Smoothing down my black, formal dress in the mirror, I adjusted the sling hanging around my neck and sighed deeply at what lay ahead. It may have been mid-morning, but the sky outside lay so heavy with rainclouds that I needed the light on in order to see properly. It was almost as though Mother Nature herself had received the memo about Ben's funeral.

Turning to the side, it struck me for the first time how different I looked from the last time I'd had this dress on. The day we said goodbye to dad.

I'd definitely grown up since then, my face less round and my hazel eyes more prominent thanks to the discovery of make-up. I'd also lost a few unintentional pounds while in hospital. The knee-length dress hung a little looser over my stomach than normal, and my smaller waist highlighted the curve between my breasts and hips that had also developed in the last couple of years.

Plus side of being in a coma, I guess.

Chastising myself for thinking such vain thoughts on a day like this, I quickly grabbed my black fur jacket and my clutch bag then headed out to the living room.

I could see the tension etched on Charlotte's face as she packed tissues into her handbag. "Ready?" she asked.

"Yep," I replied, pressing my lips together into a tight smile. Even if I was nervous, I wasn't going to let it show. I knew that there would be eyes on me today - the girl who survived - and I hadn't seen or heard from Holly since it happened.

I hadn't seen or heard from Noah, either, but he was the last person I should have been thinking about on such a day.

As we walked into the back of the church I spotted Holly's signature pink hair up at the front, no longer bright neon and styled into a bouncy bob, but washed-out and scraped loosely back into a ponytail.

Like she sensed my arrival, Holly looked directly up at me with her big doe eyes. Her face was blank and emotionless, like some part of her had died that night, too. Keeping her eyes fixed on mine, she ignored my sympathetic smile and rose up slowly from her seat to walk straight towards me.

"How dare you?" She hissed, as she stopped just a few inches in front of me. "Why the fuck are you here?"

"I... I... just wanted to come and pay my respects to Ben and his family," I stuttered, taken aback by the hatred in her voice.

"Don't you dare say his name," she spat back, her voice quiet but in no way uncertain. "He would be alive today if it wasn't for you and your stupid drama making us leave that party when we did."

I could feel tears start to prick my eyes. "Holly, I... Ben had been drinking. It was an accident, I would never have let him drive if I knew what was going to happen."

"Well you did, and it happened. If you want to show any kind of respect to Ben and his family then you'll get the fuck out of here."

I glanced at Charlotte, who moved to leave with me.

"No, I'll go if it's what Holly wants. You stay here," I managed to choke out.

"I'll come with you," Charlotte protested, her eyes lowered.

"No, Charlotte, you can stay," whispered Holly. "It's just this bitch who needs to get out. Now."

Still with her head lowered, Charlotte began to fiddle with the tassle on her handbag. "It's fine, Char," I said, shaking my head. "I'll see you back at the flat."

I managed to hold in my tears until I was just outside the church. But, once the rain started to hit my face, they came thick and fast. I cried for Ben, for Holly, for myself. I cried for this whole messed up situation that people clearly thought was my fault.

Leaning up against the stone wall, I crumpled down into a pile on the floor with one leg curled up underneath me. A few straggling mourners walked past anxiously on their way into the church, sympathetically smiling down at me from under their umbrellas. But I didn't want their sympathy. I wanted all this to have never happened.

Burying my face into my hands I willed the tears to stop, but they refused to follow my instruction.

"Abi, what's going on? Why aren't you inside?"

I looked up slowly, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my black fur jacket. I already knew the person at the other end of that voice. But, dressed in a slim fitting, expensive-looking black suit and tie, he looked different from his normal tattoos and T-shirt style.

"Noah?"

"Who else were you expecting?" he replied with a faint smile. Angling his large, black umbrella over me, he bent down against the wall to join me on the wet floor.

He didn't say another word, until I finally managed to muster a faint croak. "I can't do this, Noah. I'm a murderer, I should never have come here."

