Daniel

This was longer than I planned to write it. It's about 3100 UNEDITED words and I wrote it in about two hours. Maybe a little less.

Anyway, I'm kinda happy about how this went! By the way, all your comments on the last chapter was amazing! Thank you so much for taking the time to comment your thoughts. It means the world to me!

Just a thing I'm doing for this week, and THIS WEEK ONLY, if you want to be name-dropped in the story, comment below! (A/N at the end for more details.)

Like I said, this is UNEDITED!

Sarah, xx

~*~*~

I've never been one that likes waking up in an empty bed. From my days in boarding school and having always been in relationships, I've gotten used to waking up to noise, or at least another body in the room. This morning, however, I woke up in an empty bed in an empty house in a strange city. Blinking one eye open, I didn't expect to see Sophie next to me, considering we hadn't shared a bed, but I hadn't expected to wake up to an eerie quietness that fell over Sophie's magnificently large house.

When she brought me back to her townhouse yesterday afternoon, I was amazed to see where Sophie called home. I'd never been to her London place, so walking around her New York City residence was an eye opener for me. I wasn't sure what to expect but certainly not what I'd walked into. The entrance hall was was a light open space where a staircase came up from the lower floor and another heading to the upper floors. On the 'Parlour floor'- Sophie's pretentious words, not mine- was the living room and a dining room. Both rooms were large and spacious, the light coming in from the bay window and the feature window in the living room bathing the space in light. Just off the living room was a home office, not the Sophie used it.

Along one wall of the living room was countless shelving, decorated with books, vases and other trinkets. I couldn't help but smile at the collection of Harry Potter books that took up an entire shelf. There was no TV in this room. Instead, above the feature fireplace, was a painting. A long couch was placed in front of the shelving, two armchairs opposite the couch and a round table in the centre of the room. There wasn't much of a personal touch in the room, and downstairs in the kitchen and breakfast room wasn't much better.

It looked like your typical NYC type kitchen and rather sterile. Thankfully, we weren't in that room for long. Sophie, continuing her tour of her house, walked us up to the third floor of the house, where there were two bedrooms. Situated on opposite ends of the house, the bedroom to the right at the top of the stairs was the master bedroom. Sophie pushed the door open and showed me her favourite room in the house- the sunroom just off from her bedroom. There were a few armchairs in there, along with a small desk that house Sophie's laptop, and it was there that I got the real sense of who Sophie was.

On the coffee table next to her laptop was a coffee mug, still half full. There were crumpled up pieces of paper on the floor, a notebook and pen on one of the chairs, and a several fashion publications on the surface above the shelving. I could barely suppress the smile that lifted the corners of my lips when I saw that there were five photframes dotted around the room. One was of her and her sibling from when they were kids. Another was a family photo taken on Sophie's graduation day. Her face was still the same, physically, but in the picture, when she smiled, it reached her eyes and she looked beyond happy. Moving onto the next, it was a photo of her and Hugo, taken outside the Eiffel Tower. It must have been taken after Sophie's pregnancy because in this picture, when she smiled, it looked as if she was just going through the motions. The fourth frame held a photo of Sophie when she was on holiday. A straw hat was on her head and pulled down over her eyes, but you could see her smile peeking out from under the rim.

The final frame was the one I paused at for the longest time, even going so far as to pick it up and examine it a little more. It was a photo taken on her last day in London. If I'm not mistaken, it was taken on the photoshoot we did for her article on me. I was sat on a high chair, one foot on the ground while another balances on a rung. Sophie was stood between my legs, her hands on my shoulders. she was giving me a pep-talk at the time. My hands were on her waist and I was staring into her eyes as she smiled down at me. Her eyes were bright, smiling, vivid blue. She looked beautiful and radiant and utterly in love.

