Dedicated to JJWriterz, because I'm pretty sure the long comment she left me about an hour ago was her less-than-subtle hint for a dedication. It worked, Jessie.

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            Really, I don’t know what I expected.

            Some kind of spontaneous fanfare? A physical weight being lifted from my shoulders? A sprinkling of confetti? Either way, nothing like that happened. In fact, without the meaning behind them, without the emphasis placed on keeping them locked inside, they were just words. Nothing more than just a combination of letters, strung together as a means of communication from the mind to the outside world.

            Just words. They couldn’t hurt you physically, but they were extremely good at tricking your mind into thinking differently.

            “It was my mum and dad,” I whispered. My voice was barely audible, let alone against the background of the ocean, but it didn’t seem like Daniel was having any trouble hearing. “Three years ago.”

            Three years and fifty-one days. I didn’t mean to count, mentally tallying up another twenty-four hours I’d got through without them, but I couldn’t help it. It just happened.

            “Oh, Flo.”

            Daniel’s face had transformed. Usually, this was the cue for pity to set in; I was almost afraid to see it etched across his features. Yet when I lifted my head, daring to meet his gaze, I came face-to-face with the sight of something very different. Understanding. Empathy.

            “What happened?” he asked, before cringing at his outright question. “Sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

            Silently, I shook my head. “A car accident,” I forced out, my throat suddenly raw. “The other driver was drunk. I was only fourteen.”

            His expression could only be described as horror-struck; it must’ve had something to do with the fact I’d kept it quiet for the last month. Maybe he’d assumed he was the only one with a secret. “Oh, Flo, I know it doesn’t make it any better, but I’m so sorry…”

            I shook my head again. “It’s not your fault.”

            “I know, but–”

            “Daniel.”

            His name trailed off into heavy silence; he stared back at me, eyes searching my face. I resisted the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. “I’m fine,” I tried to say, but my voice cracked before it had even hit the last note. The dam was breaking, the memories flooding back, and suddenly all I could see through a glaze of blurred tears was the moment Nora had opened the door to see the police officer.

            One moment I was composed, expertly concealing my greatest weakness. The next, my mask was crumbling, tears rolling delicately down my cheeks.

            “Sorry,” I mumbled, swallowing hard. “I shouldn’t be making this about me.”

            I was ashamed by my selfishness. It was obvious Daniel was having a hard time dealing with his grief, and what he needed was support. Having to comfort me, bawling over something I should’ve already got to grips with, wasn’t going to help. It was stupid, I knew, to choose now of all moments to miss desperately the security of being enveloped in my mum’s arms, or the deep, hearty sound of Dad’s laugh that had always made everything seem okay, but that didn’t stop it from happening.

            “Shh, you idiot. Come here.”

            He edged closer, and before I knew it, I’d been scooped into his arms. They were oddly warm against the harsh, salty breeze whipping through our hair, squeezing me tight as if returning the favour from the other night. Only then did I realise what I’d previously thought impossible: this, right here, was perhaps as comforting as being curled up with Nora in the darkness of her bedroom. The grief was still there, of course, rushing in like the tide and constantly threatening to pull me under. But with Daniel I felt safe, reassured by a buoyancy aid, settled in the knowledge that the hopelessness couldn’t consume me completely.

            Without thinking, I rested my head against his chest. My arms, acting of their own accord, wrapped around his torso. We were pressed right up against each other, the gap between us dwindled into nonexistence, a single shadow made up of two silhouettes.  

            “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. I could feel soft pressure on the top of my head; he was stroking my hair.

            “It’s not the sort of thing you can slip into casual conversation,” I murmured into his chest.

            “Tell me about it.” He laughed shakily. “No secrets now though, right? We both know each other’s depressing back stories.”

            “Sorry,” I apologised again. For the most part, the tears had subsided; my eyes were still damp, but I’d never known the feeling of despair to dissipate so quickly. Even with Nora’s arms to fall into, it had been worse than this. “This wasn’t exactly the pep talk you were looking for.”

            “Stop apologising. It doesn’t matter.”

            “But–”

            Before I could continue, a finger was pressed to my lips, effectively cutting me off. I tried to ignore the jolt of electricity induced by the contact, but my pounding heart did enough to remind me. “No buts. It’s been a rough night for the both of us, okay?”

            Sighing in defeat, there was nothing left to do but agree. I still felt guilty – Daniel had obviously been seeking comfort, and all I’d offered was the burden of my own problems – but there was no denying the weighty sense of relief that had settled over us. We might’ve been getting somewhere after all.

            Daniel knew. And, surprisingly, that was okay.

