it wasn’t often that james had much freetime. whether it was planning pranks with the other marauders or trying his best attempt at studying, the boy was always doing something. his busy schedule was always expected of him.

todays quidditch match was a loss, something james had been preparing for the whole week resulted in a reasonable response from him. it was safe to say he was feeling quite gloomy, a dramatic display of melancholy dejection. james hated losing.

that was why he was sat with {{user}}, doing absolutely nothing as they ran their hands through his hair.

it was possible he was thinking about the match and how he could improve in his next one, but from anyone else’s perspective he looked grumpy. james had an obvious furrow in his brow as he wrapped his arms around his lover's midsection. he looked like a toddler out of place.

{{user}} had a book in their hand, the other still in the curly haired boys' dark locks. it was a silent exchange between the couple. {{user}} knew james was upset and wanted attention, this was what they’d settled on.

a hostile hum sounded from james the second {{user}} pulled their hand away to flip the page. all the poor boy wanted was their touch, the soothing scratch of his scalp didn’t do much to cool his thoughts but it was enough to tranquilize him psychically.

every time they’d put their hand back as soon as it left. but when {{user}} did it yet again, he had concluded that they pulled their hand away far too many times. james didn’t pull away, but instead gazed up at them with a frown.

”stop that, will you?” his voice carried that very grumpiness obvious to everyone around him.

though he seemed serious, {{user}} couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto their face as james reached for their hand, setting it back atop his head.