Cherries

The title for this update will become clear at the end.

NOTE- The ending to this chapter wasn't how I originally was going to write it, but as I typed, it happened rather organically, so don't hate me for it.

I will, at some point, publish Sophie's article on Daniel. I've been going on and on about it for weeks so I may as well write it!

Ok, ready for the (unedited) chapter? Warning, Sophie does not prank Daniel. But Daniel does get to prank Sophie. It's all very tame tough. Song at the end!

Sarah xx

P.S. Anyone know someone that's amazing with creating covers that I can beg and plead with to make one for me? I think my stories are in need of a facelift. If you know someone super talented (and by that, I mean someone who does more than just put a Pinterest photo as a cover- I do that!) comment here please! Thanks, my loves.

Oh, this photo may seem random, but this is Daniel's kitchen and I have major kitchen envy.

~*~*~ Daniel ~*~*~

Ok, Daniel. You can do this.

It was the same mantra I'd been using all week, but no matter how much I told myself that I could do this, survive the photo shoot, I don't think I'll be able to. Not so much for the fact that I'd have to get dressed up and have my photo taken. That would be a breeze. No, what turned my insides was the fact that there was finality to it all.

Today was Sophie's last day in London and tomorrow, she'd be jetting half way across the world on a one-way ticket. I've known for weeks that this day would come but not even knowing about it had prepared me for it. At least there was one silver lining- she wanted to spend her last day with me. I'm sure that doesn't mean much to her; to me, it means everything.

Sunday had been horrific. Good, but also a horrible mistake. My feelings for Sophie have only intensified in recent weeks, despite knowing that she'd soon be gone, but Sunday only showed me how much she meant to me and how much I was going to miss her. It's part of the reason that I'm dreading today so much. Then, to make matters worse, Sophie came over on Monday to hang out with Nola and I.

Nola, my god-daughter, took to Sophie instantly. It was amazing to see how both girls just fell into a comfortableness that seemed to have always existed between them. It was as if they had always known each other, not having just met.

For most of the day, it had just been Nola and I. Elias was supposed to have her but he'd cancelled last minute to go and visit family in Scotland. In a bind, Jenna- Nola's mum- called to see if I wouldn't mind babysitting. Naturally, I jumped at the chance. Cue a day of watching lots of Disney films while Nola painted my nails and applied make up on my eyelids. I wouldn't have done it for anyone else, but when a six year old start batting their eyelashes your way and pouting, you give in pretty quickly. I'd had my face slathered in all sorts of make up- twice, might I add- and one hand had painted nails, when Sophie called for our daily chat. With Nola listening in, it was hard to talk, especially when my god-daughter started sprouting stuff that she'd heard me and Jenna discuss.

Note to self, children hear everything and they're not afraid to repeat it to inflict excruciating embarrassment upon you.

You can do this, Daniel. You. Can. [Not] Do. This.

A quick time check shows that I'm five minutes early, which is pretty standard for me. I hate it when people are late and ever since I can remember, I've always made it good practice to arrive early. It's in complete contrast to Sophie- she's always five minutes late, but at least today she should already be here.

Walking up to the building, I frown at how dilapidated it looks. According to Sophie, it's a 'studio' of some sort and looks nicer on the inside than it does on the outside. I push the door open onto a bright lobby that's dominated by a large desk, behind which a petite blonde sits. She eyes me curiously when I enter, and after a quick body scan, she smiles my way.

"May I help you?" The girl, who can't be more than twenty, asks. There's no missing the flirtatious lilt in her voice, either.

"I'm looking for Sophie Clément," I say, noticing the way the girl's eyes widen at the mention of Sophie. The poor girl looks terrified and I can't help but laugh at the reaction. "It's ok," I reassure her. "She scares most people."

The girl nods and gulps audibly. "Yeah, she does," her voice shakes slightly although she tries to mask it with a small laugh. "I'll just phone up to let them know that you've arrived, Mr Whit- erm, Earl? Sir? Lord?"