            His finger trailed away from my lips; reaching up, he wiped the last few tears from my cheek with his thumb. Our faces were in closer proximity than they ever had been, his eyes sweeping intently over my features. In fact, there was such a blaze of intensity behind the speckled hazel that I was sure something was going to happen any moment now…

            “You know, I think now would be a good time for those doughnuts.”

            I was struck by a brief pang of disappointment, but broke into laughter at his serious expression. “Because doughnuts solve everything, right?”

            “Of course they do.”

            His face stayed as straight as line while he reached for the packet, tearing it open and waving it beneath my nose. “First pick?”

            I rolled my eyes but wasn’t one to refuse such an offer.

            And somehow, sitting on a beach in the bitter cold at two in the morning made these doughnuts – cheap, sticky and probably full of chemical fats linked to early death – taste like the best thing in the entire world. As unlikely as it sounded, Daniel’s theory that they solved all problems was looking increasingly believable.

            “The best doughnuts you can get for miles,” he concluded triumphantly. Having polished his off in record timing, he’d now resorted to licking the rest of the icing off his fingers – all while I was still a measly halfway through. “Damn, we should’ve picked up another pack while we were there.”

            I laughed, the action now much easier than it would’ve been ten minutes ago. “That’d just be greedy.”

            “After the night we’ve had, I think we deserve it.”

            “I suppose that’s true.”

            He turned to look at me, once again with that searching expression that felt as if all my innermost thoughts had been placed under a beaming spotlight. It was oddly similar, I realised then, to the one Erin often wore when she was trying to figure something out. Their differences may have been dominant on first notice, but if you looked close enough, Daniel and Erin had some peculiar similarities that could only be present between twins.

            Unnerved by the look’s intensity, I swallowed my last mouthful and blinked back. The atmosphere seemed suddenly charged, as if the air between us had been zapped with a shot of electricity.

            “You know, if you ever feel like you need to talk to someone, or if you’re just having a rough day, you can always talk to me,” he said earnestly. “Any time of day. I’m your guy.” His smile was iridescent, as bright as the moonlight bathing the cove. “And I’m not one to turn down midnight doughnuts. They really do make everything better.”

            A smile of my own edged its way onto my lips. “Actually, I’m beginning to believe you on that one.”

            “I told you, didn’t I? Seriously, though, I can’t stand to see you upset.”

            A particularly strong gust of wind whipped past us, its chill forging a path through the fabric of my jacket and inducing shivers throughout my body. This, of course, didn’t escape Daniel’s notice. “And I can’t stand to see you cold either,” he added, shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over my shoulders.

            I tried to protest. “No, really, you’ll be cold–”

            “I’m fine,” he countered, even though removing this outer layer had left him in a T-shirt that looked much too thin. “Used to the sea air and all that, remember?”

            “Right,” I said. “Well, thanks.”

            “That’s okay.”

            Perhaps it was my imagination, but he seemed to have inched closer, the gentle smell of washing powder on his clothes even noticeable over the salty scent of the air. A strand of my hair blew forward from its ponytail, but before I could tuck it behind my ear, Daniel had reached up and was doing it for me. His face was now so close I found myself holding my breath, my mind subconsciously joining freckles on his nose.

            “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but…” His gaze swept over my face, as if searching for permission to voice his next thought. “I don’t know what it is about you, Flo. I can’t help it. I’m crazy about you.”

            I inhaled sharply. This couldn’t be happening. It all seemed too surreal; surely it had to be some part of a restless dream, conjured up whilst stumbling through the realms of light sleep. Things like this just didn’t happen to me. Any moment now I would wake up sweating, not to mention crushed with disappointment, in my bedroom, coming to realise that my suspicions had been justified. Wouldn’t I?

            But suddenly Daniel was edging closer than he had been before, and it occurred to me that this was all very real. It hit me all at once, hurtling at full speed, a realisation and onset of elation all rolled into one. In a dream I’d never pick up on the slight tentativeness in his movements, the feel of the sand beneath me, or that one tuft of his hair sticking up in an opposite direction to the rest.

            No, this was most definitely real.

            And as soon as I’d come to the conclusion, my lips were faced with the unmistakable – yet totally unfamiliar – sensation of another pair being pressed against them.

            I was kissing Daniel. On a secluded beach in the middle of the night, where, for a little while, nothing existed but that one moment. We were enclosed in a single snapshot, an instant not intruded on by anybody else. Even if only for a few seconds, we were just us. And that was all we had to be.

            The kiss was soft; I could barely feel the pressure of his lips as they brushed over mine. My head was much too fuzzy to think straight, but that didn’t stop me from wondering if my lack of experience was showing through too boldly. It wasn’t like I actually knew what I was doing. In essence, I was floundering, hoping that my apprehensive movements were at least slightly in sync with his.

