James was angry and confused all at the same bloody time. He didn't want to go to this party, but the mere thought of Lily being there was the only thing that was provoking him to go. Partly due to the fact that she would be somewhat starkers. And the other half that because she would be starkers, the blokes there would be goggling at her. And that idea didn't sit well at all with James. In fact, it made him want to whack someone upside the head with his broom.
The wooden one, that is.
So very reluctantly, he had closed his journal and tossed it onto his bed. After running his hands through his hair a few times and rubbing at his eyes agitatedly, he began to undress, and located a pair of boxer briefs he would usually wear during Quidditch matches - they tended to work better for the sport itself. He chose the black pair because while he wasn't ashamed of his body at all, he didn't feel like having his 'package' hanging and bulging out all night, thanks.
James slunk himself into his normal black cloak, and made sure it was covering everything before exiting Gryffindor tower. He found himself quickly at the Room of Requirement, having located back in his first or second year - he really couldn't remember.
He slipped inside, and glanced around, a flash of red hair catching his eye. He cleared his throat in a nervous fashion (Honestly! James Potter? Nervous? Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the bane of his existence looked gorgeous right about now.) and tossed his cloak off, casting it onto a random chair, leaving him in only his clingy boxer-briefs, and his well toned body that he had developed after so many years of Quidditch.
He sidled himself up behind Lily, and then shifted to the side of her, his palm resting gently upon the small of her back. "You look amazing," he whispered confidently, "and I meant every word I said, Lily. It'll never be over, and that's a promise," he stated, and moved away from her to lean against an opposing wall.