The waves crashed against the rocks as they drifted closer to shore, letting out a roar that could have been intimidating had it not been for the tranquil atmosphere. Occasionally a wave came on too strong, causing some droplets of water to splash onto James's face. He licked his lips, and the taste of saltwater coursed through his mouth.

The clouds swirled above him, threatening to unleash water down onto the sea beneath it. The sun had barely made its appearance, the top of it just peeking out from the horizon. This wasn't the most conventional time for anyone to visit the beach, what with the early time of the day and the heavy chance of rain. Perhaps that was why he was surprised to see a flash of red, hair he hadn't seen in years, hair that James had become well acquainted with and fallen in love with.

He never thought he'd see her again. The last time he'd seen her was when he was 15 years old, just a foolish little boy against the strange works of the world who thought he was invincible with her by his side.

"James?" she called out hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure if it was actually him staring out into the ocean. It'd been much too long anyway; they changed as the years passed. He had grown taller and acquired a toned body, alongside more knowledge about the world.

He didn't want to answer her or even acknowledge her. It wasn't because he hated her— quite the opposite of that— but he was scared that if he turned around, she wouldn't actually be there, that she was just a figment of his imagination. What were the chances that she would be in the same place as he when they hadn't seen each other in five years? Obviously they had tried to keep in contact, but a monthly phone call was different than seeing each other in person everyday.

Genuine surprised coursed through his body as he felt a small hand on his left shoulder. He knew when he turned around he would see startling green eyes that he had fallen in love with when he was younger. He didn't want to be disappointed. He knew it was too irritational of him to think that she'd hold onto the thought of him like he'd done with her, that she saw a future with him like he did her.

It had made sense then. They were as close as friends could be— though this was all before he met Sirius, Remus, and Peter— and shared memories that were unique to just the two of them. Why wouldn't James believe that he'd marry her when they were older? Their families had surely thought that they were together from how much contact they'd made.

He remembered the crunching of the yellowed leaves on the ground as they walked home from school together. Each day they always stopped at the tree that marked their separation, being that James would continue walking straight down the street and Lily would make a turn right onto her own street. They sat under the tree together, whether it was just to do homework or talk about their day. Not a single day would pass where they wouldn't sit under the tree, except when it was raining or when the weather was too severe that they could not stand the outside.

He really thought he'd be with her, and that a future with her was definite, but then she moved away, never to be seen again.

He was briefly alone after that, that was, until he met three new best friends.

He snapped out of his reverie when his view of the water was suddenly blocked by a pair of bright green eyes, the same pair he'd hoped to see again one day. He was aware that her face was only a mere centimeters away from his; he'd never been this close to her before, though he could still make out the differences between her 15-year-old self and herself now.

She'd gotten even prettier than he'd last remembered, though that shouldn't have taken him by surprise because they were still undergoing changes from puberty at the time. She had grown into her curves, and her body radiated confidence and comfort in herself. "Lily," he had managed to let out, his internal fear that he would say something stupid getting stronger. He'd always had a difficult time in expressing his true feelings towards her.

He watched the harshness in her eyes soften. "It really is you." She moved from her rather awkward position crouched over him and held out a hand to help him up from his sitting position. He took it, reveling in the warmth that the action had brought them, and stood up. He tentatively stepped forward and engulfed her in a hug.

Her smell immediately filled his nose as he buried himself into her her, his arms holding her tight as if she would disappear once he let go. That notion vanished as quickly as it came to him, as she was sinking into his warmth, her arms wrapped appreciatively around his neck. And even though his stomach felt tight, he still felt a fluttering in it, something he knew only happened around her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her once they had pulled away, though he was not sure who ended the hug first.

"I could ask you the same thing," she rebutted, bumping her shoulder against his. They were walking along the shoreline now, James's hands in his pockets out of fear that he would do something he'd regret.

"I do love the feel of sand in my arse."

"Hm, I guess some things don't change."

"A lot's changed, actually," he pointed out. "For one thing, you've gotten even more gorgeous." James was proud that he had managed to make her blush, though it could have just been out of her modesty rather than the words coming out of his mouth.

"You've always loved the beach."

"Isn't that just what I said? Honestly, Evans, pay attention," he teased her, though he knew that she knew he meant well.