When I'd told her this, she simply gave me a coy smile and shrugged her shoulders, leaving her little haven and going back into the bedroom. It was decorated in a grey and lemon-lime colour scheme. The bed was huge! You could easily fit four people in there. I didn't make a comment about it, even though from the way Sophie paused and looked at me, she was expecting some sort of response. Instead, I bypassed her and opened a random closet door. To my surprise, there wasn't a walk-in-wardrobe in Sophie's bedroom, but she did have a neatly organised set up for all her clothes.

After a tour of Sophie's room, she walked me across the hall to my room. Don't get me wrong, there was nothing wrong with the guest room, except for the fact that it's the guest room. And it was a little too girly for my taste. The bed was high and had fluffy decorative cushions on it, for crying out loud. The top floor of the house, however, was a dream of a room. Large, bright and open planned, there was a huge corner sofa opposite a wall that had a massive flat screen TV mounted to it. My jaw dropped at seeing the room.

"Yeah, this is amazing," I'd announced at the time. Sending Sophie a wink, I'd rushed over to the sofa and threw myself on it, beckoning Sophie to me. She rolled her eyes, naturally, but that didn't stop her from joining me. Sitting down on my lap, she looped her arms around my neck and leaned in to give me a long, smouldering kiss. "You're making this really hard for me, Soph."

"Hard?" Came her reply, eyebrow raising at the choice of word. "Mr Whitaker, you must learn to control yourself."

I shook my head. "Can't. You're irresistible."

And she was. Now that she was in my life- or was I in hers?- I just wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Which is why, when I woke up this morning to a note on the kitchen counter, my heart dropped into my stomach slightly.

Had to go to work. Gutting, I know. Make yourself at home, babe. FYI, Jasmine will be coming around sometime this afternoon to make sure that everything is ok. Be nice to her! Sophie, xx

It was now just over midday and Jasmine had yet to make an appearance. Not that I was complaining because I was enjoying the TV on the fourth floor too much. I was catching up with the new Top Gear, with the new presenters, but for the life of me, whenever Matt LeBlanc came on screen, I kept yelling, 'How you doin'?' It was strange and I'm so glad that there was no one around to hear me.

The episode had only just finished when I heard the clacking of heels on a wooden surface. Turning to look at the stairs, I saw Jasmine appear, her face looking distinctly unimpressed when she saw me. Turning her nose up and folding her arms across her chest, she sighed.

"Are you still in your sleepwear?" She asked in her bored voice. When I nodded, she shook her head, took out her phone and text while speaking to me. "You better get dressed because I'm about to help you earn a thousand and one boyfriend brownie points. So, scoot. Go!"

Fifteen minutes later, I was showered, dressed and walking out of the townhouse, to see Jasmine leaning against a black car, sunglasses covering her eyes and still texting on her phone. Without looking up, she stepped away from the car and opened her door, sliding across the back seat. I followed her lead, pulling my belt around me as the diver started the engine. He manoeuvred into the moving traffic, quietly driving to a destination that Jasmine must have told him beforehand.

Eventually, we pulled up at an Italian restaurant, Mangia. "Sophie liked Italian," Jasmine explained as we walked through the door of the restaurant. Looking around, it struck me as a little strange that there was no one else here. Walking to the kitchen, Jasmine called at to me over her shoulder. "Come on, Dan. I've arranged for you to have private cooking lessons with Alessandra Camilleri. I cannot emphasise enough how hard it was to get him to agree to this. Don't embarrass me and make sure you master the dish because right now, I have an assistant stocking Sophie's refrigerator with authentic Italian ingredients for you to replicate today's lesson at home."

True to her word, Jasmine had arranged a private cooking lesson for me. Alessandro Camilleri was one of the 'hottest chefs in all of New York City,' and as such, he was a rather good cook. In the three hours I was there, he taught me how to make pasta ravioli from scratch, mix the filling, create the tomato based sauce and make garlic dough balls, all with fresh ingredients. The recipe was Mangia's famous ricotta, pancetta and quail's egg and a favourite of Sophie's. Apparently, she was a frequent visitor here and would always order the same dish.