"Daniel is fine," I say, slightly embarrassed at how the girl seemed so nervous of my title.

She nods and picks up the handset of the futuristic phone that's on her desk. She whispers her words, but I still catch the 'He's here,' part of the conversation. Within seconds of the girl replacing the handset to the cradle, two young women rush down the stairs and fight for dominance as they push their way through the doorway. The first to stand before me looks at me in awe while the second simply shakes her head and steps forward, her hand extended.

"Christina Ashby," she introduces herself as. "I'm Miss Clément's intern-slash-assistant."

"You're Kizzy?" I ask. When she nods suspiciously, I reach out to shake her hand, letting go a few seconds later. "I'm Daniel. Sophie's mentioned you before."

"Well, she's mentioned you before, too," Kizzy laughs as she turns and starts to lead the way up the stairs. I follow, with the second girl trailing behind me. As Kizzy walks, she talks. "Sophie's been really paranoid about this shoot, more so than some of the others I've accompanied her on. I've lost count on how many times she's double checked everything and our photographer is on the verge of a breakdown the way she keeps looking over his shoulder to check that the lighting is perfect."

Sounds about right for Sophie. "Don't worry, I'll have a word with her," I laugh as we walk through a door that leads into a bright studio. I look around, taking everything in, seeing stark white walls everywhere while camera equipment dominates the middle of the room. Off to the right, there's a large mirror and a small table with lots of make up and several cans of hairspray. The woman next to the table smiles and waves at me. There's another woman, holding different shades of blue jeans, that stops her conversation midway with a man who gives me a wide-eyed look. I scan the room, looking for the wildcat that is Sophie Clément, and just as Kizzy had said, she was hovering over the photographer's shoulder, asking him several questions that he simply ignored. Ignoring everyone else, I head over to where Sophie has her back to me, wrapping my arm around her shoulder as soon as possible. "C'mon, Soph. Leave the poor guy alone."

Sophie yelps slightly at my touch before she spins to look at me. In one swift, fluid motion, she stands on her tiptoes and reaches up to give me a hug. "Thank God you're here!" She says, letting out a long, deep breath. I steady her frame by moving my arms to her waist and tug her to me, enjoying the hug more than I should be. "I am going insane."

I move away from her, breaking out of the hug while remaining in contact with her waist. "How many times, Soph? You're already insane."

A gasp comes from behind us and we both turn to see the woman with the jeans staring at us, her jaw hanging open. It was funny for me to see and I could only imagine what I'd done to deserve such a reaction out of her. I'm guessing not many people have the balls to stand up to Sophie Clément and call her insane to her face, but I'm not like that. I'm the Dan to her Phie.

With a well timed glare from Sophie, the woman turns bright red and goes back to doing whatever her job is. "Ok, maybe 'insane' wasn't the right word to use. Neurotic, perhaps, would be more fitting," Sophie smiles at me. Moving out of my grasp, she turns to introduce me to the various people in the room, beginning with the photographer. "This is Pierre Roussel, our photographer for the day."

"Bonjour," I say to him, hoping to dazzle him with my very basic knowledge of the French language. It was better than nothing and most French people rather liked it when I made the effort when Sophie and I were in Paris.

"I'm not French," came the reply in a thick East London accent. "Pierre Roussel is just a professional name. You can call me Pete. Excuse me, I've got to double and triple check that my lighting is up to standard."

The attitude in his voice was clear and aimed directly at Sophie, not that she cared. She rolled her eyes and mouthed 'Pete' at me in a sarcastic manner. "Pretentious prick," she grumbled under her breath. Turning to the others in the room, she pointed to Kizzy first. "The intern. Maisie is the photographer's assistant," Sophie said, pointing at the girl that had accompanied Kizzy to greet me. Pointing towards the woman with the jeans, Sophie said, "Zara, the wardrobe assistant. Brody is my go-to guy in wardrobe back at Vogue and we've got lots of clothes for you to choose from-"

"Except, when you say that I get to choose from," I tease, looking at Sophie. "You mean there are lots of clothes that you're going to choose for me."

