Dedicated to gingermysnap for the lovely message she left on my board the other day.

--------------------------------------------------

            The water had a personality. It wasn’t just a large mass of liquid, but a ferocious, personified monster. Its twisted watery claws wrapped around the contours of my body, their grip fluid and yet eerily vice-like. I struggled desperately against its hold, but the moving force was overpowering; my flailing limbs had close to no effect on the current dragging me backward.

            My head plunged beneath the surface, the movement too sudden to allow time for a desperate breath. Bubbles erupted from my open mouth as the salt stung my eyes, their rapid back-and-forth movement a despairing attempt to gain some sense of direction. But the water was much too uniform; it held no distinguishable features, nothing to assist in determining which way was up and which down. For all I knew, I could’ve already been spun around and turned on my head three times over.

            I thrashed hopelessly, but my balance was lacking even inland, let alone amongst the swirling torrent of the incoming waves. No matter how hard I tried, my furious kicking failed to propel me upwards, leaving me powerless against the ocean.

            That was it. I’d drown here. A stupid drunken decision, enough to kill.

            It wouldn’t have been the first time.

            I was on the brink of consciousness, floundering on the border between awareness and ignorance, when I felt the arms encircle my waist. Initially, they seemed just another extension of the water’s deadly current, yet another force to drag me in the wrong direction. There were a few seconds of delay before I noticed the stark differences between the two: the way these felt significantly less fluid, their strength and stability a perfect imitation of muscle.

            Just when I’d come to accept the fact that it was all over, I felt myself being yanked upward, and my hazy head broke the surface of the water.

            My burning lungs felt the oxygen first, gulping huge doses to make up for what they’d lost. Drifting between various states of consciousness, I became aware of the stronger force as it moved me along. I vaguely noticed a pressure on my stomach; it felt as if I’d been hooked over somebody’s shoulder. The only water I could feel now was lapping at my ankles, its level retreating further with every step forward.

            Then, suddenly, it had disappeared; even the tip of my toes had been removed from the water, finding themselves instead amongst bitingly cold air. Miraculously, the monster had retreated.

            Either that, or I’d been rescued.

            My back met a hard, rocky surface as I slipped further away from consciousness; there were other things going on around me, I was sure, but I couldn’t work them out. It was as if my whole body had been sucked of its entire energy supply, a lifeless shell left behind in its place. I was alive, I knew, but by how narrowly I wasn’t sure.

            Drifting. That was the only way to describe it, the only word suitable for my state of mind. Not conscious enough to hold awareness of my surroundings, to interact with them in the way I was supposed to, yet somehow not quite gone. Present enough to reassure myself I was still alive.

            I hadn’t drowned. I was alive.

            “Flo! Oh God, please tell me you can hear me. Please, Flo. Wake up.”

            The voice startled me; amidst the fogginess of my head, it was clearer than anything else. So clear, in fact, that I found myself able to latch right onto its tone, hang off the sound of every syllable, guiding myself back into the delicate state of reality.

            “Please. Come on, please, wake up. You have to!”

            At that moment, my eyes fluttered open. Vision returned to me all at once, revealing Daniel’s crumpled expression bent over mine, our noses mere inches away from brushing. The freckles, bizarrely, were one of the first things I noticed: a collective mass of detail across the slope of his nose that tugged me back into familiarity. For the first few seconds, all I could do was stare at him, taking in the outline of his facial features through blinking, widened eyes. The words of his desperate begging had died in his throat, leaving the two of us in silence as he gazed disbelievingly back.

            I pulled my body upwards, into a more upright position, my actions slow and controlled to ease my swimming head.

            I was going to say something, but all at once the tension shattered and what could only be described as a breathy cry of relief escaped Daniel’s lips. Before I could respond, I was enveloped by the same strong pair of arms, pulling me into his chest. With my face pressed against his shirt, my own arms wooden with surprise, the result was something of a swaying motion: a desperate, thankful hug.

            “Thank God,” I heard him breathe, his whispery voice close to my ear. “Thank God, thank God, thank God.”

            He seemed unconcerned by my lack of response, the only thing mattering was that he held my sopping form in the circle of his arms. “Oh, Jesus, I thought I’d lost you.”

            The phrase was the trigger; my heart, paralysed with shock, suddenly thawed, along with the rest of my body. Without thinking, I felt myself collapse into his grip, the physical reassurance too long overdue. My arms moved up towards his back, pressing myself closer into him. The salty water was dripping from every inch of me – from the ends of long, straggly strands of hair, my sodden clothing, which had at some point been pulled back on me, the curve of my face – but here, I was suddenly warm, my previous anger at his every fibre of being miraculously dulled into a warm, glowing heat.

            “Flo,” he started. “I’m so, so sorry.”

            I knew I should’ve said something, but my head was reeling at an incomprehensible speed, and not just from the alcohol. The words were instead a jumbled mix of letters in my head, the string that usually wove them together tangled worse than my iPod earphones. I couldn’t find it in myself to do anything more than remain still in Daniel’s arms.