His arm was around me quicker than a flash, as he pulled my head into his chest. "Don't say that," he urged. "Don't ever think like that. It was an accident, and one that you could have easily been killed in too. I don't want to hear you speak like that again, okay?"

I nodded through sobs, as I breathed in his scent. It was exactly as I remembered, the same fresh smell that had filled my dreams for the past three weeks. Almost refusing to let myself believe that he was here now, holding me, I placed a palm onto his chest. The warmth of his body radiated through the thin cotton of his white shirt and I could feel the faint pulsing of his heart.

After a few minutes silence curled together, my tears had stopped flowing and my breathing was no longer strained and choking.

"Come on," said Noah, pulling me up onto my feet. "Let's go get a coffee, then I can drop you home."

With one arm holding the umbrella and the other wrapped tightly around my shoulders, Noah led us both through the graveyard of the church and out onto the tree-lined street.

"I spotted a cafe just round the corner when I was parking," he said, as we walked side by side. "That sound okay to you?"

I nodded. "But what about the funeral? You were on your way in..."

"I care more about the living than I do the dead," he responded matter-of-factly, as he pushed the door of the quaint little cafe and held it open for me to enter.

Commandeering two big, comfy armchairs at the back, Noah went to the counter. As I watched the young barista blushing up at him, a strange sense of pride swelled within me. I couldn't help feeling somewhat smug that I was the one here with Noah - even if the last time we'd spent any time together I'd ended up running out screaming at him.

I ran my eyes up the full length of his suit; he looked like a completely different guy dressed up like that, more masculine. It was definitely bespoke, I could tell from the way each seam perfectly fit whatever toned body part it lay upon. His wide shoulders looked even more defined thanks to its tailoring, and the slim fit of his white cotton shirt hinted subtly at the muscular torso hidden underneath.

I was still absently-mindedly staring him up and down when Noah turned back to our table, drinks in hand.

"Scrub up alright, do I?" He asked with a smirk.

"It's a nice suit, that's all," I replied, rolling my eyes.

Laughing gently as he sat down opposite me, Noah continued. "Didn't think you'd have been going to the funeral today, anyway. I thought you were still at home recovering?"

"I am," I replied. "Well, obviously not right now. I'm sitting outside churches crying today, apparently."

"Can I ask what happened?" he said, looking up at me as he gently stirred his drink.

Letting out a big sigh, I explained how Holly had gone crazy at me for being there. He listened intently, and I soon realised I'd been talking non-stop for at least ten minutes about everything that had happened during my time in hospital, including Holly's quiet visits to my room.

Noah cast his eyes back down to the almost-empty mug in his hands.

"I know you were there, too," I whispered. "I don't know why, but thank you."

"I felt guilty about the accident, Abi," he replied, closing his eyes as he spoke.

"Why?" I asked, unsure of which Noah I would be getting today.

"Just because," he snapped.

Okay, looks as though I've got closed off, secretive Noah again.

"Because of what?" I continued, refusing to let him shut down the conversation so easily. "Because if you hadn't freaked out on me, I'd have never left the party when I did?"

"Yeah, if you want to put it that way."

"Noah, you have nothing to feel guilty about," I replied, drawing a line through the air with my hand. "The accident could have happened at any time. It's just some kind of sick fate that it happened to us three, when we were leaving your house."

"It's not just that, though," he sighed. "I have so many things to feel guilty about when it comes to you. Not just the accident."

"What do you mean?"

"Just the life I live. I should have left you alone that first day I saw you, but I just couldn't. If I was a better man I'd have sorted my own shit out before starting whatever that whole thing was between us."

His choice of words sent a shiver across my skin.

"Was?" I whispered.

"You said yourself that it was all over," he replied with a frown.

As silence fell between us, I thought back on events of the past three weeks. Not that I needed to think any more, I'd spent nearly the last month doing nothing but thinking.

I fiddled with the handle of my coffee cup, the foam in the bottom swirling with creamy brown remnants.

"Life's too short," I said. "Being in that crash has made me realise anything can happen when you least expect it, and maybe you coming into my life is one of those things."

