Matthew clasped my hand tightly in his and led me slowly down the road. I pulled my jacket tighter around me as a cool breeze broke the still autumn air. I tried not to stumble in my heeled boots as he all but dragged me along with him.

"Where are we going?" I asked. Matthew had arrived at my house with a bunch of flowers and, despite the biting cold, revealed that we would be walking to our destination. He hadn't told me where and he knew I hated surprises. This guy, I sighed inwardly.

He didn't reply, instead pulled me along a little quicker so that we were walking against the wind. The sun was behind us and warming my shoulders but the rest of my body felt bitter with cold. The sound of the sea grew louder as we carried on and the air began to moisten. Then Matthew halted abruptly, only just stopping me from moving before I could fall over.

"Here we are," he stated casually and told me to sit down. I did, albeit cautiously, but found myself on hard ground. I didn't have to ask to know that we were on the beach promenade. The saltiness and decrease in temperature gave that away. The promenade held many memories from our childhood and was often a favourite place to go to escape reality. I remembered finding Matthew one day standing alone, looking out at the ocean with a sombre expression. That was, I later found out, the day his parents told him they were divorcing. It seemed as though the combination of the promenade and the sea and the air held a comfort within itself. It was a refuge to which we could just exist in the moment with nothing probing our thoughts.

"So," he started. "What do normal people talk about on first dates?"

I shrugged. "No idea. Never been on one."

"Me neither," he laughed. "So, how about-" he rummaged through a bag noisily, "-chocolate tasting?"

"Are you making fun of my disability, Matthew?" I said, feigning hurt.

"No, but you love chocolate so... plus, you won't be able to cheat."

"So it's a competition?" I asked eagerly.

"Well, no..."

"Then what's the point?"

"You get to eat chocolate. Look I hope you don't do this the whole evening because I spent ages planning this."

"Right, sorry." Then, out of nowhere, I burst out laughing and had to control myself for fear of falling over the edge of the promenade.

"What?" asked Matthew, clearly bewildered. I shook my head while coughing from the laughter and smiled widely.

"It's just, you're taking this so seriously," I answered and held back more chuckles, causing more of a cackle to come out of my mouth.

"Look, do you want chocolate or not?"

I nodded and he placed two blocks in my outstretched palm. "Orange," I stated with the pieces still in my mouth.

"Oh, so you're participating now?"

I shrugged and took the next block from his hand, my fingers brushing his. His hand tensed at the motion but I felt nothing out of the usual. No sparks, no rushing heat. That only happened in fiction. "Dark," I stated then paused, savouring the aftertaste of the chocolate on my tongue. "Ninety percent."

"Damn, how can you tell?" he wondered out loud.

"Lots of practice," I reasoned. He handed me another and I took it mindlessly, popping it into my mouth. I grimaced when I realised the flavour of chocolate he had just given me. "Ugh, ew. Why would you do that?" I exclaimed as the strong peppermint took over my taste buds. "You know I hate mint."

"Sorry, but the expression on your face was priceless," he was the one laughing now and I frowned at him, wishing I could see the expression on his face after I hit him over the head with the bar of mint chocolate.

We sat in silence in the unusual stillness with Matthew occasionally handing me more of the dark chocolate to try and mask the peppermint taste left in my mouth. I inhaled the fresh air happily, hoping we would spend a while longer out here. I felt the faint warmth of the setting sun on my face and leant my head on Matthew's shoulder.

"Could you describe the sunset to me?"

He wrapped an arm around me in return and shifted closer. "Well, it's orange..."

"Come on. Use that poetic talent of yours."

He laughed then obeyed. "Um, it looks like it was painted on violently with a huge brush. You know the ones that look like a giant broom? Colours every which way, blending and contrasting...as if with some meaning behind the marks. The clouds...well, they're captivating. Maybe at any moment, they'll open up and pull us from the ground, but instead of being dragged, we'll float swiftly. Up and up and up. I guess you could say it's the most beautiful thing one can witness in their everyday life," he explained but for some strange reason, I felt he was watching me the whole time instead of looking ahead at the sky.

"And the ocean?"

"It's a deep blue and purple, scattered with reflections I guess like imperfections on the perfect canvas. The waves - they still come, they never give up on the shoreline. They wash the sand clean each time, like a new beginning. And it's equally beautiful."

I nodded. His description was all I needed it to be and everything I'd hoped it would be. He'd always had a way with words and it came out in his music that he wrote.