            “I just… I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you,” he whispered. “It doesn’t even bear thinking about.”

            He pulled me closer, if that was even possible.

            “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’ve said it too many times, I know. But what I did was the biggest mistake I’d ever made in my life. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since it happened. It’s been torturing me non-stop.”

            The fabric of his clothing was warm: heavenly warm. It was all I could think about as I buried my nose deeper into it, trying to hide from the ferocious shivering racking my body.

            “Please… I just want you to know that if I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat. Without a doubt. I just can’t stand the thought of you being mad at me. I know you have every right to be, but… I just can’t take it. It’s too much.”

            Though my hopelessly frazzled brain could barely keep up with the rhythm of his words, the heartfelt apology shone through. Even when it did finally muddle its way through their meaning, figuring out what exactly to do with them was a whole other matter. At present, I wanted nothing more than to snuggle closer to Daniel, to forgive him for everything he’d done just so that I could stay caught up in his reassuring hug. To stay enclosed in that safe little bubble, protected from the atrocities of the outside world.

            It was what I wanted. I just wasn’t sure if my judgement was impaired by a combination of the alcohol, crippling shock of almost drowning and my emotional vulnerability.

            “Please,” he said again, his head ducking further, until I could feel his warm breath on the skin of my ear. “I need you to give me a second chance.”

            It hit me then: the startling obvious, staring me right in the face. “You saved my life,” I whispered.

            “Of course I did,” he answered, seeming surprised by my sudden realisation. “What did you think I was going to do? Stand there and watch you drown?”

            “I don’t know…”

            “I couldn’t take it if I lost you,” he said, his grip tightening, holding me close as if scared of the consequences of letting go. “You’re the most important thing in my life. Honestly, I…” He paused, searching for the words inside the depths of his mind.

            They weren’t what I was expecting.

            “I love you.”

            My surprise had me pulling back, but the envelope of Daniel’s arms allowed only a limited range of movement. I didn’t know what on earth I was about to say in response; my lips were acting entirely of their own accord as they parted. “I…”

            “Look, I know it’s crazy because you probably hate my guts right now,” he stammered, the gaps between each word vanishing so they came as one continuous stream. “And you have every right to. I understand that. I just have to tell you. I honestly don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this summer without you. You’re everything I was looking for. I just didn’t realise it until you were already gone.”

            Brown met hazel as I stared, utterly dumbstruck, back at him, searching the region behind his eyes for the faintest hint of exaggeration. All I could spot, however, was a huge, swallowing vat of sincerity.

            “Florence Kennedy,” he whispered, “I love you. So, so much.”

            I was meant to do something. That much I could work out from the silence, tugging at and stretching the mental space between us, each second pulling Daniel’s confession further and further away. The moment was dissipating right before my eyes, crumbling into its constituents, threatening to pass completely if I didn’t reach out and grab it.

            I’d been determined to hate Daniel for what he’d done. The extent of his misunderstanding had been cruelly felt on my part, and I hadn’t expected to be able to forget that any time soon. Yet here, frail and shivering, my face mere inches away from his own, I found myself melting under the warmth of his honesty. There was just something about the look in his eyes that told me he meant every word; the mistake was fiercely imprinted into his memory.

            He truly was sorry, and in that moment, I was a goner.

            And, swallowing, I found myself saying, “I love you too.”

            The space, both physical and mental, snapped into nonexistence as I fell back into the cradle of Daniel’s chest. Our position shifted unexpectedly as his arms retracted from around me; I was confused until I felt the soft fabric of his jacket draped over my shoulders. It wasn’t enough to stop the shivering completely, but at least it acted as a barrier against the wind whistling around us, making the biting chill that little bit less severe.

            “You could do with a foil blanket, or something,” he said quietly, the smile evident through his tone. “But I don’t think that was one of the things Jay had stashed away in the cooler.”

            I found myself laughing: the type of light, carefree laughter that rose through my body like helium being pumped into a balloon.

            “I’m sorry,” I mumbled eventually, when it died away and I leant further into Daniel’s hug, “for being stupid.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “Going swimming was a really stupid idea,” I told him. “I was just caught up in the moment. Hopelessly drunk. I still am. I should’ve listened to you.”

            “Shh, don’t be silly. We all do things we regret. Believe me, I know,” he assured me. “But what matters is that things have worked out in the end. That’s all we can focus on. The past is the past; it’s right now that counts. Right?”

            And in that very moment, right there, I realised it was true. My head might’ve been hopelessly scrambled, thoughts swirling and churning every which way inside, but I came to my senses long enough to ponder over Daniel’s words. The past was fixed, set permanently in stone. No matter how long you spent wishing things could be different, they never would be. The only power than lay in hand was that of the present, and consequently the future: fresh clay, ready to be shaped and moulded at our fingertips.

            We couldn’t change what had already happened. Not the events of three days ago, or those of three years. But we were here, clinging to each other beneath the darkening night sky, and before us the endless possibilities stretched.

