This chapter kind of makes my heart tingle, please enjoy haha! Remember to review, yeah? ;)

CHAPTER 7

Jemima silently cursed herself for having never lifted a weight in her life as she carried the heavy plastic bags up the narrow staircase of her apartment building. She also silently cursed the fact she lived on the top floor of a building without a lift, which meant that she had to lug half a dozen bags filled with various foods and drinks up to her flat. Her arms ached and her heartbeat was faster than she thought humanly possible. She breathed a sigh of relief as she reached the top of the last flight of stairs, dumping the bags against the wall and bending over, her bum in the air and her head between her knees to catch her breath.

"You okay there?"

Jemima snapped up, her head smacking into the wall behind her, as she stared at the man in front of her? "Fuck." Was all she could muster, as she rubbed her now throbbing head. At least there would be no visible bruising to match her eye.

"Why is it you're always getting into one scrape or another?" Munkustrap smiled down at her, his eyes lively with amusement. "Do you want me to help you with those?" He pointed to the multitude of bags at her feet. She wanted to say no. She wanted to hide away in her flat and forget about this incident altogether, but there was no way she'd be able to carry all the weight on her own with her new injury.

"Yes please. I swear I'm never usually this clumsy, I'm often prided on my ability to balance and stay upright." She gave him a sideways glance as they walked to her front door, both with bags in their hands. Luckily, the tall brunette was smiling and Jemima felt relieved that he didn't think she was a complete idiot. "You just surprised me, that's all. You should know better than to creep up on someone like that." They set the bags down on the kitchen counter once they were inside the flat and she grinned mischievously at him.

"Hey, hey, you can't blame this on me! I didn't force your head against the wall!" He pointed at her in an accusing manner, smiling broadly back. "What are these anyway?" He started to look through the bags.

"Someone's nosey." She winked as she started unloading them. He looked up and chuckled when he realised she was joking. "They're supplies for tonight. The party, remember?"

"Ah yes, Tugger has already locked himself in the bathroom to get his hair ready for tonight, he has more hair care products than most women, I'm sure."

Jemima giggled an actual girly giggle that would usually come out of Victoria's mouth when she flirted with Plato. Why was she getting so hung up over this guy? Jemima was usually the cool and confident one. Rarely did she find herself giggling at something. She shuddered. What was it about him that made her want to spend all of her time with him? Stop Jemima, she thought, ask him to go.

"Want to help set up?" She asked, immediately regretting it. What was that? Idiot, idiot, idiot. She mentally scolded herself. "I mean, that's if you don't have anything to do. Like, you don't have to..." She trailed off.

Luckily though, he smiled and agreed graciously. "I'd love to."

The next hour and a half was spent moving furniture to the edges of the room, setting up a drinks table, and moving all of their more valuable items to under Jemima's bed so nothing would get broken. She felt very exposed when he entered her room. It was as if he was seeing another side of her, a deeper side that she wasn't ready for him to see. Her room wasn't exactly decorated crazily or anything, but she had everything she loved in there. Her double four poster bed, her cream fluffy rug, her shelves full of her favourite books and DVD's. He stopped to look at a photo that stood on her dressing table.

"This is nice." He spoke. Jemima spied his face in the mirror which sat on top of the table, he was smiling as he picked the frame up in his hands. It was a small collage of photo's that Victoria had made her for her birthday. There were only a few pictures in it, but she had definitely chosen the best ones. There were some of the day they moved into the flat, both holding boxes and pulling funny faces at the camera, one from a night out where they were both actually dressed nicely for once, some with the boys downstairs on their famous movie nights, all surrounded by popcorn. The biggest photo in the middle was of Victoria, Jemima and Cettie all hugging and smiling in the sun in some park they visited one time. All great memories. Jemima smiled fondly as she joined Munkustrap at the table.

"Victoria made it for me. She's the best."

"You guys are close then?" He looked down at her, the frame still in his hands.

"She's like my sister. Cettie too. Well, I assume that's what having a sister is like, I never actually had a real one, but they're good substitutes." She looked up to join his gaze.

"It seems like she thinks highly of you." He pointed to the cheesy words that were scrawled in sharpie on the frame. They read: 'Jemmi, happy birthday! You are the bestest friend a girl could ask for. Thank you for everything. Love, Vic x'.

Jemima waved her hand nonchalantly. "She's a big softie, what do you expect?" But it was true. Sometimes her wacky roommates held her on this sort of pedestal when it came to dealing with their problems, mostly because she was the only one who would actually sit down and listen to them. "They just like to come to me with their problems sometimes. I suppose I'm rather level headed." She walked to the window to look out at the sky. It was still bright out, despite it being 7pm and she could see the sun poking out from behind the tall buildings.

"You're a good friend." Munk said, setting the photo frame down in its original place. She wasn't sure whether he meant it as a question or a statement, but she had little time to care about it as she felt him walk up behind her. She was still stood facing the window. She felt his breath on the back of her neck and she tightened her grip on the windowsill.

"Well, I don't know about that." Her heart felt like it would explode right out of her chest at any second. She was sure he could hear her heavy breathing but he didn't move an inch. He just stood there, right behind her, almost touching. Jemima wasn't sure how long they stood there, for her it felt like minutes.

"I think you're a great." He breathed into her ear. Not the most romantic of statements but it was still enough to make Jemima's knees weak. Get it together, girl, she thought.

"You barely know me." She turned around, tilting her head upwards to look at him, defiantly.

"I want to." And then his hand was moving to touch hers, still gripping onto the windowsill. Jemima was confused. was the guy who was completely awkward around her just a few days ago, but now he was a few inches away from her, looking as if he might kiss her any second. She wanted him to. She wanted him to kiss her even though she would usually find this sort of affection gross and lame. His fingers brushed her own and she had no idea what to say next. She always had something to say. Whether it was the right time to speak or not, she would always be able to add something to the conversation, and yet she was silenced by a single touch of his hand.

That was when she heard the front door open. "Wow, Jem! This looks great!" Munkustrap leaped backwards away from her and she wanted to physically slap Cettie who was now obviously looking through the alcohol selection, the bottles clinking loudly. Jemima looked at Munkustrap who eyes were wide with guilt, as if he was a child and had just been caught stealing the last biscuit from the tin.

"Sorry." Was all he said as he stood awkwardly against the wall opposite her.

"Don't be." She replied, trying as hard as she could to show that she meant it. That she liked it and that she liked him and wasn't mad. She smiled. And he smiled. He smiled an actual smile, toothy and beautiful. He seemed as if he was actually at ease around her for the first time. She had seen glimpses of the relaxed Munkustrap a few times when they were joking around, but this was different. Jemima couldn't contain her grin. Soon they were both laughing, as if they both shared a joke that no one else knew about.

"I'll see you at the party still, wont I?" He asked in between gasps of laughter.

"You definitely will." Jemima answered. He would see her even if he hadn't wanted to, she thought to herself just after he left, smiling as she collapsed into the sofa. Flirting really took it out of her. She kept replaying his words in her head as she made the finishing touches to the flat with Cettie. The blonde chattering non-stop about work that day but Jemima wasn't listening. She was too busy thinking about the tall, dark man three doors down.