It was a good few hours later when he arrived at her apartment. The car journey had been a long one; but he didn't mind, not really. He had stopped off on the way to go to the toilet in a dusty old gas station, and while he was there he had filled up the tank. He had also bought some flowers and a couple of bags of aero bubbles, her favourite chocolate, and when the aged man serving them had winked at him and said, 'are these for your girl, then?' he had found himself smiling and nodding before catching himself and shaking his head viciously with a 'no, definitely not. Never. She's most certainly not my girl.'

The man had only looked at him knowingly as he walked out of the almost empty room feeling unusually flustered.

Now, though, about to knock on Jenna's door, he felt more excited than nervous and he was glad.

When she came to the door after a minute or so of impatient bell-ringing and knocking he wasn't tongue tied, or awkward, and he felt as comfortable around her as always.

She was wearing a loose, baggy t-shirt over sweatpants, her face was void of makeup and her hair scraped back into a high ponytail, but to him, she was still beautiful, her large eyes and pointed nose emphasised by the lack of hair hanging around her face, making her look adorable.

'Matt!' She exclaimed. 'What are you doing here?' Then she added, 'Not that I'm not happy to see you. It feels like it's been forever! Come in.'

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, beaming. 'I just thought I would pay you a visit, see how you were doing. I brought you these.' And he held out the flowers and the chocolate and she smiled up at him from her tiny height.

'Thank you.' She said.

'You're welcome.'

He threw himself down on her sofa, no invitations needed. He had been here once before, just after she had moved in. It had changed a lot since then; the walls were painted with a rich, warm orange, almost fading into red. She had a very Moroccan feel to the room, he noticed. It was such at such a contrast to his own bare, white-walled flat.

Still, she spent a lot of time at home, compared with him. He was was always dashing about, meeting someone, going out to a bar, talking business – in fact, now that he actually thought about it, he never really got a chance to relax by himself properly.

But he was happy enough, and he supposed that that was all that mattered. That he was satisfied with what he had.

Although he was very unsatisfied with the fact that the one thing he craved was off limits – Jenna herself.

No, he told himself, You musn't think like that. You're friends, aren't you. You have her. It's enough.

And it was, for now. He simply wondered how long it would be until it wasn't.

'Tea? Coffee?' Jenna asked. 'It must have been a long drive.'

'It wasn't too bad.' He shrugged. 'It was worth it, anyway.' He smiled warmly at her and was rewarded with a small, but genuine, smile back. 'Oh! Coffee, please.' He answered, remembering the original question. That was him all over – always straying away from the point, getting distracted, losing track. While Jenna was neat, organised, disciplined. The more he thought about it, the more he realised how different they were. But they shared the same views on many things; the same dream. They both longed to travel, as cliché as that was. Although they did travel a bit while filming, they didn't get a chance to take it in properly as they were always being rushed about. They often talked about how they would love to go to all the different countries, of their own volition, just to relax and spend a few nights soaking in the different culture.

While Jenna went to do the coffee, he spied an empty bowl and dragged it over before pouring in the chocolate. He snagged a couple and put them in his mouth, letting them melt over his tongue and savouring the taste.

He needed to go to the toilet, also wash his face – he felt slightly hot and sticky after the long car journey.

'Jenna?' He called. 'Where's the bathroom?'

'Err, go out, third door on your right. Wind chimes on the door, should be hard to miss.'

'Thanks.'

He stepped out of the room into a slightly more bare corridor, which was painted a mint-green and reminded him of his own flat. He found the bathroom easily; like Jenna had said, it was hard to miss.

It was freezing; the window was wide open. He frowned and slid it shut. The whole house would be frozen if it stayed open. He went to the sink and turned on the tap, splashing his face with the cold, refreshing water. He couldn't see any towels to hand so he grabbed a wad of toilet paper and dried his face using that. He had a bit of trouble working out how to open the bin; after searching in vain for any handles or levers he discovered that you simply had to push down on the lid and it popped open. He averted his eyes as he saw bloody tissues inside; although he wasn't really very sure he knew it could be...a woman thing, and he wanted no part in that, thank you very much. It was just blood, really, but knowing where it came from made him feel a little awkward.

From what he had seen, though, Jenna's bin had strange contents. Although there was the usual stuff like cotton buds and packaging there were things like broken razors with the blades missing.

Then again, how would he know what was strange? For all he knew, she had a perfectly ordinary bin for a woman. He went to the toilet quickly, eager to escape the suddenly very feminine room.

He rinsed his hands and went back to the living room.

'Coffee is done.' Jenna told him as he re-entered.

'Thanks,' he said, as he sat back down next to her on the sofa. He picked up his cup and blew gently across the surface to cool it down.

There was a moment of awkward silence; but maybe it was only awkward to him.

Anyway, he had to ask her;

'Are you all right?'

'Of course.'

'Really, though.'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'Don't be silly, Jenna. How are you?'

She sighed. 'I'm okay. I'm holding up pretty well.'

I smiled at her. 'Have you talked to Daniel since the break up?'

She shook her head vehemently. 'No, and I never want to.' Then she clamped her mouth shut, as if she had said too much.

Matt chuckled. 'I don't think you're quite over it yet.'

He stood and walked to her kitchen.

'Matt, what are you doing?'

He found what he was looking for pretty quickly – a bottle of wine, and some glasses. He walked back with a triumphant grin on his face. 'This will cheer you up.'

She frowned disapprovingly. 'Matt, really. I don-'

'Come on! It's fine. Just a couple of drinks.' He looked at her searchingly. 'Please?'

She glared at him before breaking into rueful laughter.

'How is it that you always manage to get me to do exactly what you want?' She asked rhetorically.

Matt grinned and opened the bottle, pouring the glasses full.

He raised his glass and she followed. He smiled. 'To the future,' He said.

'To the future.' She echoed and they downed their drinks.