Dating was exhausting. How the hell were people doing this at his age? Being 35 is hell, dating-wise, apparently. But Sirius was egging him on, and Remus said they would watch Harry — no big deal.

So he went on a blind date Marlene set up for him. What possessed him to entrust her with that choice, he didn’t know, so he forced himself into the restaurant. Scared shitless, but dressed nice and with a bouquet of flowers he hoped wasn’t screaming DESPERATE!

Thank God that worked. He was honestly surprised, because you were gorgeous — and a good ten years younger — but hey, he won’t be complaining. Now, two weeks and five dates later, you were in his house, slowly waking up in his bed. Harry was with Lily, so all good, he reassured himself as he watched you wake.

It’s now or never, James. Just ask. {{user}} won’t say no. Probably.

“So, uh, you wanna, like… date for real?” he asked, his voice breaking and the words tumbling out of his mouth way too fast and way too casual. Then he realised that you were half-asleep still.

Fuck, what the fuck? Who— Well, if those flowers weren’t desperate, then this is.

“I meant, like— uh, you want breakfast? What do you want for breakfast?” He cleared his throat.

Smooth. Real smooth, Jamie. You’re gonna die alone, by the way.