She was right, though. He'd always looked forward to going when he was a child. Back then, he was thrilled to build sandcastles, to taste the saltiness of the ocean— though his mother always had to warn him about the dangers of taking in too much saltwater— not to mention that just the feel of the ocean was nice on James's skin. He was always under the pretense that a shark would pop in for a visit someday, or maybe a dolphin at least, but all he had ever seen were small little crabs and fish that washed ashore.

Now, James still loved the beach, but for completely different reasons. He had never appreciated the serenity of the water up until he had become an adult. He figured he would have grown impatient if he was only able to sit and soak in the waves when he was a kid.

"I suppose that's why this was the first place that came to mind when I came to my childhood town for a visit, what with your love for the water and all."

He shifted in the sand. "Glad to know I was on your mind."

"You make it pretty hard for someone to forget you."

"Ah, is it the good looks or the extreme levels of intellect?" he asked, turning towards her, a smirk evident on his face. He remembered that Lily hated when he smirked at her, and that was possibly why he chose to do it. She eyed him with a look of skepticism.

"It's the prat in you that's so evident to everyone else."

He beamed at her. "Can't spell 'James Potter' without the word 'prat', otherwise I'd just be J-mes Ote."

She covered her mouth in an attempt to hold her laughter in. "That's a new one."

"I have a lot of time on my hands."

She tucked her hair behind her ears. "I called your mum to tell her I was visiting, actually. She told me you were here."

"Ah, should have known that you don't have the power to track people down like that."

"I know; it's quite devastating that I don't have the power of a stalker," she quipped, and his lips curled up in response, "So what do you do now? Besides make up jokes?"

"Dad reckons I should take up his company."

"And you want to do that?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I think the company would go bad if they saw that the person in charge of a company for a hair product has a bird's nest for hair."

"I think your hair's amazing."

"Is that what attracted you to me in the first place?" he joked, running his hands through said hair, both for emphasis on his statement and because he had a tendency to do that.

"Who said I was attracted to you?"

James let out a mock gasp. "Lily Evans, didn't your mother teach you to not hurt the feelings of other people?"

"You're a person? That's quite shocking."

"Are you a person?" he mirrored, scooping her up from the ground and carrying her bridal style. "Let's hope you don't turn into seafoam when I throw you into the water." And before she could quip back a response— one James knew would be as equally witty as everything else she had said— he didn't throw her into the ocean. The beach was very dangerous if one was not being careful, and he did not fancy the woman he loved to get cut by a shard of glass because he had carelessly thrown her into the water.

Instead, he stared into her eyes, which stood out against the scene that they were in, and she was staring back. He could see that she was startled, not from his empty threats of throwing her into the ocean, but because of the sudden transition from their joking around to him carrying and looking at her in a way that was so unlike their past interactions and more like his dreams involving both of them in a romantic atmosphere.

He was conscious of the way she clinged onto him as if she was scared she would fall— though he understood where she was going with that, as his hands were slippery from the water and his feet didn't have the best grip on sand when they were in the water— and she was pressed flush up against him.

He remembered that this was what it was like to be around her, his heart pounding and his breathing getting faster. Each time he had thought that he'd have the nerve to do something about his feelings towards the redhead, she'd always manage to surprise him with some news.

He recalled one time he was so close to kissing her, and then she went and told him that some bloke— the name of this guy did not matter at all to James— had asked her out on a date and she'd said yes. Another time he was going to ask her out on a date, they had been interrupted by James's mother, who had announced that dinner was ready. James didn't bring it up again because the mood had been ruined. And the very last time, he had finally realized that he loved her and had planned to tell her, only for her to first tell him that she was moving away because her father had found a better job opportunity.

James thought that there was absolutely nothing that could interrupt this moment between him and Lily. The sun rising had caused a myriad of colors to appear, the clouds in the sky enhancing the natural beauty of it all.

"Suppose you won't really be throwing me in, huh?" Lily had asked him, flashing him a warm smile. He shook his head and began to lean into her, and she seemed to be encouraging him by pushing his head down towards her.

"Three, two, one!" he laughed, knocking Lily out of her reverie as he swung her to his numerical chant. He heard her shriek, and she held onto him tighter as she thought that he was going to throw her. At the sound of one, it really seemed like she was going to plunge into the water, but then he placed her feet onto her feet gently. "Ah, I can't believe you actually fell for that."

"Prat."

