The only audible sound in the entire house at nearly 2.45 in the morning was the sound of water sloshing into the bathtub. Liam sighed deeply and rubbed his palms against his face. Some nights he wished that he was not best friends with a girl who had the same energy as that of three horses.

"Liam!" he heard her singsong voice calling him from the bathroom.

In a very unenthusiastic way, he trudged his feet upstairs unwillingly. He took his sweet time, staring at each picture that hung from nails on the walls leading upstairs.

An involuntary giggle left his lips once his eyes fell on a picture of Emily.

Her eyes were rolled up and her tongue was sticking out. Her hands were in the air as she held them out trying to catch a few of the confetti which was floating and falling all around her. She was so happy.

He remembered that incident clearly.

It was her thirteenth birthday, and the moment she walked into the main gate of the school, Liam had burst the party cannon. They didn't care about the number of people staring at them, nor the mess surrounding them.

It was their moment.

His eyes darted to the next one on the wall. This time it was a picture of him and Emily at his house. He was laying with his stomach facing the mattress; an elbow propping up his head, he stared down at her hazel eyes. She looked up at him too while sitting on the marble floor, her back against his bed. 

It was taken by Chris, most probably. How was Liam to know the mysterious ways how Emily took their pictures?

The third was of himself. He was grinning ear to ear as he looked over to his best friend who was clicking the picture. They were in a smoothie shack and it was clicked sometime around the previous year.

His bright blue eyes gleamed and he realised that he looked in... love.

He cursed himself for not being discreet enough. At this rate, Emily might come to know any day and all he wished for, was for her to never ever know about his silly crush - more like heartwrenching love - for her.

A loud "Liam!" startled him from his thoughts and he was forced to yell back, "Coming!"

Cursing himself and Emily, he pushed open the oyster-white door with a shove. He did not pay any attention to the thrown articles of clothing scattered all across her wooden laminated floor.

The Hague blue of her walls was a depressing colour, Liam had to admit. He had learned to love the shade which was a blend of blue, green and black but sometimes at night, it still gave him the creeps.

He paid no heed to anything as he strutted towards the bathroom. He did not give her a second to react or a warning as he used the heel of his palm and pushed the door of the bathroom open.

He was greeted with the familiar scent of cherry almond. It had come in such strong quantity when the fumes of the shower that hit his face in full force. And he thought that his eyes were going to water. 

When the vapour started subsiding, he blinked in hopes to see why there was so much steam all around.

"Liam!" she smiled brightly.

"Emily," he coughed, "What's with all the steam?"

She snorted and he could see her rolling her eyes, "What do you think it's from? The water is fucking cold, Liam!"

He could only see her face, the rest of her body was still behind the steam. Her hair was left open and her brown tips were wet and her face was glistening with the water she had used to wash herself.

Her smile never seemed to dim even a bit.

She stepped out into the area with much lesser steam and he could notice that she had an off white towel tightly wrapped around her body.

She shivered as she approached where Liam stood.

His breathing slowly accelerated like every time before this. He knew it was only a few seconds before she would step away and he would scrub her hair and they'd be done, but his heart wouldn't seem to listen to him.

She came closer to him. She was close and yet wasn't pressing her body against his. She lifted her right hand gently and with her fingertips, she touched the corner of his mouth.

He could feel a part of him leaning into her touch but he pulled away in time. He frowned.

It felt as though Emily herself had been in a trance, her eyes never left his lips. After a while when she realised that he was waiting for an answer, she took in a stuttering breath but her gaze never wavered away from him, "Sugar."

"You had sugar on your lips."

Without giving a second to react, she turned away swiftly and walked towards her wooden cupboard that held her cosmetics. On her tallest tiptoes, she reached for her favourite bubblegum shampoo out.

Liam chuckled, "I still don't get it. How do you even like bubblegum shampoo?"

Emily walked towards to the bathroom and pulled a plastic stool from a shelf that was under the sink. As she wet her hair under the running water, she replied, "I don't know. It has something to do with the reassuring smell of bubblegum."

He walked over as she sat on the stool. Rubbing his hands with the shampoo to make lather, he laughed, "Bubblegum's reassuring?"

"Don't know if you remember it, but the first time we met, I was chewing on bubblegum," she replied, deep in thought.

"How could I forget that charming girl who chewed on bubblegum nastily and helped me with the scattered paper flying everywhere?" he rolled her eyes as he scrubbed her head.

"Love you too buddy," she replied without even having to bat an eye.

And then he heard it. She moaned. Twice.

"Emily?" he asked.

"Yeah?" she hummed.

He stuttered, "Did you just moan twice?"

"Your hands, Liam," she told, moaning his name, "God, it's so good. That's why I let you wash my hair every time."

He was thankful that he was standing behind her and she couldn't see his red face. His brain wouldn't stop repeating the way she moaned his name.

"I can sense your blush," she told without even having to tilt her face up.

"Damn you," he replied, "And your senses."

"It's not the senses, Liam," she said, "It is just that you're easy to read."

