A/N: Hello, it's been a while since I've published anything and I am sorry about that. But this came to me a couple days ago and I know it isn't the same as an update to any of my stories but I don't have much time unfortunately. Anyway, this is meant to be a pretty cute fic, so please, enjoy!

And a very special thank you to FivepointstoGryffindor for reminding me of how I love to write these stories.

Set in Sixth Year, James and Lily aren't enemies but aren't exactly friends.

Lily Evans stumbled through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor Common Room at a quarter past midnight. She bumped her shin on a table and swore softly. She hadn't meant to get so caught up in revising her essay, but she wanted it to be perfect for McGonagall, given how poorly she'd done on the last Transfiguration essay she turned in.

And so, after dinner Lily had gone to the library and sat in one of the back corners in complete isolation. She worked diligently, unaware of the hours creeping by, pouring over her essay until she deemed it worthy to be handed in.

Which was why Lily was coming back to Gryffindor Tower after all of the Gryffindors had already gone up to bed, and long after curfew.

The Common Room was illuminated by the soft glow of the fire. Lily's shadow danced along the wall as she made her way through in the dim lighting.

She clutched the roll of parchment in her hand and began to make her way over to the stairs when she noticed a student sleeping on the couch.

And perhaps it was because of the dim lighting and a dash of intense curiosity, or perhaps it was some sort of deep instinct of who it was, that Lily found herself moving closer and examining the sleeping figure. She could not immediately recognize who it was, for there was a book that was covering most of their face.

Lily chuckled lightly to herself, knowing from her own past experiences that whoever it was must have fallen asleep while reading.

Lily set down her Transfiguration essay. She carefully removed the book from the student's face and was mildly shocked to see the face of James Potter resting so peacefully below her.

Lily would have sworn in court that her heart never fluttered, and that her smile didn't grow any larger.

But if it did, it was her secret to keep.

Lily held the book in her hands, fingers marking the page that he had last been on, and stepped back to survey the scene in front of her. James was sprawled out all over the couch, one leg extending and resting on the far side and the other dangling off the edge. He was still in his school uniform, but his shirt was wrinkled more than usual and his tie was twisted on his neck. He hadn't even bothered to take off his shoes.

Lily noticed how his glasses were askew on his face, probably from pushed around by the book, and his hair was still disheveled. Oddly enough, James' hair looked calmer than it did when he was awake, for his hands probably hadn't been run through it in hours. The little peaks of raven hair rested gently on top of each other, not in a way that would be considered tame, but a calmer chaos, Lily thought.

His eyes were shut, but Lily knew if they were to open, she'd be greeted by the most shocking coloring of hazel she'd ever seen. But if his eyes had shot open, Lily knew they probably would find themselves in a spat over nothing at all. How (unfortunately) most of their interactions happened these days. And thus, Lily was glad that his eyes remained shut during her period of scrutiny.

His face was neutral. A sight that Lily before had never seen. When awake, James Potter was electric. Always buzzing about, twenty emotions flicking across his face at once. He was one of the most expressive people Lily herself had ever met. His face was always shifting and displaying emotions. Lily found his expressive personality captivating.

She'd never tell him that though.

Deciding not to leave James to excruciating discomfort when he awoke, Lily ripped a off small piece of her essay to stick in his book so that he would not lose his place.

It was a tiny gesture, and most likely insignificant if it had been anyone else in the world. But this was Lily Evans.

Lily Evans who had just slaved away on this essay for hours. Lily Evans who, in the past, had completely rewritten essays for improper punctuation. Lily Evans who tended to be an obsessive perfectionist.

Lily Evans who had just torn off the beginning of all the words running down the left margin of her conclusion paragraph so that James Potter could have a bookmark.

She justified it in her mind though, because losing your place in a book is very annoying and James might not remember where he had left off.

It was perfectly justified.

Lily took the book and set it down on the table in front of the couch, she then softly took the glasses from James' face and held them gingerly so that she would not leave fingerprints on his lenses.

She subconsciously cleaned the lenses of his glasses on the hem of her shirt as smiled fondly at James when she saw that he had two marks on either side of his nose indicating that he had been wearing his glasses for quite some time.

Snapping back to reality, and realizing what she was doing, Lily quickly folded his glasses and set them down on top of his book, in close enough proximity that he would be able to find them quickly when he awoke.

After all, Lily knew that when James Potter didn't have his glasses, he was as blind as a bat. And she didn't want to inconvenience him by making them hard to find.

Shorty after, Lily found herself straightening out James' tie so that it didn't wrap around his neck but rather rested more or less where it was supposed to. She loosened the tie more than it already was, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, to prevent discomfort of course. As well as carefully slipping off his shoes and setting them on the floor by the edge of the couch.

For his maximum comfort, she thought. That's the reason I'm doing this.

It wasn't because she cared about him or anything. No not at all.

Lily gently lifted James' dangling leg back onto the couch and stepped back.

There, she thought. He should be much comfier now.

James looked as if he would wake up with less weird pains all over his body. Or at least Lily hoped he would.

Lily picked up her essay, turned back to the stairs, and began the ascent to the sixth year girls' dormitories. The stairs creaked slightly as she made her way up, thinking about the boy still sleeping by the couch.

Away from the immediate heat of the fire, a small shiver ran up Lily's spine that was not uncommon in the dead of January.

But Lily thought of James, and quickly started down the steps she had just climbed.

What if the the fire would extinguishes itself? Lily thought. He'll freeze.

And before she could remember that the house elves never let the fire go untended in the months of winter, Lily found herself grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the sleeping figure of James Potter.

Fortunately, he didn't stir, rather he smiled slightly in his sleep and made a movement Lily could only describe as snuggling into the blanket.

A sight which made Lily's heart melt.

Lily dawned a smile. A smile that could only be compared to the smiles that James would wear when Lily would sit by the fire and read, lost in her own world. (She'd never seen such a smile of course) But it was a smile that conveyed complete infatuation and udder admiration.

Lily sighed softly, and bent down so she was only inches away from James.

"Goodnight James," she whispered to him, softly enough though so he wouldn't wake.

And with the press of a soft kiss on his cheek, a kiss that couldn't even come close to expressing how deeply she cared for James, but a kiss that acknowledged the existence of such feelings, Lily left James, and made her way up to her dormitory, smiling the entire way.