Woo-hoo! Another chapter out before a full week?! WHOO! Yay for me! Enjoy guys!

Maui Deeming couldn't think to fully process the events of last night that had played out in his head. The images of everything that had happened flickered and lingered deviously amongst his skull. The way how he recalled seeing Moana in that kitchen, hunched over on the ground like a rapid dog fighting what was left of its withering breath. The amount of blood that had been coughed up from her veins. Her pleading voice beginning him not to have dialed 9-1-1 just as he had been determined to do. He remembered everything. It was vivid in his mind, like a gory horror movie that seemed to be on repeat without as much of a legit purpose.

But she had insisted that she was fine. Claimed that it was normal.

There was absolutely nothing about that that one would consider to be normal.

The blaring of the sun's fluorescent rays leaking through the cracks of the shutters in the small window of his bathroom located at the top left corner, had forced Maui to awaken from his thoughts with a heavy sigh. Unaware that he was letting thoughts and those images consume him. Staring at his ragged reflection in the glass mirror, he switches on the tap, relieved to hear the sound of the water guzzling from the tap as it crashes against the sink with a soothing whoosh and he doesn't hesitate to cups his large hands underneath the tap, scooping up a large puddle of water and splashes it onto his face. The warm water concealing his moistened flesh, appeasing to his skin and eager to wash away any traces of fatigue that lingered.

He hadn't realized just how much his thoughts had been consuming him when he walks out of the bathroom and sees that a new text message had popped up on the tiny screen of his phone. As he grabs it from the end table and laces his fingers around the small device, he hammered the standby button and blinked as the bright screen glinted in his eyes.

From: Nani Pelekai

Hey everyone! Just a reminder that there will be a mandatory meeting with the RBC officials today at 9:00am sharp. Please arrive to work at 8:00am. NO later.

He rolls his eyes. Of course he had a meeting. Another meeting. How could he possibly forget? Considering the fact that it seemed as if his job had been consisting of him showing up to get a fat pay check by just sitting in a board room all day while having to listen to boring ideas about ways on how the company should be improved. Besides, this meeting was the least of his worries.

He doesn't waste any time as he's wiggling into his dress pants and throwing on his white dress shirt with the matching black socks to add to the picture. He's not sure exactly how he was going to react when he would eventually see her. Nor was he sure of what he was going to say to her. Or even how he would act overall around her. Especially since it would be much difficult for him to even look at her the same knowing that that image of her literally drowning in her own blood would still invade his thoughts.

It wasn't like he could just blurt out 'good morning! Cough up any more blood last night? Should've just drove you to the hospital like I said!' No. Nope. Absolutely not. And it wasn't like he could really ask her about whether or not that what he had seen last night was normal. She was lying. Everything word that had come out of her mouth that night was a lie. A big one.

And he knew she was lying.

She was hiding something. And right now, Maui wasn't sure whether or not he was wanting to find out what that something was? Or if maybe brushing it off like it was nothing would be the better route. Though the first option was indeed tempting, he did have to remind himself that he and Moana were still in the early stages of establishing some sort of relationship. Still, they barely knew each other. And it was only just two days ago where they were finally able to begin communicating with one another. So maybe, the second option seemed like it would be a more realistic decision for him to do.

Though the temptation to maybe do some investigating was still there.

So when he finally finds himself dressed and ready to go, briefcase in hand as he pauses in the entrance leading towards the kitchen, he's not sure what to think of when he sees her gracefully moving about in the kitchen. His body is still, gaze fixed on her person as he inhales sharply through his nose. She was fiddling with the kettle, patiently waiting for the water to finish boiling. Then she glides towards the cabinet, retrieving two matching mugs with palm trees painted on them. One of the many gifts that were presented to her mother and to her father on their tenth wedding anniversary. She seemed to be too much in her own little bubble, too preoccupied to realize that another person's presence was lingering in the doorway.

Or, maybe she did notice but decided to keep her back turned. Whatever it was, it wasn't only the fact that her back was still turned towards him, or the fact that she may or may not have decided to act oblivious to the fact that he was standing in the doorway with his eyes glued to her back that seemed to trouble Maui. It was that, plus the sound of humming that soon followed.

Maui blinked. Dumbfounded. For some reason as his eyes continued to glaze over and follow each movement her profile made, he pictured the events of what had occurred last night right here in this kitchen. Bent over on the ground with droplets of blood hanging from the tips of her tongue. Gasping and hacking for her dear life. And yet, here she was, humming with her back to the world. Her hum has a happiness; there's something carefree about the notes as they fill up the kitchen. She leans towards the kettle, inhaling the clouded steam as it seeped through her nostrils.

At this point, Maui opens and closes his mouth, no intention of disturbing her, but at the same time, wanting her to acknowledge his presence, and instead decides to focus on soaking in the sound. Her hum is more beautiful than the softest of singers. After all, who was he to interrupt something so beautiful and replace it with the gruesome events of the night before? It wasn't like she was going to turn around any minute and say 'good morning Maui! Oh by the way, I coughed up more blood last night! But no biggie! It's totally normal!' No. It definitely wasn't like that. He knew that. And for some strange reason, she knew that too.

He finally exhales, sets his briefcase against the doorway and enters into the kitchen. It wasn't going to do any good if he just continued to stand there like a mindless zombie and not make his presence known.

He clears his throat. "Morning." He leans against the counter with his hands wedged in the pit of his pant pockets.

She whirls around with the kettle in her grasp. "Good morning Maui!" She beams with a wide smile. "Did you have a good sleep?"

I wish. He shrugs. "Uh…sure." Then he stares at her. "Did you?"

"Oh yes! Of course!" She fills each cup of with the steaming hot water pouring out of the kettle. "Slept like a baby!"

There's a lie between those words. Slipping out easily like melted butter on warm summer's day.