He went towards the sink and away from her. Anything to keep his distance. He washed the froth off his hand, "I'm easy to read?"

She stood up. Her hair was frothy and her hands were on her hips. Her body was still glistening with water and was covered with the towel that covered only half her thighs.

"Not really," he waiting for her to complete. She replied, "I think it's because we are so close that it is easy to read you."

He watched her wash her hair but did not expect to get himself wet so soon. When she was done, she flipped her still dripping hair and Liam who was standing behind her got his shirt drenched.

"Emily!" he roared, looking at his shirt in horror.

"Oh my!" she told, turning to look at him, "I am so sorry, Liam."

"You're not sorry," he told her flatly, staring at her.

She let her shocked expression change into an amused one, "Not really."

"Emil-"

"Oh come on, Liam!" she dragged his name, "You've even got your clothes here. What's the use of throwing a fit?"

He clenched his jaw and held her anger with a leash, reminding himself over and over that it was Emily, "Fine, I get it. It was payback, ain't that right?"

"Absolutely," she replied as she walked out of the bathroom, "Your clothes are in the closet."

Sighing, he shut the door and he could hear the falling of cloth outside the bathroom and he knew that Emily had let her towel drop. Shaking his head, he let everything else fade away as he let himself drown in the shower.

~*~

He rubbed his wet hair with the towel. He had rubbed his hair many times already but he could still feel that it was wet at the tips. The issues with having thick hair, he sighed. 

He threw his familiar black shirt at another side of the bathroom. It was wet anyway. Looking into the wardrobe, he realised that he had left his plaid red flannel. He tossed it over himself and looked at his reflection.

Making a mental note, to bring a new stack of clothes the next time he came, he walked out of the bathroom.

His eyes did not fall on her at first glance. Only when he noticed her, he called her out, "Emily, what are you doing?"

She turned around and placed a hand over her heart, "Scared me. But tell me did I gain a lot of weight?"

She lifted her hands and her bright orange shirt rid upwards, showing her stomach.

His heart nearly dropped when he noticed that she was only wearing lace thongs under her shirt.

"Liam?"

He stuttered as he tried to form an accurate statement, "I- I don't- think that you- you've gained much weight."

"Are you fine, Liam?" she asked, her expressions morphing into a worried one, "You seem a little red."

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, trying to bring his tone back to the normal one and not the squeaky high pitched thing, "I'll be in the kitchen."

As he walked towards the kitchen and began brewing coffee for himself, he knew that he'd have to get rid of his crush on Emily if he wanted to keep their friendship intact.

His gaze fell on the boring criss-cross pattern of the shiny brown tiles. He had to get rid of the thoughts.

Liam was so deep into his thoughts, that he was barely processing anything his hands were doing. Accidently, he spilt steaming hot coffee on his hand instead of his white cup.

Instinct kicked in and he yelped and jumped up at the same moment. Not even thinking about pouring water on it, he pranced around the kitchen, yelling that it burnt and blowing air to it.

When he unexpectedly stubbed his toe into the kitchen island, he roared, "GODDAMN IT!"

He climbed onto the island and cradled his bruised toe when he heard hurried footsteps. Looking up with pain written all over his face, he saw Emily standing with wide alert eyes. Her hair was still wet and it drenched the shoulder of her t-shirt.

She was in a shirt that read 'Be You' and the macaroon yellow tee was tucked into blue highrise denim jean shorts. She looked frightened and walked towards him with slow steady steps. The bottom of her shirt was tied up into a knot.

"Are you fine, Liam?" she asked with worried eyes.

"Fine," he replied, trying to suppress his pain.

She looked at his toe which he was cradling close and onto his hand until she realised something. She told aloud, her eyes bulging, "Your hand is burnt, Liam!"

She did not think twice as she dragged him from the island, holding his wrist firmly but carefully as she directed him towards the kitchen sink. She turned the tap on and placed his hand under the running water. On impulse, he jerked but thankfully Emily had anticipated it and held his hand tight. He gasped as the water first made the burn feel worse before it began soothing the burn down.

After Emily turned the water off, she blew air on his hand with a little furrow between her eyebrows and at that moment, Liam knew the exact reason why he loved her.

Though she might act all tough and that, she wouldn't get affected by anything that you said, but she cared when she loved you. She cared if you hurt her. If you hurt yourself in the process.

He shook his head quietly when he realised that he had been staring at her again.

Liam dropped his hand to his side. Sighing deeply, he told her, "It's fine."

Her furrow never relaxing, she growled, "It's not. It needs cream for burns."

"It's fine, Em-"

"You take care of me every time, Liam. Let me help you," she told softly, but it sounded as though she was pleading him to let her help him.

He nodded once and let her bring the ointment and apply it to his bruised hand.

"Thanks," he mumbled as she waltzed towards her bedroom with her back facing him.

"Nothing to thank me for," she replied from over her shoulder.

Emily loved Liam beyond measure. She knew that she was so attached to him that she doubted if she would be able to live a life without him, but through it all, she did not want to change a thing. She knew that she couldn't imagine a life without him. Even if everything in her stupid life went to waste, she would never let Liam go. He meant more to her than anything the world could offer.