"J-mes Ote," he corrected her. She swatted at him playfully. He was aware that he was towering over her, her body practically up against his, and it suddenly hit him that this was so familiar to old times, yet so not.

They always had this type of attitude around each other, where they would rib each other for fun, knowing that the other meant well and never taking offense. What was different was that there was never this sort of tension with one another, partially because they were only kids at that time and partially because Lily had never felt the same way James felt towards her (unless she had been secretly harboring feelings for him the entire time.)

She really was beautiful. Some of the saltwater had collected in her hair, and her smile had her practically glowing. Though James had jokingly called her a mermaid, he couldn't help but wonder if she really was one, as someone so ethereal could not possibly be real; they had to be a myth, a legend that people passed around as stories that would inspire the minds of others.

James reached back to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, as it was obscuring her face, and he wanted to see every inch of it. Just as he began to put his hand down, she tentatively grabbed his wrist, keeping it on her face. His hand moved over to her cheek, his thumb rubbing soft circles on it.

And the world, which seemingly hated James, decided that a downpour of water onto the beach was perfect at that instant.

"Fucking hell!" he had exclaimed, scooping up the bag he had brought with him as he ran, with Lily close behind him, to the nearest shack. He closed the door behind her, and he nearly groaned out loud. The rain had soaked through Lily's shirt, clearly outlining her womanly assets. He reached around in his bag and found the towels and extra clothes he had brought for himself and handed a towel to her.

"Why did you bring two towels?" she asked.

"Actually, I brought three."

"Why— "

"You never know when a towel could get ruined."

"What, you'd throw it into the ocean by accident?"

"Precisely," he answered, seeing a quizzical look on her face. "It's happened before."

He used the towel to dry off his hair first before wiping off the visible wetness on his skin. He wrapped the towel around his neck as he wrung his shirt as much as he could.

"Aren't you going to change?" she asked him, noticing his spare clothes in his bag.

"It doesn't look like it's going to stop raining anytime. We'd just get soaked if we made a run for it, and then I wouldn't have any spare clothes." She hummed in agreement.

"Suppose we'll just have to wait out the rain." She sat down on the bench and patted the space beside it, motioning for him to sit beside her. He complied, leaving a safe distance between them.

"So what have you been doing lately?" he asked, leaning back against the wall.

"What have I not been doing lately? I've been over the place."

"Physically or emotionally?"

"Both." James waited patiently for her to elaborate, and she flipped her hair back. "I'm 20 years old. I'm still trying to discover myself and my true passions, which sounds cheesy, I know it does, but—"

"No, no, I get it. You've always been unsure about what you wanted to do in the future. Being perfect at everything will make it hard to choose one profession to dedicate your life to."

"Is this still about me or did it turn to you now?"

THe corners of his lips rose. "Me, obviously. I am the epitome of perfection."

"You're supporting my argument with details concerning your own life."

"That's what I do: make everything about me."

She punched his shoulder lightly, and his hand rubbed the spot where she touched it, not because it hurt— it didn't— but because he felt a tingling sensation where she had just touched. "You're all bark and no bite."

"What do you mean?"

"James Potter, you are one of the most selfless people I know."

He shook his head at her. "Nah, that's where you're wrong."

"I mean it."

"If you were around when I was 16, you would have hated me. I was the biggest jerk around, even with three best friends to keep me grounded."

"I could never hate you." He stared at her skeptically, and she bit her lip as if she was unsure if she should say what it was that she was going to say next. He recognized that look of uncertainty because it always came across her face when she was contemplating whether or not she should tell him something on her mind. In the end, she decided to say something else, "I know your intentions were always for the best, even when you don't make the best choices."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is this about the one time I tried to throw a birthday party for you when you insisted that you didn't want one?"

"I got cake all over my face and in my hair!"

"You love cake!"

"I ended up cleaning the mess that came with the party," she added, and James opened his mouth to protest but promptly closed it when realizing that she did have a point.

"It's rather funny when you think about the whole ordeal."

"I guess so," she smiled. "It was actually really sweet of you."

"Yeah, well, I was willing to do anything to impress the girl that I fancied."

Her eyes widened at his confession before she looked down at her feet. "I have to admit, I always did have a little crush on you as well. I had hoped that we'd be each others' first kiss."