            Still, I was sort of in the middle of my first kiss with the guy I’d liked for weeks. Even if I did stop freaking out long enough to concentrate, it wasn’t exactly my most refined moment.

            But that was okay. It didn’t have to be.

***

            We ended up staying on the beach longer than anticipated. I didn’t have a watch, but I could see the darkness gradually dissipating from the sky, stretching wide to make room for the sunrise due later. We must’ve spent over an hour there, just talking, until my eyelids started to grow heavy and I realised I could easily drift off on Daniel’s shoulder if I didn’t stop myself.

            It was surprising, how easy it was to talk to him. I’d been afraid my confession would make things stilted or awkward between us, but Daniel’s personal experience had led him to be more understanding than anyone. Conversation flowed freely between us, moving through the silliest topics with little friction, punctuated by crazy anecdotes and persistent laughter.

            I was more than disappointed when we came to realise that we really had to be heading back, or else risk facing the wrath of some incredibly pissed off Mums or Grams. The night had taken a rapid turn from restlessness to total elation, as if I was soaring above the clouds themselves. For once in my life, I was actually thankful for the nightly plague of thoughts that kept sleep at bay. Without them, tonight would never have happened.

            Backtracking our original path, we trailed up the edge of the cove and ducked past the rocky outcrop that isolated us from the rest of the beach. Our hands stayed intertwined as we stumbled over the uneven surface, the warmth of his jacket still hugging me from the waist upward. I’d tried to give it back to him at least three times, claiming it wasn’t fair of me to leave him cold, but he refused to take it. Even when we’d wandered all through Walden, creeping through the house-edged streets and up to the hilltop cul-de-sac where Gram’s cottage sat, he still wouldn’t let me shrug it from my shoulders.

            “It’s your jacket,” I told him.

            “Keep it.”

            I looked over at Gram’s front door; it couldn’t have been more than a few metres away. “Daniel, I’m not exactly going to contract hypothermia in the time it takes me to walk up the front path.”

             “I don’t want to take the chance.”

            I rolled my eyes, despite being secretly overjoyed that he was giving me his hoodie. It was much too big for me, hanging awkwardly from my torso, but the thick fleecy material was warmer than it looked, and the scent of Daniel seemed to cling to every fibre. Maybe if I closed my eyes and hugged it tightly enough, I could kid myself he was there with me.

            “Well, thanks. And thanks for walking me back.”

            “That’s okay.” Though for the most part he was keeping eye contact, every so often his gaze seemed to drop to my lips, as if he couldn’t help himself. “You know, though, it was kind of an excuse.”

            “An excuse for what?”

            He stepped closer. “To do this again.”

            And then he’d ducked down to kiss me, his hand trailing the edge of my jaw as his lips brushed gently with mine. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he must’ve been able to hear it, and an electrified shiver coursed through me despite the hoodie.

            “You do realise that was incredibly cheesy, right?” I said, once distance wove its way between us again.

            The returning grin was sheepish, and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know,” he admitted, “but it worked, didn’t it?”

            “I suppose so.”

            Looking over my shoulder, I studied the cottage. The curtains were pulled across the windows, the entire place deadly still. It was almost like I was looking at a photograph: a snapshot frozen in time, lacking the faintest hint of movement. But I couldn’t let myself be fooled: Gram was inside, and she had a tendency to wake up at strange hours of the morning if she was in one of her creative mindsets. “I need to go in now.”

            His gaze flickered to the house and back again. “I know.”

            “Thanks, though,” I breathed, squeezing his hand, “for tonight. For everything.”

            “Shh,” he said quietly. “I already told you: you don’t need to thank me. We’re just two sad cases who’ve got to stick together. Anyway, I don’t know how I would’ve got through tonight without you.”

            I smiled, reluctantly untangling my fingers from his. “See you tomorrow?”

            “Today,” he corrected.

            “Right. See you later.”

            I started up the front path, all too aware that he was watching me go. Glancing briefly back, I noticed he stood in his original position, having made absolutely no attempt to head back home. The corners of my lips tugged upward again as I reached the front door, unlocked it as silently as I could manage and slipped inside.

            Even when I’d tiptoed up the staircase – careful to avoid every spot I’d discovered had a tendency to creak – and returned to my bed, still encased in the warmth of Daniel’s jacket, I found myself unable to wipe the smile from my face.

            It just wouldn’t budge.

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Oh my god it was a Flaniel kiss (two, actually) and I don't know what I'm typing right now and Daven I hope you're freaking out because you've waited ages for this and yeah

Just as a heads up, my regular updates might get more irregular after this chapter. I'm caught up with what I wrote for NaNoWriMo, and the chapters after this I've had to re-write completely. So they may take a little longer. Sorry about that, but I'll try my best :-)

Love you all! And drop me a comment below in appreciation of Flaniel.