When she returned, she saw Liam already taking things out of the cupboard.

"What are you doing, Liam?" she asked her hands on her hips.

"Making popcorn?" he replied, turning around with a green bowl in his good hand.

She went to his side and grabbed the bowl in a swift move. Setting it on the island, she told him, "No, I'm making the popcorn, you get to the movie-"

"Remember what happened the last time you tried to cook?" he asked, "Even though it was just popcorn."

She went behind him, and pushed him using the side of her arm but already anticipating it, Liam had firmly planted his feet to the floor.

"Get out of the kitchen," she grunted as she tried to get him to move.

"Nope," he replied, grunting as he struggled to keep his feet in one place especially with the floor being slippery.

"Just go out, Liam. You're hurt-"

"I'm perfectly fine, Emil-"

"No, stop being stubborn," Emily told as she continued shoving him, "Go out of my kit-"

"Let me do it!" Liam roared, standing straight in a flash while she stumbled as she did not expect him to move.

She looked at Liam to find him quenching his eyes shut. His lips firmly pressed into a grim line and with a furrow between his eyebrows, she knew that he was anxious.

She let out a breath and wrapped her arms around Liam's waist.

He stiffened but slowly gave in, hugging her back. It was Emily, he could never say no to her. Her head pressed against his chest, she could feel his heartbeat against her palm. It was erratic but slowly, evening out.

"You know, Liam," she whispered into his ear, "I will always be by your side. You can tell me anything and everything."

A beat flew past them and he replied into the crook of her shoulder, "I know."

She smiled through closed eyes, tugging gently at the tuft of hair at his nape while he twirled her hair behind her.

They stayed that way for a moment, until Liam told, "I'm still making the popcorn."

~*~

Satisfied with the way his tongue was tingling after tasting the popcorn, he carried the two glass bowls to the living room. After nearly three years of making popcorn, he had almost (almost!) learned the art of making caramel popcorn the perfect way.

Liam being an unusual soul had only once tasted the popcorn of the new husband of his mother and fallen in love with the blend of caramel and chilli flakes. Months after tasting it, he tried recreating it. Once he even made Emily taste the damn thing for an entire day just to find the correct amount to add. Sometimes, it got too sweet and on other days, it got too spicy. Sometimes, it got bland and sometimes it got tasteless, but he finally got the hang of it.

He walked in on Emily who was furiously typing away on her phone. The only source of light in the dark room was her phone and the light the TV was emitting. She was sitting on the floor with was covered with a red-checkered picnic mat which he recognised instantly.

His eyes glanced towards and he read the huge letters on the screen. Sherlock Holmes: A game of Shadows. With his face lit up, he walked towards Emily and sat on the floor. He rested his back against the wooden frame of the couch.

"We're watching Sherlock Holmes?" he asked, his grin wide.

Emily hastily set the phone to her other side and told him, "Ye-yeah, it's your favourite movie and since we always see what I want to. So, a change!"

He grinned wide but he soon, recognised the tense tone of her words and asked her, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," she told, pursing her lips, "No. Not really. Problems with Venessa. You know, 'girlfriend' problems."

He nodded, showing interest, "But don't-"

A loud ping of her phone cut her words off. She looked at the text frowning but then smiled wide after reading the whole thing, she told him happiness oozing her words, "It's all good."

She noticed the whole of popcorn and popped one into her mouth and as soon as she chewed them, her eyes rolled in ecstasy, "These are so good, Liam."

"Why, thank you, Emily," he mirrored her smile and with that, she pressed the play button on the remote and began the movie.

Somewhere after nearly one-third of the movie was done and all the popcorn and even its remnants were gobbled up, Liam found himself abandoning the movie and staring at Emily whose hazel eyes looked right back at his.

"Then what are we gonna do?" she asked, breathless.

"Maybe then, we'd get a chance to walk through the busy streets of Paris and someday, either you or I develop an unusual passion for painting," he told her.

"You know Liam," she purred as he ran a hand through her hair that spilled across the checkered mat, "I think we should go to Paris right after we graduate."

"Maybe we will," he replied, trying to memorise every little detail of her, even though he already knew her like the back of his hand, "Someday."

She smiled as she looked up at her best friend. They had abandoned their movie a long time ago. She told staring right into his bright blue eyes, "I love you, Liam."

Liam felt his heart speeding up though he knew she meant it only as a friend, he cursed his heart for getting excited.

"I love you too, Emily," he replied, trying to swallow the urge to kiss her and ignore the huge lump in his throat.

Before the air could grow awkward a loud blare from Emily's phone, distracted them both. At once, she jumped from her position on his lap to grab her phone with both hands.

Liam paused the movie in a flick, knowing that the album she had been waiting for had finally been released.

And with that, the best friends began singing along with Taylor Swift, to her re-recorded heard and unheard tracks from Red over and over again until it was time for them to go to school. They hadn't had a wink of sleep, but then again, neither of them cared.