“Oh, Joy” || Jily.
My God I haven’t written Jily in so long… this is a combination of pointless plot and me avoiding studying at any and all costs, but I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6,473 || archiveofourown
It was just more wholly unnecessary, but utterly definite proof that French really, truly was the Satan of all subjects. Of course, the events of that atomic disaster of a night could also have been blamed upon her liberal alcohol consumption, or even indeed on the disloyalty of her so-called friends - but their final term together ended in less than two months, and Lily was rendered too emotionally fragile at the thought of having to leave them to truly be angry with any of them.
That and the fact that blaming them for what transpired that night was probably entirely irrational, given that her actions just so happened to be of her own doing – alcohol or no alcohol.
Whoever or whatever was to blame, the fact remained that Lily effectively set her entire life alight on that fateful night, deep in the depths of what was quite possibly the grottiest pub on their side of the river.
And the most startling thing of all was that she didn’t really mind all that much.
Tally: Lily – 05 || James – 03
“Oi – prick-face,” she all but shouted, moving through the crowd with the grace of a mobile armoire. The prick-in-question’s eyebrows raised inquisitively at her greeting.
“Have pigs started flying, Evans? Or did you just voluntarily acknowledge my presence?”