"I don't think I've ever told you how much like the ocean your eyes are," came his voice and I looked up in surprise. He slowly removed the glasses from my face as if to stare into my eyes even though I couldn't stare back. He was now holding me at arm's length, saying nothing as I waited for an explanation as to what was happening. "You're so beautiful, Kayla," his voice cracked midway. "I so wish you knew how truly beautiful; inside and out."

"I know my worth, Matthew," I said quietly, leaning back into him and fighting the tightening of my throat. "I know now. You don't need to worry about me."

He hugged me back and we talked quietly until the sun had dropped behind the horizon and the beach was engulfed in a sudden chill. I buttoned up my coat and Matthew helped me stand then started to lead me to our next destination.

I knew that we were partly walking only because he didn't have his driving license yet, but being out in the open, free from the enclosures that held me back, I was never happier to be walking in such cold. The cold didn't compare to the feelings that seemed to flow up inside of my chest.

We continued for a short while then entered a warm building which thawed my cold hands and face. "Welcome to De Ja Vû, table for two?" a male voice asked to my left and Matthew replied in agreement. Then I knew we were approaching a table near the back, in front of the fireplace. The waiter pulled out my chair for me and Matthew helped me sit before taking a seat adjacent from me.

"Would you like to order any drinks?"

Matthew ordered a coffee and was about to ask for a cappuccino for me when I stopped him. "I can order for myself, thank you very much. I may be blind but I'm not mute."

"Anything for the lady?" I heard the smile in the waiter's voice and frowned.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, sorry. Coffee as well?"

"Yes, thank you," I huffed and when the waiter left, Matthew turned back to me, confused.

"I thought you didn't like coffee."

"I don't. It was out of spite."

"Of course it was."

I smiled and when my coffee arrived, I made sure to add lots of milk and sugar just in case Matthew thought I wouldn't be drinking it. I couldn't deny that I had missed the times I spent with Matthew and knowing that he was here to stay comforted me. It still baffled me how strong he was through all this, even when his sister and mother were also going through a lot at the same time.

The waiter returned for our food orders a while later, interrupting our heated debate over evolution. He believed it was logical that all lifeforms formed from one organism, but I didn't think that possible. Nothing so complex just so happened to be. That was the thing about Matthew and I. One minute we're joking around about the first thing that comes to mind, the next we're able to have debate our own existence.

"Remember when we were seven and were in a fight because I took your lunch?" I recalled a few minutes after we had ordered our food and the topic of conversation had shifted. Matthew laughed.

"I told all my friends that you had an infectious disease after that," he said, laughing hysterically now.

"What?" I gasped. "Is that why everyone in the class avoided me like the plague?"

"Literally," he carried on laughing and I shook my head, not amused at his actions. I clearly remembered becoming an outcast in school for at least a week before it was confirmed that I was, in fact, clean and healthy.

The conversation tapered off when our pasta arrived, allowing us to eat. The basil pesto dressed dish made my mouth water and I immediately picked up my fork. Halfway into our meals my thoughts began to wonder to the fact that we were supposed to be on a date. It didn't really feel any different to a normal dinner with him. Was it supposed to feel different? Special? Were romantic relationships that different from friendships anyway?

With this in my head, I began to focus on my thoughts instead of the evening. I felt the familiar urge - a need for relief from my distracted mind. I picked at my food and reached for my glass of water to try and quench my thirst for pills. But instead of my fingers enclosing around the glass, they pushed it over causing the water to spill all over the table.

"Crap," I muttered as I felt my sleeve come into contact with the water. I tried to ignore the fact that my arms were covered in goose bumps and that I was growing more agitated by the second. Before my overdose, it'd been routine to take pills after dinner. It was that time of night and I felt a slight nausea coming on. I fumbled for serviettes and tried to shift my focus from the withdrawal symptoms while Matthew helped wipe up the spill.

"Hey, are you okay?" came his voice, interrupting my thoughts. I nodded quickly then stopped myself. We have to be honest with each other, and that means both of us.

I squeezed my sleeve gently to rid the droplets and replied, "Not really. I thought I'd be fine. I don't want the drugs, but my brain needs them, you know?"

He placed a hand on my mine. "Give yourself time, Kayla. It won't go away instantly."

I nodded and smiled gratefully. I couldn't be more thankful for him - for all he did. Didn't he ever run out of love? I pulled on my sleeve and sat on my hand to warm it.

"You're beautiful, Matthew. And I know it might sound strange, but it's true. Inside as well as out."

He squeezed my hand and thanked me quietly, if not awkwardly. Then we returned to our food, a strange peace falling over both of us.