"Oh yea?"

"Mhm!" She places the kettle back in its little crate, then sifts through the drawers to retrieve two spoons. "Here's you go." She smiles as she gently places his cup of coffee in front of him with the spoon standing proudly in the depths of the roasted liquid beans to add to the mix. "Black with two sugars, just how you like it."

He was dumfounded. Gaze darting between the steaming hot coffee and her seemingly perky profile. "Uh….yea….right." He blinks as he cautiously grabs hold of his mug. "…thanks."

"You're welcome!"

Is she okay….?

Maui's not sure what to make of this situation that seems to be unfolding before his very eyes at the moment. It was like watching one of those obscure crime shows where a gruesome murder had just taken place and there's blood stains everywhere that could easily resemble a bloody massacre and then the next thing he knew, the crime scene was immediately wiped clean of its contents, making it seem as though the murder was all some sort of ploy to provoke the protagonist to go completely insane.

And as his gaze followed her person as she moved graciously to sit at the granite counter and plop down on the cushiony barstool with her tea in hand, Maui suddenly understood the meaning behind the story of 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf'. It was all too absurd for his liking.

She's stirring the contents of her sugar with her spoon to blend in with her tea, her smile meeting his gaze. "Hey," She pulls out the stool next to her, and eagerly pats the seat. "Come sit with me."

Maui tries not to narrow his eyes. Eyeing the seat before meeting her eager gaze once again. There was definitely something that seemed off about her this morning. Or maybe, just maybe, he may have been reading too much into it. He wasn't sure. But right now, all he really could do was to oblige and convince himself not to think anything of it. After all, it was the morning. And for the past month he's been here, he's seen how earnest she was in the mornings. Maybe it may have just been a reflection of that.

But who could really be sure?

He takes the seat next to her and sips on his coffee. He's not sure what to say. Or exactly how he was supposed to start up a conversation with a brand new topic instead of the one who originally had in mind.

"So, anything new or interesting happening at work for you today?"

The question had caught him off guard. Actually, it had caught him off guard a lot. That was definitely the complete opposite of what he had been expecting.

He steals another sip of his hot drink. "Uh, nothing really." He scratches the back of his neck. "Just some stupid meeting we have to attend this morning."

"Oh, I see." She nods and tilts her mug to her mouth. Even her tiny slurping he strangely finds endearing to his ears. "Sounds pretty interesting."

"Not really." He scrunches up his nose. "Our meetings are usually very boring."

She smiles. "I'm sure they're not the bad."

"Oh trust me, you have no idea."

"Really? Try sitting in a meeting at my work for a change." She rolls her eyes and chuckles. "Three hours of either discussing ideas to write about fur coats, Coach Bags or Louis Vuitton heels? If that's not considered 'boring', then I don't what is."

He gives a curt nod, smirking. "Sounds pretty rough."

"Tell me about it."

"Eh, but it sounds much more interesting than having to discuss taxes and talk about other billing companies and so forth."

"At this point, I would rather hear about taxes than shoes and clothes." She sighs. "Honestly, if I have to hear anything more about women's clothing and accessories, then I will shoot someone."

He laughs at this. "Damn, Curly." Then he turns to look at her. "I didn't know you had mean streak in you."

She giggles. "Trust me, there's a lot about me you don't know about."

There it is! She's laying it right there on the table! Go for it!

And he wants to. He really does. The way how his gaze is roaming over her profile from head to toe, considering, he's fighting against the little voice in his head that's giving him a list of reasons as to why he shouldn't. But as the other little voice in his mind was saying, she's laying it right out in the open. It's the only chance he has left if he's going to crack the code once and for all. He swallows, opens his mouth to speak, until she's quick to beat him to it.

"I just wanted to thank you again for dinner." She smiles. "I didn't get a chance to when we were talking last night."

Fuck. Almost had it! "Oh….I uh…." He blinks. "Sure, not a problem." He tells her, nodding. "I'm uh….I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Really," And his heart thuds against his chest as his eyes fall the movement of her little hand going to rest gently on top of his large one. "I appreciate it. A lot." Her smile widens, stretching. "So thank you."

He gulps. "Y-you're welcome."

And something about the feeling of her soft supple skin meeting his brought a calm feeling to his insides. He felt warm. It was that same tingly feeling he got when they first shook hands back at Lalotai. The feeling of familiarity that coursed through his veins. The comfort in which his body craved. There was something about her touch that seemed so genuine, so loyal, it felt as if there was a sense of reassurance and acceptance that he never in his life thought he would ever find.

But then again, he was still just getting to know her. To really know her.

"And also," Her voice breaks through his thoughts. "I um…I wanted to thank you for paying the rent on time."

He smirks. "You don't have to thank me for that, Curly." He says. "I have to pay you at some point."

"I know." She nods. "But…..about the….extra two hundred that you gave me…." She stares at him. "I-"

"Keep it."

"W-what?"

"I said keep it."

She blinks. "But, Maui….I can't just-"

"It's your to keep, Moana." He's mindful that her hand is still rested amongst his. "You can use it whatever else you need."

"But-"

"No buts. No objections." He looks at her, studying her features. "It's yours."

"A-are…..are you sure?"

"Moana, I wouldn't have given you the extra money if I wasn't sure." His tone is soft and gentle, though there's determination that lingers. "So believe me when I say 'I'm sure'."

Moana just stares at him. Considering his words and him. "O-okay."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Gazes trained one another. And Moana wasn't sure if they may have been participating in some sort of a staring contest, or if there was something between them that was beginning to heat up. She didn't know. But the look that he was giving her, she could only feel certain that maybe there was in him that he felt for her too. Just as she was certain herself that she was feeling something for him. Gazing into each other's eyes longingly, not a word spoken by either of them. At this point, Moana was certain that she was getting lost within the breathless paradise of his dreamy eyes. The heat in her cheeks were evident. The pits of her stomach doing jumping jacks. The way her heart swelled like a balloon and rammed against her bones and flesh. Her mouth losing its moisture and slipping into thin strips of dried skin.

