Alison's POV.

"And here's your cinnamon dolce, sugar-free, latte." a familiar voice announces as a frothy drink is propped up on the table before me.

Sighing in relief as my fingers curl around the plastic, I shrug my glasses from the bridge of my noses to offer a grateful smile to the man who stands a few feet beside me, "Oh God, you're a life saviour."

"No problem, I - "Blake grins cooly, tucking his phone into his back pocket as he straightens up.

"I paid for it." another voice intervenes, irritated and huffy, "Don't steal credit for my money Ryder."

"Really now Luke?" a short, petite woman snorts, frame splayed messily over the cream couch.

Lips jutting forward into a swollen pout, the man who seems yet to mature, whines as he pesters his girlfriend of five years to side with him.

A hand suddenly encloses my shoulder and I tilt my chin to smile lightly at my dark-haired friend who snickers at the visibly irritated Jieun.

"Poor girl."Elizabeth simpers, "Stuck with that pushover."

Laughing, I chose to not comment as I swivel back to the stack of papers that mount jeeringly down at me, the smile slipping rashly from my lips.

"Still a lot?" she says, fingers pulling at a chair to swing it beside my own.

Humming, I exhale heavily as I tuck the last of one folder into the various piles that shift around my desk.

"I could always give you a hand you know?"Blake offers meekly, shrugging as delves his fingers into his pockets, "Get some of it off your chest?"

"Please, dear God thank you."

Laughing softly, he joins the two of us at the fairly large desk, ballpoint in hand as I sift through the needed papers and pass them gratefully.

It had been a few months after Blake had decided to give up the restaurant, offering the building to me one Saturday afternoon when the five of us had gone out for a movie. At first, I had rejected the offer, much too flustered to comprehend the costly building that only the rich and gifted could afford to dine at. However at the disappointing answer, I had presented him with, he claimed that he was forced to close the restaurant down until a new tenant would be more than happy to step in and take the building under their wing, for a purpose they would be open to.

The thought of the restaurant being morphed into something other than what it was had triggered some sort of internal attachment within me and I had found myself darting to accept the offer sheepishly.

And so here I am the owner of the restaurant and overwhelmed with the work that had gone behind the scenes to keep the building running.

"You know what."Elizabeth suddenly announces from her whining state that presses against Jieun's giggling frame, "I've seen too many letters and numbers for a damn month, we're going out. Get up Alison, Blake please confiscate the pen."

Whining my disagreement, despite the petty fight I put up as Blake gently maneuvers me from the desk and upright, hand on the small of my back as he leads me to the door.

"We're getting drunk tonight kids!"Luke hollers, slamming the door behind the five of us as we stride down the streets.

"Nope."Elizabeth counters, eyes narrowed playfully at the giddy and, "I want to go bowling."

"Why?"Blake mumbles, nose crinkling in distaste as he throws his step-sister a questionable glance, "You suck at it."

"Excuse me?" she exclaims shrilly before her voice slips a few octaves and she hisses threateningly, "Bitch, i dare you to say that again-"

"Sucker!"

And so our walk to the nearest cafe - Jieun had requested this meekly and with a cooing Elizabeth poking at her full cheeks and a lovesick boyfriend the group had collectively agreed - is lit with shrill shrieks and pained groans as pinching fingers curl across the streets.

_________________

Blake and I are left to dibs a reasonable seat, far from the hubbub of the rest of the cafe as the couple and a sulking Elizabeth make their way to the counter to order our usuals.

No words are exchanged as we slip into the boot, at opposite ends. Nor does any animosity rest between us, however, the five years of close rekindling the ashen heap of what we held had done the both of us well.

Friends. That's how we started.

Almost the classmate type of friendship two practical strangers would posses at the very beginning of the semester. Awkward and tense, hot with the past that bit bright at our heels.

But as the time rolled on, not just mine but his own self-inflicted guilt and torment began to close from great, seeping wounds of the bloodiest of crimson to now the lightest of scars, dark enough for the mistakes of the past to bold black beneath our minds.