A moment of silence followed where James painstakingly took in her information. He could not quite wrap his head around the idea that she had dreamt of being with him as much as he dreamt of being with her. His entire life he'd thought that she'd only held platonic feelings towards him, and now it appears that he was wrong. He knew Lily was waiting for a response, and he really did not want to sound like a lovesick fool, so he replied with a vague statement.

"I still could be." The ambiguous nature of his statement made Lily puzzled, James could see.

"James, I had my first kiss years ago."

"Well no shit, so did I. I meant we could still have our first kiss."

"In this old shack?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. He agreed that the shack was pretty gross, seeing as many people had been in there before they had.

"Unless you fancy making out in that storm."

"It'd be pretty romantic." His eyes furrowed in confusion, as he never saw the appeal in kissing in the rain, or doing anything that wasn't getting to safety in the rain. He didn't understand why people always did it in the movies; they could be doing the same thing dry. "Come on, if you're at the beach, you must be willing to get some water on you."

"Ah, you're lucky that I've been smitten with you for years, otherwise I would have been strictly opposed to going out into that rain."

"But you are opposed to it," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're being really cute right now and it's really hard for me to say no when you want to kiss me."

She beamed at him, that kind of smile that reached her eyes and lit up her whole face. "I knew I could convince you." She gave him a quick peck on the nose and grabbed his hand. "Come on."

He blinked at her, her lips seemingly came out of nowhere and disappeared before he could fully register what she was doing, but he didn't fret; they were going to have a full on session not too long after. She opened the door, and he followed her, fully aware of their intertwined hands, the warmth spreading throughout his body.

He felt the first droplet of rain hit him as soon as they left the old shack, and he only briefly made out her face, his own glasses being obscured by the many droplets falling onto it. She reached up and pulled the pesky item off of his face, no doubt that it would have hindered their kiss anyway. She folded them up and hung them from his shirt, which was dripping with water.

Without his glasses everything had become a blur, though he knew that it probably would have been worse if he kept them on, and he was only able to make out Lily because she had moved so close to him, their faces nearly touching. He pushed back the wet strands of hair in her face, and he thought that she reminded him of the sparkles that people saw in the same, that she was sparkling herself. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing, comparing him to things she found beautiful.

But before he could further explore the thought, she pressed her lips against his. He suddenly knew why people enjoyed kissing in the rain, and he immediately took back the notions that he had about it just a few minutes ago. There was something so raw in the act, that the two parties cared so much for the other that they would put it all away to feel the other against them. James kissed the rain on her lips, the taste of her lip balm mingling with the taste of the saltwater from the ocean and the rain, and he parted her lips open with his tongue, wanting to feel more of her. She immediately responded, granting him more access to her.

The rain didn't care. It poured down in large torrents, its intention to destroy whatever it could, to flood the entire world if it pleased. It surely didn't care about the young couple embracing one another, who deliberately went outside knowing that they could be brought down by the heavy downpour. The thunderous crashes of the waves and the pelting of water could have been trying to scare the two off, but instead it served as incentive that the two should be engaging in their act.

James's hands moved up and down Lily's body, making sure to mark her as his— though not entirely in the fact that she belonged to nobody but herself— before the rain could sweep her away from him. He didn't know how long they continued in the act, but when they finally pulled away, the clouds did not part and the rain did not cease, as the rain did not care for them, though it did not matter in that their care for one another was enough. No, the rain kept going, maybe even coming on a bit stronger, but they were smiling widely at each other, their bodies still against one another.

It was universally known that strange things turned up at the ocean. James had loads of evidence to support that case. He remembered a starfish had washed ashore once, and he had been quick to collect it. Though that was a fairly normal item, James had heard stories where dead animals had come up, which he was grateful that he never got to see firsthand.

James never knew that the girl that he had loved since his childhood would turn up at the beach. She may not have been physically washed to shore by the waves, but perhaps there was some sort of correlation between her and the beach. After today, however, James knew that he loved the beach even more than he did before.

"I reckon we should make a run for my car now, seeing as there's no point in drying up in the shack just to get wet again later," James said.

"We've just snogged in the rain. Might as well walk, enjoy the moment. We've still got loads to catch up on." James chuckled in agreement, going inside to grab his bag. He held her hand, swinging it back and forth as they strolled towards his car, the waves still crashing and the rain still pouring.

He knew he was going to come up with a case of the common cold, but honestly, it was all worth it. They had a lot to catch up on, and all the time in the world to do so.