"Daniel, can we move?"

The male with the unruly dark hair which he'd been mercilessly running his hands through for the past half hour looked up to meet Cathy's eyes. "Move?"

"Yes." Cathy perched on the arm of the settee facing the aforementioned male. "Move house."

"Move house?"

"Yes, Dan. Aren't you bored of this place yet?"

He stared at her incredulously. "No."

She sighed. "I want to move."

"We're not moving, Cath. We've only been here for, what, seven months? This isn't a socially acceptable time to run off into the sunset."

"Hardly the sunset," she picked at the threadwork on the settee. "Just a few miles westward or something."

"Why the hell do you want to move house?"

She shrugged. "I'm bored."

"Normal people don't just move house when they're bored."

"When I lived with my Mum we did it all the time."

He groaned. "Don't pull that again. Your Mum's fucking rich. She has the means to do whatever she pleases, whenever she pleases."

Cathy glared at him. "Are we going to move house or what?"

"Forget it."

There was a silence that spanned for all of twenty seconds. It was tense and awkward and made them both shift uneasily in their places.

"Danny."

"We're not moving fucking house!"

"I think I should go."

Daniel looked up again. "Go?"

"Yeah."

"Go where?"

"Norwich."

His eyebrow twitched. "Norwich." His voice was dull and disbelieving.

"There's a football match on tonight – Norwich City against Newcastle. Meant to be pretty good."

He couldn't think of anything to say.

"It's been a fun year, Dan." She smiled hesitantly at him.

His mouth dropped open. "Is this whole 'I'm off to a football match' thing your way of saying you're leaving me?"

She pressed her lips together.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Not really."

"You're leaving because I refuse to move house spontaneously?"

She frowned. "Well it's not-"

"You're not going."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I am."

"I'm locking the doors and hiding the key."

"Daniel, I can't miss the match!" She felt her heart beat a little faster in panic as he lifted himself off the floor where he had been studying and moved to bolt the door shut.

"There'll be plenty more that we can go to together."

Cathy stood up, tugging at some strands of her hair nervously. "I really shouldn't miss the match."

He turned to look at her. Her breath caught in her throat slightly – he looked goddamned handsome when he was pissed off. "It'll be fine Cath, it's not like you've pre paid or anything."

Her bottom lip trembled.

His eyes widened.

"You pre paid?"

She bit the unruly lip.

"You fucking pre paid!" His knuckles were white as they gripped the door handle, and there was a devastating mixture of frustration and hurt in his eyes which she couldn't miss, no matter how hard she tried. "You've been planning this, haven't you? Your very own sick, twisted test to see if I'm worthy. If I go along with the stupid fuckery you come up with on the spot, then yes, you'll stay, and we go to the match together. If I refuse, then you go alone, and that's it for Dan and Cathy. Never mind feelings and such bullshit. You make the choices, don't you?"

"It's not a test," her voice shook. "It's just – maybe we're not going to get on that well, you know?"

"We've been together nearly a year." He was resting his head against the door now, the only sign of his remaining frustration being the hand gripping the handle.

"But I'm weird, Dan. Wanting to move house spontaneously isn't the only thing I'll want to do in the future – and maybe I need someone weird and you need someone more... normal. And less annoying." She looked at the side of his face, her stomach churning unpleasantly.

He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "You're not annoying."

"You look pretty annoyed."

"That's because the girl of my dreams is threatening to leave me and spend her time watching other guys running up and down a field."

Girl of his dreams?

He was silent for a moment.

"Do you remember that time when you woke me up in the middle of the night and said you had a sudden urge to go to a jazz club?"

She nodded.

"We went, didn't we? Made complete prats of ourselves dancing, and it was brilliant."

She tugged slightly harder on her hair.

"Once you wanted to tie-dye every single piece of underwear you owned. I did it with you. More than half of my boxers still look like a rainbow has shat on them."

She was wearing her tie-dye bra right now.

"There was the time your sister called and said she was pregnant, and we knitted scarves for her all night because you thought she'd get cold... and you were scared shitless of becoming an aunt and you needed something to do with your hands."

She was finding it suspiciously difficult to swallow. Daniel turned to face her fully.

"I'm not as creative as you, Cath. Maybe I'm tipped more on the normal side of the spectrum than weird... but I'm still crazy about you." His voice was low and his eyes searching. Cathy felt herself take an involuntary step towards him.

"I don't want to move house. But I do want to spend as much time as I possibly can with you, doing stupid things and feeling great afterwards."

Another step.

"It's sort of up to you, isn't it?"

So close now.

"I want you." His voice was a mere whisper now, making her shiver with pleasure. "But it all really depends... on whether you want me."

There were only a few inches separating them. Unwittingly, she had moved across the whole length of the room, desperate to get close enough to grab his words and hold onto them forever. Her lips lifted a little.

"I love you so much."

Because who else would wake up in the middle of the night and go to a jazz club with her?

His eyes cleared and crinkled slightly at the corners. "Yeah?"

She grinned. "Yeah." Her hand lifted to run down the front of his shirt, resting eventually against his stomach. "Sometimes I just need you to confirm that you still like me."

I wanted to get out before you could say you didn't... because that would kill me...

His grin matched hers as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dragged her soft body against his. "I still like you."

"Good."

Her lips pressed softly against his, warming him to the core.

"You know... I wouldn't mind going to that football match."

I have risen from the dead.

Yippee.

A life without writing and stock-full of studying is officially clinically depressive and a huge waste. I've missed this shit.

This was written really quickly. Like really quickly. Bit of a brain fart really. And pretty random. Ah well.

Listening to The Fratellis on REPEAT.

Lots of love xx