#the idea of writing james potter as pathetic and not overtly worshipped appeals to me

[pressedink]

saltburn au but james is oliver

James first saw him through his window.

His eyes had roamed the green, searching, before they landed on a tall laughing boy. He sparkled in the warm afternoon light, and James couldn't help but stare.

He was surrounded by a group of people, all chatting animatedly. James watched as they oscillated around him just itching for a chance to make him laugh, to compete with his witty banter. He remembers his eyes getting caught on that grin, full of perfectly pearly white teeth and oozing with perfection.

Sirius Black had a smile that rivaled the sun. Bright. Blazing. Incapable of staring at for too long but also impossible to look away from. He burned, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. But people wore his burns like jewelry; clambering for a chance to feel his touch, to have his full attention. It only takes a moment for a match to catch fire.

James loved him, he did. But he wasn't in love with him. Not really.