"Naturally," she smiles, looking down at what I was wearing today. It was the same pair of jeans she's brought for me to wear on Sunday, but the shirt was one I had picked out, although not too dissimilar to the one she'd chosen from Topman. "Obviously you like my taste. Finally, that ridiculously talented creature over there-" Sophie points at the woman near the make up table. "-That's Quinn and she's a magician with what she can do. Remember how amazing I looked for the Elle Style Awards all those weeks ago? That was all thanks to Quinn."

"Hello," I say, waving in the general direction of everyone around us.

Sophie suddenly leapt to work, ordering people around as she clapped her hands. They all moved in military fashion, too scared to disobey Sophie, and soon the studio was abuzz with noise as preparations went into overdrive. Grabbing my hand in hers, Sophie pulled me towards Quinn, who styled my hair and put a thin layer of make up on my face. I was in Quinn's seat for barely ten minutes before she shooed me off, stating that I was her easiest client for months, if not years.

"You're just naturally handsome," she said, catching her words too late. She blushed and quickly looked in Sophie's direction. Thankfully, Sophie was deep in conversation with Brody and Zara. "You're done, by the way."

I thanked her and went towards the wardrobe where Brody started to throw random items of clothing my way. A pair of jeans- Dolce & Gabbana, the label read- a t-shirt from Tom Ford and a shirt from Balenciaga all came my way as Sophie pushed me behind a partition with the order to 'get changed.'

This to and fro with the clothes went on for at least twenty minutes, each outfit I put on being labelled too this or too that by both Sophie and Brody. I must have tried on three pairs of jeans- which, to me, all looked the same- before Brody announced that the first pair I'd tried were the better ones. I tried not to roll my eyes, but internally, I did. However, the whole shirt situation was proving more difficult. They tried t-shirt after t-shirt, shirt after shirt, and sweater after sweater, but nothing worked.

"Ok, let's have a look at this shirt," Brody said, clapping his hands as a sign for me to come out from hiding from behind the partition. He frowned at seeing the top. "Shame, it was Balmain, too."

"Take it off," Sophie instructed, stepping closer to me and tugging the hem of the t-shirt up before she completely took it off me, leaving me shirtless in front of everyone. I heard someone sigh, as did Sophie if the dark look she sent Maisie, the photographer's assistant. "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

"Sophie," I worriedly laughed, unsure if she was simply being sarcastic or actually inviting the twenty-something blonde to actually take a photo. Lowering my voice, I pleaded with her. "Find me a shirt to wear, right now!"

"Relax," Sophie smiled disarmingly at me. "Have you seen your abs lately? Those early morning squash sessions are paying off."

She winked.

Ah, fuck's sake.

I took in a deep, steadying breath, closing my eyes as I tried to get rid of the image of Sophie winking at me. When I could finally, almost, put it to the back of my mind, I opened my eyes and reached out for the closest top I could find. In my haste, I picked up a grey V-neck t-shirt, the short sleeves tight around my bicep.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about," Brody smirked as he saw what I wore. "You look great. Not sarcasm, by the way. I like a man with a hairy chest."

"Stop perving," Sophie snapped, shooing him away with a look that could kill him painfully and instantly. Her eyes softened when she turned to me, her hot gaze burning me as she took in what I was now wearing. "Not what I would have chosen but... you do look pretty... good."

"The height of compliments there, Soph," I laugh, heading back towards where the photographer, Pete, waits. "Right, where do you want me?"

The next hour passed in a blur, a mix of wardrobe changes and make up retouches. Pete, despite being a slightly pretentious prick, wasn't all that bad. His instructions were clear, although Sophie's weren't.

"Look this way. Chin down. Eyes up. A little to the left. No, more to the right. I said chin up!"