"I don't understand," he said, his frown deepening.

"You and me. The things you opened up about to me have played on my mind, every day since that night."

He didn't respond, so I continued.

"You keep going on about how you're bad for me in some way, but I can only see the good."

Noah still sat silently, his confused expression making me want to hold his head in my hands and smooth the lines away with kisses.

"Yeah, you're fucked up," I continued without waiting for him to respond, "But we're all fucked up in our own ways."

"Abi, I..." he started, before deciding against whatever he was going to say and closing his mouth again.

"Maybe I'm being stupid, or naive," I continued, "But whatever it is between us, I think we should give it a chance. Take it slow though. Baby steps."

"It wouldn't work," he muttered, looking past me to a generic print that hung on the wall. "There are so many things about me that would destroy you. I can't hurt you anymore than I have already done."

I sighed deeply. "Noah, I've just survived a car crash and a coma, I can handle whatever it is you're going to throw at me."

"Let me tell you the full story first, and then you can decide," he responded, still unable to meet my eyes.

"No!" I snapped, my voice more forceful than I had expected it to be. "This is a chance to draw a line and start again. I don't want to know anymore about your reckless past. I want to know you. As you are now."

"That's the thing though," he replied, finally meeting my eyes with his. "I really have changed. In the past month I've changed so much about my life. I've done it for you. But I don't know if it will ever be enough."

"You're enough," I whispered. "You and all your baggage."

After what felt like the longest silence of my life, he finally spoke.

"I'll break your heart one day, even if I try not to," he said softly, the sadness that I hated to see creeping back into his beautiful green eyes.

"Then I'll just be able to write songs about it when that day comes," I replied, smiling as I shifted in my chair to reach forward and touch his knee gently with my working arm.

He smiled weakly. "I don't deserve your lyrics. I don't even deserve a second chance."

"Second?" I laughed softly, "Don't you mean third, fourth, maybe fifth?"

He returned my laugh as he placed his hand over mine. "Sixth time's the charm?"

"Deal," I replied, watching as the sadness behind his pupils lifted and the glint returned.

"Drop me back now please?" I said quietly. "My arm's killing me this stupid dress."

"Already asking me to help you out of your clothes?" he smirked.

Enjoying the fleeting return of the cocky Noah I'd first met, I laughed. "Not just yet, eager beaver. Baby steps this time, remember?"

As we stood up to leave, Noah gently placed his hand on the small of my back, his touch sparking against me as strong as - if not stronger - than before.

Lowering myself into the passenger seat of his car, my insides rolled with nerves, excitement, contentment and fear. Neither of us was clearly in the mood to do much more talking, so I was relieved when the music started up as soon as he turned the key in the ignition.

As he drove, Noah softly hummed along to the same vintage strains of David Bowie that had been playing the night we shared burgers in a car park. I listened to the words carefully as I watched the raindrops rush against the window.

There's a Starman, waiting in the sky

He'd like to come and meet us,

But he thinks he'd blow our minds

I couldn't help but smile as I glanced around to look at Noah from the corner of my eye, drumming his fingers lightly on the wheel and concentrating on the road ahead more carefully than I think he'd ever done before.

My own Starman. Falling out of the sky one day, straight into my life and blowing my normally sensible mind to pieces.

Just a few minutes later we were outside my flat. Switching off the engine, Noah shifted around to face me.

"Are we giving this a name, then?" he asked quietly, gesturing at the space between us.

"Not yet," I smiled. "Baby steps, remember?"

"Okay then, baby steps," he replied, smiling back. "I'll see you around."

"You don't even have my number yet," I laughed. "This really is taking it slow!"

"I'll know how to find you," he said gently, leaning over to place a soft kiss on my cheek. "I always do."

It was only once I got into the house and caught a glimpse of my outfit as I passed by the mirror, that I even remembered the awful start to the day. I'm not sure how normal it is for people to get together at funerals, but this was Noah and me.

We were never going to be normal.