally broke and looked away.

"When did he say that?" He asked, leaning back until his head settled against the wall. Shifting his gaze back to her again, he frowned. "I never suggested that. He knew I hadn't seen you."

So maybe that was saying a bit too much. Did that mean he had talked about her being away? That he had talked about her before and suddenly stopped? Apollo knew the answer, but Lily didn't need to. Instead of clarifying, he shook his head and got up, pushing himself out of bed. He crossed to his closet, sliding the door to the side and looking for a clean shirt.

"I wouldn't say that about you, Lily. Even if it were true." He told her, glancing over his shoulder as he took one off the hangar. Even if she had brought it up because she thought it might be a laugh, he hadn't taken it that way. Instead, it was like Christian had personally insulted him by insulting Lily. Apollo didn't know if she found it insulting or just surprising, but he didn't have the patience to ask. He wasn't sure what his brother had meant by it, but either way, it wasn't appreciated. "I don't know where he got it from. Merlin. I could just -- hex him, I swear."