Eventually, I gave up. "I'm going to the bathroom," I announced, walking towards the door, only to realise that I had no idea where I was going. "Uh, Kizzy, where is the bathroom?"

"I'll show you," Kizzy smiled at me, opening the door and walking down the hallway. As we walked, I noticed that she had a Sharpie tucked into the back pocket of Kizzy's skinny leather trousers. When we stopped at a door, Kizzy spun and gave me a weird look. "Are you done staring at my arse?"

"I wasn't staring at your behind," I insist, standing taller as I pulled my shoulders back. Clearing my throat, I explain more. "You have a Sharpie in your pocket. May I lend it?"

Although confused by my request, Kizzy handed me the black inky pen. Stepping inside the unisex bathroom, I pulled at the paper roll, doodling black spiders onto the white sheets. It was a simple prank and it would only work if Sophie was the next to come in here, but it would be worth it to see the look on her face. Pretending to wash and dry my hands, I smile sadistically at my handy work before heading back to the studio.

"Oh, thank God you're back," Sophie practically shouted before she bolted for the door.

Oh, no way! Was she actually going to the bathroom? Maybe luck was on my side today.

While we waited, I insisted that Pete carry on with the shoot, posing in silence until a loud shriek echoed into the studio, followed by Sophie screaming.

"Daniel!" She yelled in fear. Then there was silence, no doubt realisation setting in as Sophie concluded who was responsible. "I am going to kill you, you arsehole!" That's when a furious looking Sophie came running through the door, a murderous look on her face. "Spiders? Really? Oh, just you wait!"

"Haha," I laughed, holding onto my guts as I doubled over. "Your face! Happy April Fool's Day, Sophie."

"Fuck you," she huffed, going to sit in the corner, one leg crossed over the other, glaring at me. When I smiled warmly at her, she flashed me her middle finger. "Don't pretend to be nice to me now. Just remember, I still have my prank to play on you. Fear me, Whitaker."

There was something about her tone- cold- that sent a shiver down my spine. With hindsight, I should probably have let Sophie prank me first, but it's too late for that. As the photo shoot progressed, my nervousness increased. It didn't help that Sophie, while scribbling notes down in a thick, black leather notebook, kept shooting me dark glares from under her dark eyelashes. Sometimes, Sophie would smile at me, luring me into a false sense of security only to then bring her hand up and do the whole 'I'm watching you' motion with her index and middle finger.

"Ok, if you just sit naturally and pose," Pete instructed, without moving the camera away from his face.

I sat on the box, the only prop we'd had throughout the shoot, and crossed my arms, getting ready to look off into the distance when a small movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. It was Sophie, uncrossing her legs, giving me another narrow eyed look, her blue eyes the colour of steel. Today, she wore a black skirt that fitted her like a glove and a red top that was sleeveless. On her feet, she wore a pair of black heels with red soles. I couldn't help but think she looked damned sexy in those shoes. Sophie cleared her throat, making me look up at her. Suddenly, she poked her tongue out at me and laughed. I couldn't help the smile that broke out on my face.

"And that's a wrap," Pete announced a mere second after the shutter sounded. He handed his camera off to Maisie, his assistant, before stepping onto the set and shook my hand. "It was a pleasure working with you, Daniel. It's good to know that there's at least one person who knows how to tame the Kraken."

"I heard that," the Kraken- I mean, Sophie- grumbled from her self-imposed time out in the corner. "If we're done, Daniel and I have things to do. And by that, I mean- I have a prank to play and Daniel has to fear me. Now, let's go. It's my last day and we're going to have fun. Starting by going to the Battersea Dogs Home."

She stalked away, disappearing out the door, missing my question, even though I shouted loud and clear. "Dogs Home?"

~*~*~ Sophie ~*~*~

"What about this one?" I ask, cooing over an Alaskan Malamute that was currently wagging its tail at me.

Daniel and I had been walking around Battersea Dogs and Cats Home for the last twenty minutes, but as of yet, I was the only one interested in seeing the canines. When I didn't get a response- again- I turned to face Daniel and planted my fists against my hips, sending him an annoyed look.