Ask her already! The voice inside Maui's head was screaming at him. Here was his second chance.

"How are you feeling by the way?"

Definitely not what she had expected to come out of his mouth. But the second it was out, her body froze. The rosiness in her cheeks slipping to the depths of paleness. She swallows, shaking her head as she presents him with that same smile she was always good at using for her best performances.

"Oh, I'm fine!" She immediately tears her hand from his, leaving him feeling slightly disappointed. "I'm feeling much better now that you ask!"

Another lie.

"And you're sure about that, right?"

"Of course!" She nods and goes to take another sip of her now cold tea. "Why wouldn't I be?"

(Liar)

Go in for the plunge!

(He's not sure if he should do this)

He inhales, then says, "Moana, about last night…." There it is. It's there. "…I think-"

"It was nothing!" She pipes in. "No need to worry!"

(Liar)

He furrows his brows. "Moana, you were coughing up a lot of blood." Then he shakes his head. "You should've just let me take you the hospital."

"Maui, you worry too much." And there's that same smile he's beginning to know all too well. The perfect mask as a means to fool the dumbest of them all. "I'm fine. It was nothing. I promise you that."

"I'm not sure if I believe that."

"It's the truth. I'm being honest. I swear."

(Lies upon lies upon more lies)

"Moana, at least-"

"Shit!" She curses as she chances a quick peak down at her watch. "It's already 7:05! We gotta head out now!"

(Of course)

"But, Moana-"

"No time, Maui!" She grabs her cup and takes a big gulp. "We have to get going otherwise we'll both be late!"

She jumps off the barstool before Maui can get another word out. She reaches over to swipe her keys and phone from the counter and dashes towards the family room to unplug her laptop from the plug. Maui inhales another sharp breath, closing his eyes as he mentally counts to ten. Then to fifteen. She was right. It was 7:05 as he read on his own watch. And truth be told, he didn't want them to have to spend an hour sitting in traffic while they both stressed the worst about arriving late to work. That wasn't part of his itinerary he had for today.

He takes one last gulp of the last drop of his coffee and moves to slip off his seat. Noting that Moana was in such a hurry to get out of here (more like to escape the depths of a possible interrogation), her mug was left behind on the counter. He goes to pick up her mug with his own in hand, until his eyes land on the one thing he never expected to see. An alarming view that caused his insides to twist and churn.

He was right not to buy in to her ridiculous lies. The thick scarlet encircled around the rims of where her lips had touched confirming his suspicions. The bright red trail blinking devilishly up at him. It was a good thing he wasn't a stupid person who was oblivious to the universe. His eyes seeming unable to find the courage to part ways from the evidence that penetrated through his organs. Every word that tumbled out of her mouth was a lie. There was absolutely no doubt about that.

"Maui! You ready? Hurry or else we'll be late!"

And it was a good thing that her voice proved that her person was no longer present in family room. Or the kitchen like he had feared. Pretty much telling him that she was seconds from exiting through the front door all set and ready to go.

"Uh, yea!" He calls back. "I'm coming!"

He carefully places the mugs into the sink. Unaware that his hands had been shaking. He takes one last look at the blood covered mug that's stained, inhales a sharp breath through his nostrils, and reluctantly goes to claim his briefcase and exit the kitchen.

And for the entire drive down, he can't shake away the thoughts that continue to haunt him.

Moana rubbed her sore temples and wished on whatever ridiculous stars there were that she could just pick up and leave for the day. Or maybe get some Advil. Advil would help. But it unfortunate that she had forgotten to carry an extra bottle in her purse. But that was because of two reasons. One being that she was now a prisoner and under the ruthless rules of her wicked witch of a boss. And unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any pharmacies nearby that she could easily just run across the street to pick some up and slip back in with no one watching.

And two, being that she had been in such a rush this morning that she hadn't realized she was completely out of the Advil that her poor temples desperately needed. But the reason for her being in a rush was to escape from the depths of having to endure some sort of interrogation that Maui seemed so determined to pry out of her. So in her defense, she needed to do what she had done. She needed to do everything in her power to have gotten out of that situation.

She couldn't risk him finding out about her. Finding about her condition.

Not now. Especially not now. Not when she and him were on the road to developing a relationship. Now was not a good time. And truth be told, she wasn't sure if it would ever be a good time. All she knew was that he couldn't find out. She wasn't going to let him. No matter how hard he tried, she wasn't going to allow it.

Last night had been a mistake. She hadn't meant for her to be reacting the way that she had done. One minute, she had been thirsty and was wanting a glass of water. And then the next, it was as if everything had happened to fast that it hit barreled into her like a ton of bricks. She especially hadn't expected that she would participate in coughing up another blood bath. Thankfully to her, it hadn't been as horrible as she had expected it to be. After all, it had been worse. Much worse than last night.

So to say, she was right about one thing. Her coughing up blood once in a while was normal in a sense. But normal for different reasons. Reasons that she couldn't bear to discuss with him.

After all, Moana was fully mindful at the thought of the negative reactions her body would experience knowing what her chemotherapy treatments would entail. And she knew that so well that it had been pretty much been nearly a month and a half since she had attended her last chemotherapy appointment. The day that her boss, Gothel, had literally threatened to fire her was the day that Moana had decided to put her appointments on hold.

Just thinking about her abrupt decision caused her head to ache more than it had aching before. Her mind was worn from the amount of stress and over-thinking she was forcing her brain to carry. She only wished she could just drop everything she was doing and just hop on a plane that would take her to any place tropical where her only worries consisted of whether or not how much Vitamin D her body needed to soak up and how often she needed to take a divulge in a much needed sea bath in the ocean her skin needed to feed on.