Once Alessandro was happy that I'd mastered the dish, he sent me home with the recipe, insisting that I take a photo of my creation and send it to him. With the promise that I would, we shook hands and I left, trailing a sulking Jasmine back to the waiting car. While I'd been with MasterChef, Jasmine had sat in a corner of the kitchen, grumbling about the fact that she was stuck babysitting me.

"You know, I don't need you to hold my hand," I tell her when she sighs form the seven hundred and eight ninth time. "I lived in New York before, you know. I've even got a cousin that lives in the city. I think I can handle myself, Jasmine, so if you want to go back to your work at the office, rest assured, I will be fine."

"I'm under order to make sure that all your needs are being taken care of," Jasmine answers, locking her phone and shoving it into her handbag. "Well, not all your needs because I have standards-"

"You went on a date with my brother," I remind her, a smug smile on my face. "You have zero standards."

Holding up her index finger, she says, "One. Fuck you." Holding up her middle finger and turning it so that she's showing me a rude hand gesture, Jasmine says, "Two. You're Sophie's boyfriend so that makes you an instant no-go area. Three," she continues, this time not bothering to hold up any fingers. "You should have seen the goofy smile on her face this morning when I asked her how she was. She basically told me all about how you two hung out, made out and then didn't do anything and let me tell you something,it was sickening. Like, really, you two are vomit inducing. Even  hardcore rom-com fans would think you two are too sickly sweet. It's disgusting."

"She was goofy smiling?" I ask. It was basically the only part of her speech that I remembered. "So, she was happy?"

"Happy?" Jasmine scoffs. "Cherry, merry, joyful, gleeful, beaming, radiant, glowing... all the above. Man, I miss my miserable, kill-you-with-a-single-look best friend. Oh, those were the happy days."

Despite Jasmine's disgust at how happy Sophie was, and her reluctance to babysit me, she dutifully stayed with me the entire afternoon, even going so far as to don an apron and get stuck in as my sous chef. She was, to my surprise, a great chef. Better than I could ever be, our roles were soon reversed and while Jasmine went about making the ravioli dish, I was sat on the other side of the counter, casually drinking red wine and interrogating Jasmine about her and Samuel's budding romance.

"Ew, you sound like Hugh Grant in Notting Hill," Jasmine said, scrunching up her nose. "Budding romance. Who talks like that? But in answer to your question, my budding romance with Sam is going well. We had phone sex last night."

I stared at her momentarily. When it became obvious that she was not joking, I filled my wine glass to the brim and retreated to the top floor of the house, hoping that alcohol would help blot out the mental image I had of Jasmine and Sam.

It took a while, but eventually, I got over the fact that they... yeah. I got over it.

I got over it just in time for Sophie's return to the house. Jasmine had set up the dining room and had set out the servings on plates on the table, one plate at the head of the table and the second to the right.

Greeting Sophie at the door, I wrapped her in a warm, lingering hug, savouring the way her body fit against mine. She was definitely the last jigsaw piece that completed my life. Pulling away, I bet down to plant a tantalising kiss on her lips, giving her a preview of what would come later.

"I could totally get used to coming home to that type of welcome," Sophie teased as she kicked off her shoes and dropped her bag near the door. "Something smells really good. Did you cook?"

So, this pains me to admit, but Jasmine was absolutely right about me earning boyfriend brownie points by cooking up one of Sophie's favourite meals. Her eyes widened at seeing the meal and she was beyond excited about getting stuck in. She barely waited for me to sit before she took her first mouthful of ravioli. She moaned and I swear I completely lost my fucking mind.

"Um, Soph?" I said, hooking my fingers under the collar of my shirt and trying to tug it away. My throat was closing in and I could barely breathe. "Can you not make that noise? It's extremely distracting."

Just for kicks, she made the noise again. "I have no idea what you're taking about."

"Of course you don't," I grumbled, setting my fork down against the plate.