"No," Daniel answered, barely looking at the dog. "Tell me for the eleventh time why we're getting a dog?"

"Because you're a dog person," I say, shrugging my shoulders and moving onto the next pen, where a Border Collie sits in a corner, hardly bothered by another stranger walking past his pen. "He looks sad."

Last night, I came to the conclusion that Daniel needed a form of companionship. As I went through my notes, something obvious came to light- Daniel has always lived with someone. His family, his boarding roommates, his university roommates and friends, Elias for a brief period, and then Arabella. These past few months since his break up, he's been living on his own for the first time in thirty years. It's probably why he's become such a workaholic. Evie had told me there were some nights where he'd be in the office until midnight, going home, only to wake up five hours later to do the same routine all over again. That's not a life for him; he needs to get out, socialise, and have something worth going home to.

A dog could just be that.

A young Beagle was the next dog that I fell in love with, but Daniel nixed that idea too. He also dismissed the Cocker Spaniel I pointed out, the Labrador that was unbelievably cute and the Jack Russell Terrier I showed Daniel, he turned his nose up at.

"Oh, look, a Pug," Daniel commented as we wandered past another pen. "What about him?"

I gave him a deadpan look. "No," I said, pulling at his arm and walking him away from the dog. We were getting nowhere with our search, so I stopped and turned to look at him. "Ok, look. We're getting a dog, Daniel. Now, what are your preferences? Big dog, small dog? Old dog, young dog?"

"Small," Daniel finally speaks, giving his opinion at last. "If Nola's around the house, I'd rather get a small dog that won't overpower her. Naturally, the dog needs to be child friendly, so I would imagine an older dog would be more suitable. Preferably male. Does that help?"

"Actually," the male worker- Greg- pipes in. Having trailed us since our arrival, Greg had been trying to steer us at this dog and that dog, but Daniel had shaken his head at every suggestion. Now, it seems, Greg had a potential dog that fit the criteria Daniel had stated. "I think I have just the right dog for you. Alfred, a Border Terrier. He's been here for a few months so he's a little shy and disheartened. He's about six years old but full of life. His previous family couldn't afford him anymore, so they sent him here."

I nodded enthusiastically as Greg spoke, following him through to the next shelter where older dogs were housed. The dogs in here were quieter than the previous shelter, the animals barely raising their heads as we walked towards one particular pen at the opposite end of the shelter. Greg stopped at the gate and waved me forward to inspect the dog.

He was an older gentleman, that much I gathered at first glance. He was a typical Border Terrier in his appearance, and downright cute, even if I did say so myself. There was sadness in his eyes that broke my heart and I knew that this was the right dog for Daniel. Both had emotional scars they had to heal from and hopefully Daniel's commitment would bring stability and happiness to Alfred's life, while Alfred's presence in Daniel's life would bring him the companionship that he needed.

"Daniel," I usher him forward quietly so as not to spook Alfred. "This is the one. Come see."

Greg opened the pen and allowed me to walk inside. I crouched down, as best I could in a skirt, and cooed the dog forward. Daniel, meanwhile, stood back and watched as the dog slowly got to his feet and inched closer to me, nuzzling his nose tentatively into the palm of my outstretched hand. When Alfred was no longer threatened by my presence, I reached out my hand and gently rubbed at his ear, watching as he angled his head so that I could scratch at the back of his ear. I giggled when Alfred flopped down, rolling over onto his back and his tongue poked out at the side of his mouth. I patted his belly and giggled as he started to wiggle under my touch.

Daniel stepped into the pen, coming to crouch at my side, looking at the dog closely. Slowly, and with a lot of coercion from yours truly, Daniel began to lavish attention on the dog, a slow, lazy smile breaking out across his face as Alfred jumped up at him and licked his cheek. It was cute to watch the connection form between them and when Daniel flashed me a wide grin, I knew.