Best friends. That's what we are and what we always will be.

Nothing more and nothing less.

I, after all, that had occurred and despite but my adamant mindset of recovery and peace, am not ready for relationships. I don't blame Blake for my doubts nor do I blame myself. Personally, a partner wasn't what I needed as of now. Maybe after I'd found my solace and felt whole, I'd purse love again.

And as for Blake, there was no denying the futile inkling of affection he still held for me. The way he'd hold my waist a tad longer than necessary, or smile my way when he'd think I wasn't looking. But whatever Blake and I had before would never flourish to life again, there were too many dark stories and blurred mascara to relive the feeling.

"I swear to God if she orders me a pumpkin spice latte again, I'm dumping it all over her and you can't hold me back," Blake grumbles as he watches his step-sister swivel and pokes her tongue childishly at us.

Grinning, I smother a snort as I return another comical expression of my own, dismissing the fond smile he sends me from his seat.

There's a brief silence as Elizabeth huffs and accept her defeat after our mini-game of who-looks-the-weirdest, turning to face the queue.

"Hey Lisa," he mumbles, his words brittle as the froth soft across mocha, a meek quirk at his lips, as he offers a humourless laugh, "Do you ever think we'd ever get back into a relationship again? For hell's sake?"

Another sheepish snort, his lips stretched wide in a smile that concealed all. I'm taken aback by the question, breath balked at the back of my throat as I cast him a curious glance.

"No, I doubt it." I say, smiling lightly, "We've had our shot. I think we hit the end of it."

He nods, and I refrain myself from reaching over and pulling him into my arms as I catch the quivering smile at his lips.

"I understand," he nods, a broken grin at his lips, sewn at the hems, as he runs a trembling hand across his hair, "but I'm truly sorry for what I did to you, you didn't deserve that, hell no one did. I was such an insolent dick-"

Frowning, I reach over to clasp his arm, intertwining our fingers across the table, "Hey, what happened, happened, okay? Sure you fucked up but so did I. But I'm not moping about what I did in the past because why should I? I can't change what I did, neither can you. But you can change what's around you now, with a happy ending."

"Who said that this isn't a happy ending?" he scoffs, grinning, "Not many exes end up being best friends after."

"No," I agree, laughing, "we're one of a kind."

He smiles, parting his lips to speak when Elizabeth intervenes, dropping two cups between us as she eyes us suspiciously.

"One of a kind?" she snorts, raising an eyebrow, "Pff, please, I am. Anyone would kill for a piece of this unique goodness."

"Unique yes," Luke quips behind her, snickering, "but not in a good way."

Lips curling into a sneer, she grits her teeth before stamping after the shrieking man who'd zipped to the counter, his refuge of picking up his order a temporary excuse to the lioness awaiting her feast.

Sighing, Blake shakes his head as he reaches for his coffee, pressing the cup to his lips and almost immediately ripping it far from his reach, his expression pinched and lips pursed.

"Ah, fuck of course." he curses, reaching for a napkin to dap at his tongue, "It's bloody pumpkin spice."

Snorting, I laugh as I watch his sour expression glare hard at the back of his step-sister's frame who taps impatiently for her prey to walk into unmarked territory.

"Thanks for the help by the way." I chime as we watch the duo in amusement.

"Anytime."

I smile, fingers curling across the body of my latte as I lift it from the table and announce boldly, "Best friends?"

And he looks up, with the same mocha eyes lined with the lightest of caramel. The eyes I'd once spent yearning over. The same that I'd despised and torn across the streets. And now, the eyes of one of my closet and most loved friends.

A man who'd dragged me through hell and heaven, to come to screeching halt at the line between where the clouds lit gold and the stars a bloody crimson.

And the chapter ends, whether it was as sodden as the sand at the brink of frothing pearl or as joyous as the line between the colours of a rainbow, it was one that would forever bear across my heart nonetheless.

He smiles too, as content and brittle as my own as he leans over and presses his cup against mine, "Friends."

THE END.