If only…..

The buzzing from her phone vibrating against her glass desk had broken her away from her thoughts. No doubt that it was an incoming call. And to add more stress to carry on her shoulders, her eyes widened at the sight of the name that was blinking on the brightly lit screen. Her heart rate increasing with each rapid breath she took, pleading to the Gods that this was all a dream.

Dr. Helen Parr (Incoming Call)

Don't answer. Don't answer.

She wasn't sure what it was. But maybe it was just a natural instinct that forced her hand to reach for her phone, pocketing the device in her hand as the vibration felt rough and ragged against her sweaty flesh that was pulsing. Eyeing the name down with such intensity, her thumb hovering over the green 'answer' button, knowing in her heart that it was the right thing to do. Her call history a catalog of numerous missed calls and her voicemail an album of urgent messages from her doctor. Wondering how she's been holding up or sternly implying to her of her missed check-ins that she has failed to inform her of.

Her doctor meant well. Really and truly, she did. Moana was one hundred percent positive of that. But with the how things were going now, the demands of her job, the relationship she and Maui were beginning to establish, as bad as it sounded, her doctor's appointments were right now the last thing on her list she needed to be focusing on. And it pained her to think that the only person who seemed to give a damn about her health was her doctor, Helen Parr. At this point, not even Moana herself could convince her own mind that her health and well-being was the first thing that needed to be at the top of her demands. The weight of her life was in the palm of her hand. What little life she knew she had left that is.

Chewing on her lip and closing her eyes, she's mere seconds from hitting the green button.

A sharp knock on her glass door drew her eyes from the little screen cradled in the palm of her hand. And much to her horror, there stands the last person she wanted to see. Gothel. A look of distress painted on her features (her cake faced, Botox injected features and all.) This can't be good. She tosses her phone aside without a second thought and sits up straighter in her chair, her fingers quickly combing through her mane of curls and she straightens herself out. Fingers lacing together as she presents her dear boss with her best (fake) smile.

"Come in!"

Gothel doesn't hesitate to enter as she literally throws open the door and barges her way into Moana's office. She had what looked like staples of paper hanging between her manicured fingers. And judging by the way her eyes were squinted when she was glaring, it immediately reminded Moana of a pit viper's slit-like pupils. She gulped nervously. A burning animosity was developing in Gothel's amber orbs, and she could tell she was likely the root cause of the problem for whatever it was that seemed to have her boss feeling perturbed. The woman stands above her desk, and Moana is trying her best to squirm under the impudent gaze that's looming over her.

"I-is there y-you need, Gothel?"

Her voice is wavering in pitch as she spoke. And Moana has to mentally curse herself for allowing her boss to sense any kind of weakness she always seemed to enjoy throwing at her employees. The woman says nothing, and Moana jumps slightly at the harsh impact that the sound of the papers slamming against the glass had made. She looks to Gothel again, wincing as she cups her hands around her injected hips.

This definitely can't be good.

"I-I…" She looks at the papers, then back up at Gothel again for confirmation. "What….what are these?"

Gothel huffs. "I'm certain you'd be familiar with these."

Moana blinks. Her wobbly fingers going to take the papers that were laid out in front of her. She flips through the stack, eyes scanning over the writing that seemingly looked strangely familiar. The phrasing. The wording choices. The paraphrasing, the topic….

What the…..is this some sort of joke?

"My article?" She looks up and meets Gothel's impudent stare. "My most recent article?"

Gothel's eyes narrow. Lips pursed. Gaze judgemental.

"T-the one that I….just submitted to you?" Moana blinks rapidly again. "T-the one y-you asked to write about….the mochas and lattes?"

Gothel smirks. "It's a good thing you're not dumb."

Ouch. That stung.

"I-I…..But I don't understand…." Her brows furrow. "Shouldn't this….have already been published?"

The cougar of a woman gave a wry laugh. The sound reaching Moana's ears with a feeling that left her stomach unsettled. Oh gods…..here we go….

"That's what you think!" She was smirking down at the tiny woman before her, eyebrow tilted in dominance. "You really think I was going to send that," she points her manicured nail at the papers in Moana's grasp, "to the publishing committee?"

"Um….well…..yes."

"Wrong."

"W-what? I-I….I don't understand."

Gothel gives a dramatic sigh. Rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Oh dearie, you are so naïve."

(What the hell was that supposed to mean?)

"I will not be publishing your article."

"I – what? B-but….but why?"

"Why?" Gothel gives her look of mock terror. "Oh why dearie, did you not read over your article before you submitted to me?"

"I did." Moana's creased. "I-I read it over a bunch of times and I-"

"Obviously you didn't read it over well enough." The glare is back on Gothel's features. Her eyes were narrowed. Rigid. Cold. Hard. "And I'm afraid to say, Ms. Waialiki, that I was very unimpressed with the work that you presented to me."

Insults upon another insult. It was obvious. No need to sugar coat it.

Moana gapes. Blinking. "But….Gothel I….I-"

"You know, Ms. Waialiki, I'm beginning to think that you no longer care for your job here."

"No! Gothel, t-that's not true!" She blurts. "I do care! Really and truly, I-"

"Judging by the work you provided me with," She nods towards the pathetic stacks of stapled papers. "I'm not convinced."

She could feel the sweat glistening on her brow. "Gothel," She says as though it's the last time she's seeing her parents again. "I really-"

"Ms. Waialiki, what I saw in your article was a disappointment."

"But I do care. Really, I do! Gothel, y-you have to believe me when I say that…..that I really and truly tried my hardest with this article, a-and-"

"It doesn't look like you did."

"But I did."

