Chapter 2
James had been thinking about that mysterious stranger all week. His cheekbones haunted his dreams. He had to know who he was. He had to see him again. He wanted to tell Sirius about this stranger, and his uncanny resemblance to him, but he seemed to be acting strangely. Distant even. This whole week he has been waking up early (something James has been pleading with him to do since they met in year 7) and getting back to their dorm late, often falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. Maybe he’s seeing someone. He does tend to get consumed by all of his relationships, whether he’s dating someone or casually flirting with them.
There could be numerous reasons for his friend's sudden busy schedule, but James can’t help but believe that he is avoiding him. Why, he has no idea. His brain convinces him of the strangest things sometimes.
But all this overthinking can’t be good for his mental health, so he does the only thing he knows helps calm him down. He decides to go for a run. He hasn’t got a lecture until 12, and it’s currently 9 am. Sirius left the dorm before he even woke up, and James is an early riser. Or perhaps, he didn’t even come home last night. Was Sirius okay? Is he hurt? Is he-
No. Don’t think like that.
James leaves the building as fast as he can, determined not to let his thoughts spiral. So, he runs. And runs. And runs. As fast as he can, for as long as he can, without stopping. An hour later, James practically collapses on the floor beneath a tree. He’s grateful for the shade, his grey top is drenched with sweat. Mid-September is surprisingly hot this year. James silently curses himself for not bringing any water with him, or at least some money. All he can do is just sit there until his breathing returns to normal and he can move his limbs again, which have become stiff from all the exertion.
He runs all the way back to campus after resting for 10 minutes, jumping in the shower before he has a chance to miss his lecture. McGonagall would be pissed if he was late. Again. Three times in just as many weeks is a sure way to get kicked off the course. He races to his class without caring that his shoes don’t match, and that his hair is still wet. He forgot his bag too, so he doesn’t even have his laptop to pretend that he is doing work. James is aware that right now, he is a complete and utter mess.
Sirius is his best friend. His brother. And there’s something he’s not telling him. James admits that that stings, just a little. He would tell Sirius anything, and he guesses that he does not feel the same way. He remembers this one time Sirius got all detached and withdrawn, isolating himself from James and the rest of their friends. He was kicked out of his house, rather brutally, a month later. Was his family back in contact with him? Surely not, they all hate him. What was going on with him?
He was walking fast, after being told off for running. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice someone walking towards him. They collided, knocking the books the other person was holding to the ground.
As he stoops to assist in picking everything up, James rambles, “I'm so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“It’s alright,” a calm voice says.
James looks up to see the stranger he saw a week ago staring at him, his grey eyes examining James’ brown skin, still slightly wet from his shower. Grey. Not blue, like Sirius’. That’s one difference. Grey, like the overcast sky in London. His favourite weather. Rain. When the stranger sees James staring, his lips begin to curl upwards faintly. He is fixated. He doesn’t care that he was just caught staring. The man’s lips look so soft, so smooth. There is nothing more James wants in this moment than to put his own lips on the strangers. That seems weird, doesn’t it? He's only seen this man twice; he doesn’t even know him.
The stranger asks, smirking at how stupid James probably appears, “Are you okay?”
“I-” James starts, “I’m going to be late.”
And, like a fool, James leaves.