Shivering in the cool summer breeze, he drew his thin sweater closer, blocking her shivering from view. Cars continued to idly by on the street ahead, humming as lazily as the evening air, but still they didn't talk. As the dimming afterglow of the sunset washed over the Miami strip, he cursed his luck, his difficult friends and his stubborn personality. She shuffled beside him on the cold doorstep, her skirt grazing his bare knee, letting out an equally sulky huff.

Fists clenching, unclenching, clenching again, he grumbled in annoyance, wishing to be somewhere else. But no. They had to talk. Well, really Trish had demanded that he grovel and beg for her mercy, but there was no way in hell he was going to back down. She could snap, shout or hit him all she liked, but he would never admit he was obviously wrong.

"My gods, you're just as stubborn as her! Get your ass out there and apologise already! I'm not letting either of you in until you're friends again." Trish's voice echoed in his head as he subconsciously rubbed his lower back, where her footprint still lingered.

Friends.

Huh.

Funny how five hours ago, they were just that, friends. Five hours ago, she was still willing to put up with his shit. But four hours and fifty five minutes ago, she had stormed out, leaving him to kick over the piano stool in frustration. It had taken him a further ten minutes to realise what had just happened and since then, well.

Glancing down at his tapping foot, he watched as the odd specks of icing sugar bounced amongst the dirt, as if to spite him. He though he'd gotten rid of it all. Bloody icing sugar. His foot grazed the side of the woven basket he had 'borrowed' from his mum, lined with a freshly pressed tea towel, laden with homemade muffins that were slowly staling as they refused to talk. In a way, they really did speak louder than words, they both knew that, but whoever broached the subject first was the loser in this argument.

Frowning at the peace offering, he pondered over the pros and cons of finally opening his mouth. He really did hate this. He knew how much it sucked not talking to her. But every time he got angry with her, the stopper on his mouth seemed to be unleashed and his brain squirreled that file away for a rainy day. But his ego had gotten in the way…again.

She hummed something under her breath, followed by a light curse that had the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. Every time a swear word fell from Ally Dawson's lips, it made an Austin Moon chuckle. They glanced at each other for the first time before quickly looking away again, acting like those cliché chick flicks Dez loved. Just as the silence was about to reach it's point, a loud burst of music suddenly filled the air, making him instinctively look towards the road. A car rolled by with the windows down, radio blasting.

"…run out, time's up, over, bloah! Snap back to reality-"

"Oh, there goes gravity." They both murmured before freezing. A different silence had befallen them now. He found himself wanting to thank the obnoxious driver.

She was looking at him out of the corner of her eye now, as he fidgeted, trying to find the right way to approach this. Taking a deep breath, he turned towards her quickly, causing the basket to tip, spilling the muffins across her footpath. They stared at one bouncing, blueberry muffin until it finally came to a stop amongst the sad looking bouquet of sunflowers laying at her feet. That was it all it took.

Again the silence was different, one they were use to now as they leaned against each, trying to stifle their laughing.

"Hehe, the-the m-muffin…" she chuckled breathlessly, earning a girly giggle from him.

"T-those sunflowers…" he responded once he had some air in his lungs. Her face flushed a brilliant red in the dying light, making him grin. "I thought you hated sunflowers."

"I do," she grumbled, pulling away from his shoulder, "Bloody plants. Sprouting up wherever and whenever they feel like, all summer long, towering above you, their heads always seeming to watching you. They're creepy."

"You're just short…and paranoid."

"They're creepy."

"They're gorgeous."

"You only like them because they're yellow."

"And you only hate them because you're a pipsqueak. OW!"

"Serves you right." She teased, sticking her nose in the air in satisfaction as he rubbed his sore arm. Grinning he reached around her to pick up the dishevelled looking flowers, waving them questioningly at her.

"So, if you hate these so much, why are these sad looking things sitting at your feet? And why are you covered in seeds and petals?" he asked, picking a petal out of her fringe. Guilty, she reached up to comb her fingers through her hair, showering her lap with the seeds. Suddenly she turned shy again, not looking him in the eye.

"Ally?"

She shuffled uncomfortably, her foot knocking the scattered muffins, reminding them of their presence. Bending down to pick one up, she latched onto the chance to take the attention off her and waved it in his face.

"Well, what's with the muffins? I thought you couldn't bake, let alone cook for that matter."

"I can! Well, if you count toast, noodles and pancakes as cooking. Oh, and these obviously." He snapped, trying to snatch the baked good from her, but she just held it away.

"Answer me Austin."

"Not until you tell me the truth Ally."

Another stalemate. He could tell she wasn't going to back down any time soon either. It was rather dark now. Windows filled with light one by one around the neighbourhood, including from the house behind them, bathing the teens in a silhouette, but still they didn't move.

"I wanted to apologise."

She jolted, startled by his sudden confession. He couldn't help but sigh in relief as the words tumbled from his lips, the dark helping to hide his blush.

"What I did was stupid, and I regretted it not long after you left. After Trish came upstairs and gave me an earful for hurting you, I raced over here, trying to find you. But you had disappeared. So, I went back to Trish, and she explained that you weren't going to listen to me unless I offered some sort of token of an apology. We spent a good hour or so trying to decide on what to do, and then Dez came in with these pastries, and I remembered how much you liked Blueberry muffins and so I went home, and-and well, let's just say mum won't be impressed when she sees the sink…or the counter…or her oven, but I finally made a successful batch, and came here and…"he trailed off, running out of steam to finish his ramble, but from what he could see, she had understood. Trailing a fingernail through the icing sugar coated muffin, she murmured, "Thanks."

Clearing her throat after a moment, she nodded at the flowers in his hands. "Um, those were for the same thing. I wanted to apologise as well. When I left, I was so mad at you, I almost threw out all of our songs. I was this close Austin," she said, holding up her forefinger and thumb, barely a width of air between them, "but…but something held me back. I was busy letting out my anger by scribbling devil horns and moustaches on all my photos of you, that when I came across this one, I just stopped."

In the faint light, he looked at the folded picture she handed him, just making out a flash of gold and yellow. He knew which one it was straight away, and had a funny feeling where this story was going.

"Everything came back with the picture. You know how they say, 'a picture says a thousand words'? Whelp, this one screamed them at me. Next thing I knew, I was jogging down this path, trying to put on my wedges, satchel flung across my back as I tried to catch the bus that was pulling away from the kerb down the road. I was halfway across the city before I realised didn't even know where I was going, until I saw these awful flowers in someone's garden. Long story short, I was nearly hit with a shoe and a dog chased me over the fence, but I managed to escape with these." She sighed, nodding towards the sunflowers in his hands. "I went to your house to see you, but when Trish txt me saying that you were here, I…" she shrugged, not needing to finish. He just stared at her in amazement.

"You jumped someone's fence to steal me flowers?" He asked incredulously. She blushed.

"You braved your mother's wrath and an oven to bake me these muffins?" It was his turn to blush.

"…I'm sorry."

"…Me too."

"Just promise me, next time you go BAMF, I'm there to witness it?" She grinned and held out a hand for him to shake.

"Just as long as I get to see you in your mum's 'Kiss the Cook' apron next time."