"I'm still not convinced, Ms. Waialiki." Her piercing glare suddenly makes Moana feel small. So very small. Just like how she did a month ago when she was sitting in her own office being lectured for her tardiness. "Your writing was sloppy. Your phrasing was atrocious and overall….." She pretends to ponder as she inspects her glittering nails. "…a disappointment."

Moana blinks. Her eyes glossy. "B-but I-"

"A complete disgrace to the Dream On community, and an embarrassment to me." The whites in her eyes turned a pure black, and as her iris glowered teal. Symbols, lines and dots formed in the iris, placed in a sort of manner. She huffs. "And here I was fool to believe that you were one of the best writers here. I guess I was wrong."

Her words stung. They stung a lot. And at this point, the temptation to allow the tears to drown her sorrows was evident in the pit of her stomach. But because she refuses to let the lion dominate the lamb, she sucks on her teeth and says, "Gothel," She stars slow, so slow. "I do care. And I am a part of this company."

Gothel blinks. Points her chin to the sky. "Prove it."

"What?"

"If you think you have what it takes to stay a part of this company, then you will prove it to me." She says. "You are to rewrite this entire article over again." Her tone is icy. Warning. "And you will make it stand out."

She wants to object. But she closes her mouth and instead settles on a curt nod. "O-okay." She says softly. "How long do I have?"

"You have until next week, Friday."

"W-wait, Friday?" She suddenly gapes. "B-but-"

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"I-I just….." She shakes her head. "I already have….two articles that are due next week!"

"And?"

"S-so that means…..I-I have to submit…three articles by then!"

She smirks. "Well that's not my problem now, is it?"

"But Gothel, I-"

"You are to hand in all your articles to me by Friday." She glowers. "No ifs, ands, or but! Otherwise, next week will be your last week working for this company. Do I make myself clear?"

She has no choice but to press her lips into a thin line. "Yes." The last words of her sentence forcing her to retract the previous words that wanted to fly out of her mouth.

"Good. Now get back to work." She turns on her heel to leave. And because she's Gothel, she holds the authority and power to do so. "And Ms. Waialiki."

Moana looks up. Brows creased. Lip quivering at the bottom and she has to force herself to bite it. And when her glossy gaze meets the harsh one staring back at her, part of her is questioning whether what more of her dignity this woman could take from her. With what little dignity she had left.

"This is your last chance. Don't disappoint me again."

And when Gothel disappears behind the glass door, Moana has to allow herself the opportunity for the warm sensation of the salty liquid to cascade down her face. Closing her sighs, hefting a loud sigh, she buries her face in the cups of her hands. Her breathing growing rapid. Wondering what on earth she had done in her life to deserve this.

Moana hadn't taken her eyes off the screen of her laptop ever since they had stepped in through the door. She's been sitting at the table hunched over like a pack mule for the past two hours. It was already five minutes to eight and her stomach had been rumbling at the fact that it still hadn't receive any shred of food or a drop of liquid since today's lunch break. The last time she ate had been at two o'clock. On the dot.

Maui comes in to the kitchen and finds her still sitting at the table. Brows furrowed in deep concentration, lips pursed and her fingers tapping and dancing animatedly against the keyboard as she's typing away. And Maui has to wonder how she hasn't become crippled yet. Especially with the amount of time she's spent typing for the past two hours since they've been here.

He can't help but furrow his brow, the scene in front of him troubling. Noting the little plate next to her laptop. Her grilled Chicken Cesar wrap that had probably gone cold had still remained untouched, tucked neatly away in the thin strip of white wrapping paper. Not a single bite, or any shred of evidence that the wrap had been tampered with. Nothing.

"Hey, Curly." He pulls out the chair that's next to her and takes a seat. "How was your day at work?"

But she was too much into the wording and phrasing she was producing onto the semi blank document on her laptop to notice that her roommate had broken the looming silence. Or perhaps, she did notice. But after all, this damn article wasn't going to finish itself.

"It was…." She mumbles, deciding to give in. "Fine."

"That's good." He nods, gaze fixed on her person. "Anything interesting happen today?"

She shakes her head. "Uh-uh."

"I see." Then his attention shifts briefly to the uneaten chicken wrap on her plate. "You haven't touched your wrap. Aren't you hungry?"

She hefts a sigh. "Not really, no."

"You sure?"

"Yea."

He studies her with a careful eye. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh-huh." She gives a curt nod. Though her gaze is tightly fixed on the bright screen in front of her. "Why?"

"Nothing, it's just….I noticed how quiet you were on the ride home."

She says nothing. Fingers tapping and typing. Eyes peeled to the paragraphs of wording that hopefully seems to "stand-out" as Gothel would phrase it.

Then his brow creases. "I didn't say anything to upset you this morning, did I?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"For Christ Sakes, Maui! I'm fine!"

She hadn't meant for the words to come out in the way that they did. Nor had it been her intention for the tone in her voice to raise two octaves than in its usual key. The way he flinched, his face a mask on confusion and shock, it was obvious even she had heard the error in her sentence. She clamps her mouth shut, chewing on her lower lip as a look of immediate remorse is quick to wash over her features.

"I…..I'm so sorry, Maui." She says softly. So soft. "I-I didn't….I didn't mean to startle you, I just-"

"It's okay."

"No, no, I-I shouldn't have yelled at like that, I-"

"It's okay, Curly." He tells her, his tone is gentle as his large hand goes to seek her small one. "Don't sweat it. It's not a big deal."

She bites her lip. His forgiveness isn't enough to wash away the guilt that's still swelling in the contents of her stomach. Her lower lip is trembling, though Moana has to fight with herself to keep an iron grip on all the extreme emotions that were begging to be released. "I'm sorry…" She says quietly.