            And as he planted the gentlest of kisses on my forehead, I breathed an audible sigh of relief.

            “Daniel?” I murmured several minutes later, breaking into the moment of the hug that seemed to be stretching into forever.

            He shifted above me. “Yeah?”

            “Do you think… maybe… you could take me home?”

            “Oh.” He softened. “Yeah. Of course.”

            Slowly emerging from the bubble of the moment, Daniel rose to his feet first to help me up. I wobbled a little initially, my legs unsteady under the weight of my trembling body, but his arms met my waist before my balance even had a chance to falter. With his support I moved forward, grateful that the reeling of my head seemed to be subsiding slightly with each step.

            The others were gathered some distance away from us along the beach, evidently having sensed that it was better to leave us to our time alone. Their collective expression of concern, however, turned to one of breathtaking relief when they noticed me up and walking, relatively unharmed from my experience.

            Under the spotlight of their attention, I couldn’t help but feel ashamed. Even mild intoxication was no excuse for my dangerous stupidity. But I managed a smile, which, thankfully, was reflected back.

            Trekking along the Walden coastline towards the town took longer than I expected, but Daniel remained remarkably patient. I seemed to stumble over every pebble out of place on the beach, almost falling flat on my face several times. Yet on every occasion I was steadied immediately, caught and pulled back into position by the guy at my side, upright as if I’d never tripped at all.

            What must’ve been at least half an hour had crawled by when we finally reached the trailing road up to Gram’s cul-de-sac; when the roof of her cottage finally came into view, I exhaled with content. The night had been a long one, and now I wanted nothing more than to crawl underneath the warm covers of my bed and sleep off the short-term effects. There was sure to be hell to pay in the form of a hangover in the morning, but I’d have to deal with that later.

            Daniel held onto my hand as we made our way towards the front door of the cottage, fumbling himself around in my bag for the key. I thought he would leave me at the door, plant a kiss on my forehead and depart with the promise of calling me in the morning, but he surpassed my expectations. Moving inside the eerily empty kitchen, darkness pooled in the corners of the room, he closed the door behind us and set my bag down on the counter.

            He refused to leave until I’d taken a hot shower, emerging from the bathroom in long pyjama bottoms and my comfiest T-shirt. As I climbed into bed, relishing the sensation of fabric against skin when my feet slipped between the mattress and the duvet, he bent over to brush his lips softly against my forehead.

            His tone was comforting, forging a path across to me in the darkness. “Goodnight.”

            But as he tried to untwine his fingers from mine, I found myself struck by an inexplicable sense of longing; it might’ve been a rush of drunken emotion, but I couldn’t bring myself to watch Daniel leave. Not after I’d only just got him back.

            “Wait,” I said suddenly.

            He stopped in his tracks, peering at me curiously. “What?” he asked. “Do you need something else?”

            “Stay with me?” I burst out, the ends of the words running into one another to form a garbled rush. Taking hold of his hand once more, I linked our fingers, wishing there was some way I could live without ever having to break them apart. It was ridiculous, I knew, that drunken thought. Still, that didn’t stop it from running across my mind. “I don’t want you to go.”

             His gaze swept over me briefly, melting slightly when it met my pleading expression. But just as the impulsive response was about to leave his lips, he changed his mind, a shake of his head replacing earlier words. “Flo, you’ve had too much to drink,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I’m not going to take advantage of you like that.”

            I, too, shook my head, though the vigorous action sent the room momentarily toppling to one side. “I don’t mean like that,” I told him. “I just… I need you. Like that other night.”

            The very moment was being replayed in his head too, I could tell. The thoughtful glaze across his eyes served as a giveaway that he was back there again, staring back at me in the foggy darkness of his landing, hardly present. The combined memory seemed almost powerful enough to send us both back in time.

            “Flo,” he said eventually. “What will your gram  think when she wakes up and finds me in your room with you?”

            “She’s not here,” I whispered. “She’s staying with a friend for the night, out of town. It’s for some art conference she’s going to.”

            He looked at me for what felt like an incredibly long moment – so much so that I began to wonder if the part of my brain responsible for timekeeping had failed, leaving me frozen in a snapshot of time. “Nothing has to happen,” I breathed. “I just really need you here.”

            He considered it for a moment longer, before finally moving forward, squeezing my palm with his own.

            “In that case,” he said slowly, just as my heart melted, “I’m not going anywhere.”

------------------------------

So, there we go. The second-to-last chapter of Vanilla. Chances are, this story will be finished by next week. The thought kind of makes me want to cry.

I will be holding a one-shot competition after the story has ended -- I'll be posting details in a week or two. I hope some of you are planning on entering, because I'd absolutely love to read your one-shots about all the characters in this story :) So, for the second last time, thank you so much for all the support on this story. I love you guys unbelievable amounts.

My writer's tumblr is warmblanketcoldday.tumblr.com if you're interested in character profiles, fan-art/banners, or asking me questions about writing!