Yawning, he dragged a hand through his hair, his other arm wrapped around her waist as he led her up the stairs. They’d had enough time to dwell on the coming day; sleep was the only thing that would help them now. As they entered their room, he slid off his glasses, carefully putting them on the side table and taking off his shirt. A reddish blur told him Lily was already in bed, so he climbed in after her, pulling the covers up to keep warm. “Course it will. We’re prepared.” It was a moment before he replied to her, but he knew she needed the reassurance, just as much as he did. In a perfect world, she and James would stay home tomorrow evening, curled up much like they were tonight, without a war to worry about. But it was wishful thinking, and if they were right in the middle of the conflict, he would much rather stand up and fight than hide away, whatever the risk. “I love you, Lily.”
She waited for him to get comfortable, lying on her back and looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah,” she nodded slightly and turned her head to look over at him, wishing she could see inside his mind. Although she usually had a pretty good idea what he was thinking or feeling as she was so attuned to him, tonight she couldn’t help but wonder. Was he as worried as she was? More worried? Did he think about the possibility of them not returning home tomorrow night? Lily didn’t doubt herself very often, and she knew James didn’t either. On the Quidditch pitch, his confidence was palpable, as was hers any time she’d mastered a complex spell. But was he, as she was, wondering if perhaps this time confidence wouldn’t be enough? She rolled onto her side and reached over to stroke his hair back, deciding it best to keep all those questions to herself. “I love you, too,” she murmured distractedly. Perhaps it was thought of tomorrow, or the unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling of being unsure of herself, but Lily felt disconnected. Maybe, she thought, it was her body’s way of preventing her from breaking down in panic, or her natural tendency to hide her uncertainty, but she felt as though she was watching from far away. As though it wasn’t her in bed beside James, but a hologram or ghost. At times like this she was grateful for James’ terrible vision without his glasses, because there was not a doubt in her mind that, were he able to see her face clearly, he’d know the confidence in her voice was a lie.