"Hey…" He swallows and without a second thought, he finds his other hand reaching to push a strand of her locks behind her ear. "Stop apologizing. It's fine. Don't beat yourself up over it."

She's still as her gaze is locked with his. Completely mindful at the fact that his large hand still lingered near the surface of her cheek. And Maui wasn't sure if it was his inner instincts that had somehow kicked in, but when he finds his thick thumb tracing the tender skin of her cheek, he watches at the way how her body seemed to instinctively respond to the sudden affection it was receiving. His touch was so soft, and so gentle, Moana had found herself taking a liking to the fact of how attentive he was being. The way how his thumb continuously stroked her cheek, almost like he had been gently caressing all the stress away.

And she's mere seconds away from reaching her own hand up to meet the one still lingering amongst her cheek. And Maui fully becomes mindful at what he's doing. Pausing from his actions, he gives a sharp clear of his throat and he instantly rips his hand away from her face. Leaving Moana to eye him with a longing he couldn't seem to reach.

"Are um….are you okay?"

"Oh….um….no, not really." She shakes her head and sighs. "I'm just….I'm a bit stressed with my work, that's all."

"Yea? Well, why is that?"

She sighs again. "I got one of my articles back today." She rolls her eyes. "My stupid boss is making me rewrite this entire article from scratch!"

"Why is she making you do all that?"

"Because she's an evil witch! That's what she is!" Moana groans. "Ugh! I swear she just….ugh!" She clenches her fingers in her scalp. "She just loves to make my life a living hell!"

"Well, what topic do you have to write the article about?"

She chuckles dryly at the question. Her tone lacking humor. "Mochas and lattes." She smirks at him. "That's what my article has to be about."

He lifts a brow. "What?"

"Mochas and lattes."

"Uh….you're joking….right?"

"Nope." She grins, and there's a sarcastic edge in her words. "She's making me write an article that's requiring me to travel to different cafes in Downtown, Vancouver and write about which stupid cafe makes the most stupid divinely stupid mochas and stupid lattes!" Her hands throw up in frustration. "Mochas and lattes! Are you fricken kidding me?! Ugh!"

Maui blinks. Dumbfounded. "So…just so I'm following you," He tries to make sense of the situation, "you have to come up with an article about which café makes the most delicious mochas and lattes?"

"Yes!"

He scrunches up his nose in distaste. "What kind of boss makes her employees write about….ridiculously overpriced coffee?"

"Trust me! I wish I had the answer to that!" Another groan as she slides further down into her seat. "Ugh! This article will be the death of me…."

He sends her an apologetic gaze. "Hey, don't be so quick to give up." He says lightly. "I know this whole thing is absolutely ridiculous. But, I think you can do it."

She furrows her brow. "You do?"

"Of course!" He chuckles. "I wouldn't be saying that if I didn't think anything of it." He smiles. "You can do this, Curly. I know you can."

She hefts a sigh. "I'm not so sure anymore…."

His mouth opened and closed a few times. Unsure of what solution he could come up with. But if he was being completely honest with himself, he couldn't help but feel incredibly useless. Of course him just sitting here staring at her with an apologetic gaze was definitely not going to help settle the situation in which she was battling. He wanted to help. He really did. He just didn't know how. And generally speaking, this wasn't exactly his particular area of expertise to begin with. Especially considering the fact that the majority of his previous roommates with whom he's lived with in the past were usually those who were never interested in making small talk.

Now that he was living with Moana, things were different. Much different. She definitely wasn't like any of the roommates he's previously lived with. Just the thought of how he and she were beginning to develop some sort of relationship, it was indeed a drastic change compared to what he's been used to experiencing throughout most of his life.

And to be honest, the thought kind of scared him.

It scared him a lot actually.

But yet somehow, the change seemed like it was….dare he say it….enjoyable.

So enjoyable.

But was that because of the fact that he was beginning to actually….feel something for her? There was no denying the fact that….maybe he was.

Her heavy sigh breaks through his thoughts. "I'm never gonna get this thing finished."

He stares at her. "When does it have to be finished?"

"By Friday next week." Another sigh. "Along with my two other articles."

"You have to do two other articles?"

"Yea."

"So that means…..you have to write…." He tries to make sense of everything. "….three articles…."

"Mhm."

He blinks. "All three articles have to be finished by Friday?"

"Yup."

"Ouch."

"Tell me about it."

And again, he still remained unsure of exactly what his next move was supposed to entail. He watches as she drags a hand down her face and hefts a loud sigh into the meat of her palm. His mouth opening, and closing once again. Feeling more and more like the world's biggest and useless fool that ever walked the planet. Well then again, he was useless. Heck, he was even useless to his own family and look how that ended up.

"I can help." He says without a second thought. "If you want….that is."

His words catch her off guard. And she looks at him through the cracks of her fingers. Head tilting to the side to study his features.

"You…." She blinks. "What?"

"I'll help you." He offers. His tone serious. "I wouldn't mind."

She stares at him, eyes raking over his profile. Considering the words that had just tumbled out of his mouth. His offer tempting. It was a sweet gesture. And she was mere seconds from allowing the word 'Yes!' to fall from her lips. She blinks, then offers him a genuine smile.

"Maui, that….that's sweet of you, but…."

"But….?"

And the look smile on her face is almost apologetic. "I wish I could take you up on that, and believe me, I would, but-"

"So why don't you?"

"….Why don't I what?"

"Let me help you?"

She blinks. "Well, I mean….it's not like you can write my work for me."

"Why not?"

She furrows her brow. "Why not…what?"

He shrugs. "Why don't you let me write the article for you?"

"Maui," She sighs and stifles back a small laugh. "I can't just let you….write my article for me." She smiles. "I couldn't do that to you."

"I don't mind helping you out though, Moana."

"But….Maui, I can't let you do my work for me."

"Well why not?"

