You always studied. You felt the need to be perfect. You're a Ravenclaw. You needed to be smart. And the countless nights James would try to make you take a break or just stay with you through the night so you wouldn't feel lonely. He wouldn't care if he had Quidditch the next day. He needed to make sure you at least got some sleep.

You couldn't help it. The pressure and need to feel perfect. To be perfect. It was exhausting. You would have breakdowns sometimes. And he would be there.

Once again, he sits next to you in the library. Elbow resting on the table and head in his palm as he stares at you. Books covering the table in front of you as you mutter about something "Darling, take a break." He moves your hair out of your face. "It needs to be perfect." You repeat for the fifth time that hour. He sighs softly and closes your book.