Post by cawilki on Jun 18, 2008 13:28:51 GMT -5
Name:Lily Evans
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Nickname: Evans, Lils
Appearance:
Other characters: None
Personality:
History:
Likes:
»potions
»her friends
»gryffindor
Dislikes:
«james potter's incessant flirting
«petunia and vernon
«severus snape-sometimes
Roleplay Example:
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Nickname: Evans, Lils
Appearance:
Other characters: None
Personality:
History:
Likes:
»potions
»her friends
»gryffindor
Dislikes:
«james potter's incessant flirting
«petunia and vernon
«severus snape-sometimes
Roleplay Example:
Lily shifted her head ever so slightly, staring up into James’ face. He looked odd without his usual glasses that framed his face. For a while she simply lay there, looking straight into his eyes, occasionally blinking. She absorbed the fact that he was still alive, he was here, she could see him, hear him, feel him. With regret, she lifted her head from his chest, leaning forward and ever so gently kissing him on the lips.
“I’m sorry for waking you.” She whispered, not wanting to break the peaceful diminuendo which had settled over the room since James last spoke. She meant it. The smile which played upon his lips told her he was having a good dream, well, a better dream then she had had.
She lay back on his chest, subconsciously curling around his torso, pressing her body as close to his as possibly, greedily taking the warmth he radiated. “I had a nightmare.” She told him honestly. It was rare for her to have a bad dream, in fact, it was rare for her to dream at all. She had always been frustratingly inadequate when it came to that sort of thing. Every morning she would awake, remembering nothing of what her mind had been processing during the night.
“Oh James it was awful! You-You-You” she stuttered, “You died!” She nuzzled his neck gently, burying her face in his masculinity, letting his scent empower her. “And that’s not just it, he did it. You know who. Voldemort.” She reiterated, sending a death glare at the nearest wall as she pictured those hideous red eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just wanted to know you were safe, I was worried. That and I wanted you to hold me.” She half grinned, absently rubbing his chest with her free hand as she pondered over the nightmare.
“I’m sorry for waking you.” She whispered, not wanting to break the peaceful diminuendo which had settled over the room since James last spoke. She meant it. The smile which played upon his lips told her he was having a good dream, well, a better dream then she had had.
She lay back on his chest, subconsciously curling around his torso, pressing her body as close to his as possibly, greedily taking the warmth he radiated. “I had a nightmare.” She told him honestly. It was rare for her to have a bad dream, in fact, it was rare for her to dream at all. She had always been frustratingly inadequate when it came to that sort of thing. Every morning she would awake, remembering nothing of what her mind had been processing during the night.
“Oh James it was awful! You-You-You” she stuttered, “You died!” She nuzzled his neck gently, burying her face in his masculinity, letting his scent empower her. “And that’s not just it, he did it. You know who. Voldemort.” She reiterated, sending a death glare at the nearest wall as she pictured those hideous red eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just wanted to know you were safe, I was worried. That and I wanted you to hold me.” She half grinned, absently rubbing his chest with her free hand as she pondered over the nightmare.