"Because that would be considered cheating." She says in calm tone. "I can't give my boss something that's not mine."

He shrugs. "She doesn't have to know."

For some reason, her words didn't seem to register with him. She was right. He knew that. But after all, Moana only knew that he meant well. His intention wasn't to get her in any sort of trouble with her boss. His gesture wasn't meant to ignite any sort of harm whatsoever. He was only trying to help. And for some reason maybe to Maui, this was his way of wanting to offer a helping hand. After all, the offer did seem tempting.

"Maui, I can't-"

"How much work have you done so far?"

"Oh, um…." She moves her finger on the cursor and scrolls downwards. She sighs. "Only two pages."

"And how long does it have to be?"

"Six to seven pages."

He nods. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"You don't know the half of it." She mutters.

"Well, how about I look it over for you instead?" He offers.

"What?"

"Your work." He nods towards her laptop. "Why don't you let me see what you have so far and I can try to edit it for you?"

"Oh….." The words drawls from her mouth. And she suddenly feels the insecurities swirling about in the contents of her stomach. Or maybe it was just the protest of her empty digestive system crying out to her. "Um….well….I-"

"I mean," He interrupts, realizing that he may have sounded a bit too pushy. "that is, if you feel comfortable with me doing that…you don't have to if you don't want to."

She considers his words. Considers his generosity. Though she's hesitant as her fingers hover protectively over her keyboard. "Um…..o-okay…."

She slides her laptop closer towards him. Feeling what little confidence she had left begin to gradually diminish once she caught side of her large, thick fingers moving the cursor around the screen, his brows furrowed in concentration as his eyes skimmed slowly over the only bit of work she had produced. He seemed to be so engrossed in the content of her writing that the silence that was looming amongst them only left an uncomfortable feeling that was beginning to taunt her.

Oh my god! What I was thinking?! He probably thinks my writing sucks!

Moana wasn't sure what it was that could be going through his head. And if she was being honest with herself, the thought was eating her up on the inside. She wasn't sure whether or not he would ridicule her like Gothel had done. Tell her if her writing really did suck. Or tell her that she was indeed wasting her time waiting for a dream like this to ever come true. She didn't know. And judging by the forced look of concentration that was painted on his features, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as his gaze studied every single wording and phrasing, and the way how the dent in his brow seemed to deepen as he scrolls further down the page, it was impossible for her to not think the worst of the worst.

See! Gothel was right! Even he thinks you're shitty writer!

"Huh."

His voice rips through her thoughts as she abruptly looks toward him. Her body slightly cowering away, face a portrait of fear. Though she was mentally preparing herself for the first blow of criticism that was soon to follow.

"Yea…..I know." She bites her lip and clamps her eyes shut. "My wording is terrible." She inhales a sharp breath. "And my paraphrasing is….disgusting. It's…..not very good. I'm sorry…."

He snorts. "Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?"

She lifts one eye open to peer at him. "W-what?"

"I've never heard of a writer having to apologize for how amazing her work is."

Her other eye lifts open. And she blinks. "…Amazing?"

"Well, yea." He says matter-of-factly as he turns to look at her. "You've got some great skills there, Curly."

"I do?"

"Of course!" He chuckles and he keeps his gaze trained on her profile. "Your writing is fantastic!"

"Y-you…..you really think so?"

"Absolutely! This!" He points at her screen. "This is one of the best writings I've read in such a long time." Then he smiles. "I mean, everything about it is just so….vivid. It's beautiful."

Moana at this point, isn't able to prevent the heat from rising to her cheeks. Her stomach fluttered and participating in yet another match of backflips and jumping jacks.

"You really seem to captivate people with your writing." He says. "It's amazing." He goes to skim over the wording once more. Then he furrows his brow. "Though, if I'm being honest, it seems like you're holding back a bit."

(I knew it was too good to be true)

The smile from Moana's face instantly fell. "Oh…really?"

He presses his lips together, and then nods slightly. "A little bit, yea."

He sees the look of hurt and defeat that's painted on her features. Bowing her head down as she shields her face behind the curtain of her locks. Twiddling her thumbs in the meantime. Of course. It was too damn good to be true. It always was.

"What I meant by that," She looks up, hopeful. "Is because, I think it's a shame."

She frowns at those words. "What is?"

"Well, the topic that you're having to work with is…..just so mediocre." He scrunches up his nose. "I mean, mochas and lattes? I don't feel that it's challenging you to the best of your ability."

"….What are you saying exactly?"

He gives her a reassuring smile. "I'm saying that it's too bad that you're having to waste your talent on having to write about complete…..bullshit that means absolutely nothing."

She opens her mouth, then closes it. "You….you really think so?" Her tone soft. "Y-you're not….just saying that, are you?"

"Trust me." The smile is still there. "I know a good writer when I see one."

There was something in his words that was comforting. So very comforting, each word moving past his lips concealed her insides. So warm and so sincere. And the look behind those gorgeous brown eyes of his that stared into hers had lined up perfectly with those last words that were said. Genuine. Reassuring. Encouraging. Everything all wrapped up on in one package. And Moana was able to find that smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

His words were exactly what she had needed to hear after a hard day of being trapped in that prison she called 'work'. At this point, Dream On might as well be one.

"Wow." She sighs, laughing lightly. "Maui, I….I don't know what to say."

He chuckles. "You don't have to say anything." Another smile. "I meant what I said."

"Yea?"

"Uh-huh. Every word."

She smiles. "That's…actually the sweetest thing you've….ever said to me."

"Well, it's the truth."

She bites her lip. And she turns her head to the side to avert her gaze from his that lingered amongst her person, but the sudden rosiness of her cheeks gave her away. And Moana wasn't sure just how far her cheeks had been stretching.

"Thank you, Maui."

He smiles. "For what?"

