As James lay on the couch on the morning after his argument with Lily he couldn't help but wonder how the bloody hell they had managed to make such a huge deal out of things and how he had actually voluntarily forfeited his bed to sleep on that bumpy couch! Who'd picked out that thing, anyway? Everything now seemed like a blur and blown ridiculously out of proportion. Unlike Lily, he hadn't been able to read the conversation again. He knew better than to allow whatever stupid feelings he'd had that night resurface. Though he was sure he could remember staying calm for a small period of time before Lily had managed to hit a nerve.

Rolling his eyes James got off the couch and went to the kitchen to make himself some coffee, careful to leave enough for when she came down later. Then, still with a hot mug in his hands, he went upstairs to retrieve his towel and toothpaste.

Though he had opened the door carefully, expecting his wife to still be sleeping (it wasn't even seven in the morning yet!) Lily appeared to have only just finished with a shower, her hair was wet and her figure was wrapped around a towel. James glanced at her once and then at his coffee mug, glad of the fact that he had something on his hands to occupy himself with.

"Hi." he muttered, before walking into the bathroom to get his things. The first sodding time in the history of our relationship that she's up before me, and we are on monosyllable word terms again...