Turning to Greg, I smile. "Can you get the paperwork in order? We're taking him."

"Alfred!" Daniel laughed manically when the dog managed to climb onto Daniel's lap, paws hooked over his shoulder and tail wagging like there's no tomorrow. Daniel threw me another smile, full of sincerity. "Thank you."

Reluctantly, Daniel and I had to leave Alfred behind as Greg took us into the office to get the paperwork filled out. I paid the rehoming fee, despite Daniel's protests, and half an hour later, Daniel had a home visit appointment arranged for Monday afternoon. It was the usual process for a dog that was being rehomed and Greg reassured us that it was merely a formality. Still, it panicked Daniel enough that, having left Battersea Home, we went to the nearest pet store to stock up on essentials.

"Ok, should I get him a bed, a pen or a kennel?" Daniel asked as he perused the aisle. Not waiting for my answer, he started rambling to himself. "He'll sleep inside, of course, so perhaps a kennel isn't necessary. I'll get him a run pen for the garden- once I move to the new house- so let's add that to the list." He reached for his phone and pulled open the 'Notes' app, swiftly tapping in his shopping list. "Maybe I'll get him a crate, just in case. Oh, look, that bed looks rather fluffy."

And so it went, as we meandered around the shop, looking at beds, blankets, bowls, grooming supplies, collars and leads, toys and dog foods and treats. Eventually, the boot of my car was filled with supplies that I'm sure Alfred would love, although Daniel's bank account would loathe to see the cost. Dogs are not cheap. I tried to pay for the entire trolley of goods, but Daniel waved me off and insisted that he pay for everything.

"I'm starved," Daniel announced as I drove us back to the north side of the Thames River. We were a few minutes from Daniel's place when he instructed me east, away from his current address. "Let's go to the new house and grab food on the way."

Daniel had been in the process of purchasing a house and the deal went through last week. He'd picked up the keys on Tuesday and was rather excited about me seeing the property before I left for New York. He'd been planning on buying near his current flat, but when that deal fell through, he found a house in Central London.

We stopped at a Chinese restaurant to order lunch before I followed his instructions to the new house, turning down a quiet street. Driving until Daniel told me to stop, I looked up at the name plaque on one of the buildings.

"Ennismore Street?" I ask, reading the new address. "Wait, this is Knightsbridge. You're moving here?"

"In a couple of weeks, yeah," Daniel nodded. "Turn here onto Ennismore Mews and I'll buzz open the garage."

Daniel fished in his pocket for a set of keys, holding out a small box keychain. When I slowly took the turn, Daniel placed a hand on my arm, signalling me to stop. He pressed the button on the box on his keychain and the black garage door opened upwards. I pulled forward, angling the car so that I could reverse into the bay, pulling on the handbrake when I was within the confines. With another press on the button, the garage door lowered.

"There's a door here that takes us inside," Daniel told me as he jumped out of the car. Walking to the door, he slid the key in the lock and turned, opening the door onto a sleek white hallway. The door to my left was ajar, and I noticed all the shelving inside. "That's the study. The door ahead of you is a bathroom and if we go across the hall," he smiled, leading the way. My heels clicked against the marble floor, echoing around the space. Pushing open a double glass door, Daniel motioned around the room. "Kitchen and dining area. There isn't a formal dining room but I figured that I don't need one."

Leading me up the staircase, I slipped my shoes off at the bottom, and followed Daniel up to the first floor where the living room and the master bedroom are. I tried not to gawp at the master bedroom, but I took notice of the space that Daniel would be sleeping in. It was large enough for a king size bed and had a lot of closet space, not to mention a bloody great huge bathroom dominated by a tub big enough to be a London bus!

"That's like a swimming pool," I commented as I gestured to the bath.

"Not quite," Daniel shrugged. "If you want a swimming pool, there's one in the basement."

I rolled my eyes at him but Daniel simply smiled and walked away. "Wait, you actually have a swimming pool in the basement?"