"For believing in me." It's cheesy, she knew that. But it had to be said. "Lately, I've just been….I've just been doubting my ability to continue on with writing." She swallows. "And, honestly, I've never….usually been confident with my writing skills."

And there was something about her words that allowed the dent in his brows to deepen. Feeling troubled at hearing the words being confessed through her lips. And just as always, he had to hold back the urge of wanting to envelope her tiny body in his arms and just hold her against his chest while he just listened to her worries and whispered words of encouragement in her ears.

What he would give to just have her in his arms…..

"I….always felt insecure with my writing." She explains quietly. "I honestly never thought I had what it takes to become a writer."

"You shouldn't think that way." He tells her. "Not about your writing, or about yourself."

She sighs. "I know." She gives a small shrug of her shoulders. "But….when you're in a pool full of billions of other writers who have the same dream as you, it….it gets hard." She bites her lip. "Especially….when there are other people that are better than you."

Now it's his turn to sigh. "There's always going to be competition out there, Curly." He explains, and his instincts kick in yet again as he finds his hand going to envelop hers in his grasp. And he keeps it there. Fingers wrapping around her tiny palm. "The world's a competitive place."

"I'll say."

He stares at her. "I know things can get very tough." He says. "And trust me, they do. But, at the end of the day," his other hand instinctively finds her features once again. This time, he pinches her chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting her face to look at him, "you just gotta believe in yourself."

She says nothing. Looking at him.

"You just gotta believe it in your heart that you do have what it takes to achieve what it is that you….really want in life."

(He's right)

"And, I like I said before, I meant what I said earlier." He nods. "About your writing being….amazing."

(Even when he talks, it's like melting into sweet honey...)

She swallows. "…You really think…it's amazing?"

He nods, smiling. "Of course." And his hand goes to brush the stray of hairs from her face. Allowing his fingers full access to rest against the supple skin of her cheek. "….Absolutely…." He stares at her with so much intensity. "….beautiful."

And just as instantly, the feeling was back. That same feeling they had both felt the minute their hands had made contact back at Lalotai. That same tingly feeling that just felt….right. So warm, so natural, so genuine, it was as if Moana had experienced fireworks igniting in her system. And while their gazes were locked on each other's, it was like they were looking into one another's souls. He knew her fears. She knew his weakness. He was everything she could have asked him to be.

She allows her eyes to flutter at the feel of his warm fingers tracing the flesh on her cheek. His warmth from his touch seeping into her being, comforting her with just the stroke of his hands fingers alone. And for what felt like eternity, Moana had almost melted into him like ice-cream on a warm porcelain bowl. And just like this morning, Moana was once again lost in the depths of breathless paradise in his calming eyes. No doubt that the attraction between them was growing. Throbbing against their insides. Begging to be released right this second.

Her hand goes up to meet his. Her fingers small against his as they wrap around his large ones. And her hand stays there. Not daring to move any time soon. Maui almost has to hold back the sigh that's hitched in his throat the minute her skin comes in contact with his. Swallowing as his gaze is fixed tightly on hers. Neither of their gazes wanting to disperse from one another any time soon.

Her breathing goes heavy, and gulps down another blob of saliva down his throat. And before he knew it, Maui finds himself leaning forward. Moving his head closer to Moana's. She sits, fingers clutched around his that's still cupped around her cheek.

(It's happening….it's happening…..)

He leans in, his forehead resting against hers. They close their eyes. Both their breathing mixing with one another. And he's close, so close, his lips almost barely brushing against hers, and….

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The cacophony of the chiming from his phone jolts them. Both of them ripping apart from one another as Maui lets out a loud huff underneath his breath. Damn piece of shit phone! He goes to grab the phone from the table, his attention shifted to focus on the bright screen in front of him. Which left Moana feeling embarrassed, and somewhat disappointed.

He groans. "Stupid work…." He mutters.

Moana wrinkles her nose. "Is it important?"

"Ah, yea…..sorta." He drags a hand down his face and rises from the table. "I gotta take this."

"Oh….okay."

He pauses from taking another step further. Cursing under his breath. Muttering profanities of words that thankfully, Moana couldn't seem to make out. He wonders where things would've gone had he left that stupid cell-phone of his upstairs…..

"Sorry about that."

She blinks. Then shakes her head. "No, no. It's fine." She nods as she closes the screen to her laptop shut and rises from the table. "I um….I'm gonna go take a shower anyways so…."

He gives a curt nod. Clearing his throat as he tried to shake away the rather provocative thoughts that ran through his mind after hearing the word 'shower'.

Get your mind of out the gutter, dude!

"Alright." He looks at her. "I'll um….I guess….we can talk later then?"

She smiles. "Of course!"

"Great." He looks down at the plate that still lingers and picks it up. "And," He hands her in the plate of now cold uneaten chicken wrap. "Please eat something before you go to bed."

She chuckles. "Okay, dad." Though she's blushing. "I will."

Now it's his turn to chuckle. "Good."

And when he turns to head out of the kitchen, Moana finds herself calling after him without a second thought. He pauses in the doorway, turning to face her.

"What is it?"

She blinks. "Thank you." She smiles. "Thank you for the talk and….and for everything."

The smile on his lips reaches all the way up to his face. "You're welcome."

And when he disappears out of the kitchen, Moana couldn't remember the last time she had felt the butterflies in her stomach fluttering about in her system. And another thing she was certain of.

As much as she hated it to admit it, Rapunzel had been right all along.

(Oh boy….)

So what did you guys think? Love it? Hate it? So so? Your input means the world to me! R&R!

As always, thank you those who have continued to follow and support me on my journey with this story! To all my reviewers, you guys are simply amazing and I'm so grateful and blessed to have your support!

Until next chapter guys! More to come very soon! Mwah!*