Looking over at her, I couldn't help but take all of her in. Her hair had grown longer in the time she'd been here and it was a shade darker than before. It contrasted with her azul eyes,making them pop against her skin. She had become a little skinnier since I last saw her and her collarbone jutted out more than it should. The dress she wore emphasised her slender frame and stopped just under her knees, somehow making her look taller than she was. Sophie didn't have much make up on, letting her natural beauty shine through. Her skin was glowing and the way her lips moved when she smiled make my own turn upwards into a smile.

"You're not even listening to me," Sophie comments as a matter of fact.

"Nope," I say, leaning in to steal a kiss. Seeing that her plate was empty, I grab the opened bottle of wine and motion for Sophie to follow me up to the top floor of the house. Leading her to the sofa, I take a seat and angle myself so that I was facing Sophie, who sat next to me. "Sophie-"

"Full name, huh?" She says uneasily. "That's never a good thing."

"Now you're the one who isn't listening to me," I tell her, unable to stop the smirk from appearing on my lips. Raising a hand, I twirl a strand of her hair around my finger, mesmerised by how silky smooth her hair is. "We always said that when we were finally together, we'd talk about the whole Skype fiasco." I pause to gauge her reaction, but she just gives a wan smile and nods her head ever so slightly. "I jumped to all the wrong conclusions about why you weren't reciprocating my feelings and it wasn't until it was too late that I realised that I never gave you the chance to tell me how you felt. So, before I make another monumental fuck up of us, let's lay our cards out on the table. Are we on the same wavelength?"

Sophie frowns. "On the same wavelength? You're asking me this now?" She laughs lightly, leaning in closer to me. "Daniel, you idiot, did you not hear me tell you, only twenty-four hours ago, that I love you? Anyway, I thought we'd established that I was as much to blame for the whole thing as you were."

"So," I whistle out slowly, looking down at where Sophie interlinks her fingers with mine. "Does this mean that we're... official? Like, Sophie Evangeline Clément Delaney-"

"Go this is serious!" She jokes. I give her a stern look and she immediately sobers up. "Sorry. Continue."

Shaking my head at her playfulness, I manage to spit out the words that I'd been longing to say. "Will you be my girlfriend, Sophie?"

A quietness falls over the room. Terrified of her reaction, I can't bring myself to look Sophie in the eye. Not that I could, because within seconds of asking, Sophie threw herself at me, squealing in my ear. "You took your bloody time! Of course I'll be your girlfriend!"

"Oh, thank fuck for that," I grumble, wrapping my arms around her waist so that she doesn't fall. Holding her close to me, I felt my body react to the way that she moved, the way that her breath tickled my neck, the way that her lips grazed my jawline. "Um... Sophie?"

"Mhm?" She murmurs into my ear.

"Um... you're kinda... uh..." I mumble, not sure how I could broach the subject, but from the way Sophie gives me a knowing look when she pulls away from me, I can tell she already knows where this is headed. If the come-hither eyes weren't enough of a give away, the way she reached her hands behind her back and pulled down the zip of her dress was certainly an indication of where this is headed. "Shouldn't we take this to the bedroom?"

Sophie grins, jumping to her feet and walking to the top of the stairs. "Race you there," she says, bolting out of sight.

~*~*~

A/N

Where will tomorrow's update take us?

Ok, so back to this name-dropping thing!

Basically, if you want to be a character in "Hello", this is your chance.

All I ask is that you give me a name (yours or make one up). If it's an unfamiliar name to me, can you add if it's a male or female name! I Googled someone's name earlier and the search results said it is a masculine name, but she was a girl, so... I don't trust Google!

Secondly, give me an idea of what you want your character to be like- shy, outgoing? Writer, actor? Blonde, red-head? That sort of thing.

I'm only doing this this week because it's Emma's wedding in Saturday's update, so those of you who want to be a character will end up being a wedding guest.

Any takers? COMMENT HERE!!!

You have until Friday night to let me know because that's when I'll be writing the Saturday update! (Depending on how much I've written, I might consider some that comes to me by midday Saturday, GMT.)

So, yeah.

Sarah, xx