After touring the upper parts of the house and seeing the two guest bedrooms on the second floor, we descended the stairs and went to the lower ground floor to see a fourth bedroom as well as a home cinema room and the wine cellar. I practically salivated over the wine store, needing to stop myself from pressing my nose against the glass casing of the door. I don't think Daniel would appreciate the smudges. Eventually, Daniel took me down to the basement, opening a heavy door onto the blue space. True to his word, there was indeed a swimming pool in the basement, but also a hot tub and a steam room.

"I am so moving in here," I announce as I tiptoe towards the pool, skimming my hand through the warm water. Daniel laughs. "I'm not even joking. I am so moving in here!"

"I never said you couldn't," Daniel says, his voice utterly serious. My heart beats faster as Daniel approaches, standing next to me by the pool. "But just for you to know, if you move in, I won't ever let you leave."

"Hotel California style, huh?" I tease him, turning to face the most intense green eyes I've ever seen in my entire life. No matter how many times I see Daniel's eyes, I'll never get over their unique colour. Nor would I want to; I could stare at them all day and still not have my fill of them. Without realising it, I slowly inched towards him, my eyes travelling down to his lips, wondering how they would taste. I bet they're sweet, like cherry or mango. I'll be screwed if they tasted like cherries. Forcing myself to snap out of my daze, I pull back and motion to the pool. "No pool parties while I'm away."

"Sophie-"

"I'm starving," I say quickly, rushing back to the door and taking the stairs two by two. Thanking God I was fit enough to get back the ground floor without needing to double over, panting, I shake my head at my stupidity. Now is not the time to be thinking about kissing him, I scold myself. Actually, never think about kissing him. You're friends. That's all. Needing to put further distance between us, I got to the car and bring in the Chinese take-out we'd picked up. As I walked back to the kitchen, I spot Daniel leaning against the counter, his hot gaze on me, making my insides burn. "Hungry?"

Daniel nods. "There should be some plates around here," he says, his voice affected by something that I can't place my finger on. It's hoarse, like he hasn't drunk water in days. The guttural sound has my stomach fluttering, imagining the way my name would sound in that rasping tone. "Sophie?"

Oh, no.

"Yes?" I answer, keeping my eyes on the counter in front of me while trying to control my breathing. Maybe being shut away between four walls wasn't such a good idea. Should have eaten in the restaurant and then stayed outside. In public. Where I wouldn't be tempted to jump on Daniel. Daniel snaps his fingers in front of my eyes, making me jump and almost knock the plates from his hands. "Shit, sorry. Why do you even have plates here? I thought you weren't moving in for another few weeks."

"Gradual moving," Daniel says, picking up the bag of food and walking towards the table. He sets the two plates down next to each other and points to the chair that was for me. "There were some things still in boxes from when I moved out in January, so they came here on Wednesday. The rest, I'll pack over the weekend as a distraction."

Shuffling my chair under the table as I sat, I started to share out the food we ordered, placing Daniel's cashew chili beef on his plate and the black bean squid on mine. "Distraction from what?" I stupidly ask as Daniel takes his place next to me.

"From your departure," he says honestly, picking up his chop sticks and bringing a mouthful of food to his lips. He chews thoughtfully and swallows before chancing a look at me. "You haven't done your April Fool's yet, and seeing as it is passed midday, you are aware if you try to prank me now, you'll be an idiot for the rest of the year."

I'm an idiot anyway, I think to myself, although it's unclear why exactly I am one. It might be because I want to kiss my friend, or it may be because I keep ducking out of kissing my friend. They were both equally idiotic of me. I shouldn't want to kiss Daniel, but I do. So very much. I know I should just pluck up the courage and go for it, but when it comes to relationships, I'm too self-destructive. I'll convince myself that Daniel is too good for me- let's face it, he is too good for me- and I'll start to push him away, ruining everything just because I kissed him.

I can't risk losing him.

"What are you thinking about?" Daniel asks when I don't make a verbal comeback about being an idiot for the next year. He sets down the chopsticks and watches me carefully. "You know you can tell me, right? We're Danphie."

