Hello! Tremendously short update here, I meant it when I said I had a bum-load of work to do. But I got a couple of reviews urging me to update, and I didn't want you guys to think I'd given up the story and abandoned you. Like I would do a thing like that!

Anyway, apologies for the shortness, I wish I could spend more time on it. Updates will be far more regular once the next few weeks are over and I'm slightly less of an over-worked, sleep-deprived wreck. Hope it's enough to keep you guys interested?

Have a nice day

'What the fuck is this?'

Naomi jumped as two sheets of paper were flat-palmed heavily onto the table in front of her. Her coffee joggled and spilled in the excitement.

Naomi looked up at Emily's accusatory face.

'What's what?' Naomi asked calmly, using a coaster to flick the spilt coffee off the table. It cascaded over the lip of the small metal table and pattered softly onto the floor into a slippery puddle.

'This!' Emily said, pointing at the paper, 'This 'article'!'

Naomi snorted softly, 'Em, I'm sorry, it's impossible to look angry doing finger quotes.'

Emily frowned, 'Well, I am angry. You can't write this kind of stuff!'

Naomi rolled her eyes, 'Why not? Freedom of speech Em. Don't be such a fascist.'

'Naomi, shut the fuck up for a second. This,' Emily gestured dramatically to the limp pieces of paper that were rapidly soaking up Naomi's coffee, 'Is not on. It's just not on. It's not fucking fair.'

'You didn't like it?' Naomi asked, her gaze dropping sadly.

'It's fucking beautiful. And I hate that you wrote it.'

Naomi opened her mouth to retaliate, but realised she had no response to that statement. She managed to mumble an anticlimactic 'Um ... thanks?'

The surge of rage that Emily entered the café next to library with seemed to have quieted, leaving her diatribe in an awkward state of incompletion. Naomi picked up the pieces of paper from the wet table and scanned them briefly, reminding herself of some of the things she'd written in the depths of that strange night.

'Any other comments?' she asked Emily, not looking up from the paper. 'Queries, advice, criticisms?' She looked at Emily from over the top of the paper. If she had glasses, she'd be peering over their rims right now.

'Yeah,' said Emily, thankful Naomi had broken the silence, 'Use less commas. And for fucks sake use shorter sentences. I forget what you're talking about halfway through.'

Naomi raised an eyebrow. 'I'll bear that in mind.'

Without invitation, Emily pulled up an adjacent chair and sat down. Naomi fought to withhold a satisfied smile. Her left hand moved from the edge of the page to fall down by her side, stealthily sneaking its way under the table and across to Emily's lap, where it rested lightly on her thigh.

Emily looked down at Naomi's hand, committing the sight to memory, and for a few brief seconds letting herself enjoy how important it made her feel. She took a deep breath, 'I can't Naomi.'

She shifted her knee, and Naomi's hand slid from her lap.

Naomi said nothing. Even when she saw Emily look up at her in her peripheral vision, she just continued re-reading her article. In actual fact she wasn't reading at all, merely focusing a word in the middle of the page so that Emily wouldn't look into her eyes in that soul-searching way that she could and see how much those three words crushed every fibre of her being.

'It's too fucked up,' Emily continued, unfazed by Naomi's lack of reaction. 'I can't do this. That's what I came here to tell you.'

Naomi merely chewed her bottom lip, still not looking at Emily.

'Do you have anything to say?' Emily asked, her words escaping her mouth as part of a fatigued sigh.

'You've read what I had to say,' Naomi said nonchalantly. 'All commas and incoherent sentences.'

Emily rolled her eyes. Naomi never did take criticism well. She stood up, the metal legs of the chair scraping unpleasantly on the hard floor. 'Bye Naomi,' she said sadly.

'See ya,' said Naomi absently, staring at the page.

It was all Emily could do to restrain herself from snatching the paper from Naomi and smacking her round the head. The girl was so infuriating: so intense and passionate when it suited her, so cold and distant when it really mattered.

'Fine then,' Emily turned to leave.

She paused.

She deliberated.

She glanced back at Naomi, who quickly looked back down at her article, hoping she hadn't been caught watching. Emily leaned down and slowly pushed the paper down from Naomi's face. Softly lifting her chin with a timid finger, she kissed her lightly on the lips. Naomi's eyes fluttered closed, and her hands clenched the paper they were holding. 'I meant it when I said it was beautiful,' Emily said, drawing back and touching Naomi's cheek gently.

And then she turned and left.

'Hey!' Naomi called after her, suddenly unable to shift her legs into gear enough to get up out of her chair, 'That's not fair!'

A café worker in a green apron carrying a tray of cups promptly slipped over next to Naomi's table in her spilt coffee, clattering to the floor in a jumble of limbs and crockery. Naomi looked down at him, 'Oo sorry,' she said, ' ... spillage.'

The distraction provided Emily with the diversion she needed to escape completely from view, leaving Naomi alone and confused, clutching her sheets of poorly-timed words.