I frown. "What does that even mean? You say it like it's some sort of magical thing, but I don't follow."

"Danphie is you and me," he explains, turning in his chair to look at me. Taking my hand in his, he starts to draw circles on my skin, starting at the back of my hand. "Before you came along, I never understood what it felt like to find that missing link. You hear people talk about soulmates and what not but I thought that it was all bullshit. I mean, what are the chances of you finding that one person, do they even exist? Then, one night, it all changed. Do you remember what you said to me that first call?"

I laugh nervously. "Vaguely."

"Vaguely?" Daniel laughs, turning my hand over in his and starts tracing patterns on my wrist, making me ticklish. Daniel looks up at me from under his eyelashes and beams at me, ecstatic that he's found a weakness to me. "Ticklish. Good to know. Anyway, to refresh your memory, Dory, you called me an arsehole."

"I think I did more than just say that," I blush. I'm pretty sure I made a comment about how I wasn't surprised his girlfriend cheated. Now, however, I am beyond confused with the woman- why would anyone want to cheat on Daniel? He's funny, charming, and good looking, intelligent, honest, caring... "Where are you headed with this, Daniel?"

He smiles at me, leaning closer to me so that my hand is pressed up against his chest. Oh, Holy mother of Jesus Christ. "No one has ever spoken to me like that before," he admits. "You didn't care though. The next few days, I tried to call and apologise but you didn't make it easy. Before you say anything," he prematurely cuts me off when he sees me going to protest. "Yes, that was my fault. After I finally apologised and you accepted that I was sorry, that should have been it.

"So, why did I keep calling you?" He sincerely asks me, as if I hold the answer to the question. I blink at him and shake my head, shrugging my shoulders to indicate that I was at a loss. "Sophie, you are- this is going to sound so pathetic and cheesy- you're my person. You're forever on my mind and no matter how hard I try, I can't go a minute without thinking about you. You're there, in my head, twenty-four seven."

"I'm sorry," I apologise, trying to take my hand from his grasp only to have him hold on tighter.

"I'm not," he says, his voice a whisper. "I get what people mean now. You might not know why being you and me- Danphie- is so magical, but I do. I know because I feel it. Ok, so other people might come and go, but I'm not going anywhere and- apart from moving three and a half thousand miles away- I hope you're not going anywhere, too."

At this point, Daniel's eyes flutter up to meet my gaze and I freeze. Everything he's said- everything- I feel it too. He's always on my mind, at the forefront of my thoughts, a constant. He's my person, too, and that's why I'd never leave him.

It's also the reason that I can't kiss him, no matter how much I want to, or how much my insides are begging me to give in, I can't. It's not worth risking this for that.

"Daniel-"

"I know," he smiles sadly, nodding his head. "I know. But, Soph, sometimes the things you never do in your life and the ones you'll regret the most. I'm not going to push you because I don't want to ruin what we are. When you come back from New York, just promise me that we'll talk about it then, ok?"

I nod, resting my forehead against his. "Daniel?" I say his name softly, hearing him hum in response. Lifting his chin with my fingers, I look into his eye, noticing the hope held within them. Smiling, I lean in, brushing my lips against his like a ghost. "Don't go falling for someone else when I'm not around."

Daniel, still in a trance from my brief kiss, nods, his tongue skimming across his lower lips as if to remember my taste. "Raspberry lemonade."

"It's my lip balm," I laugh, letting my fingers run against my lips. "You, however, taste exactly like I imagined. Like cherries."

In the silence that follows, I pick up my chop stick and start to eat the food from the plate. I can sense Daniel's burning gaze on me, a sneaking look from the corner of my eye confirming my suspicions.

"You know," he says as a matter of fact, his head tilting to one side as he watches me. "When we get married, you'll be Sophie Courtenay."

Playfully, I laugh and shake my head. "Nah, Sophie Whitaker, for the win."