A/N: Back again! And hopefully with a better fic this time around haha. But regardless of my qualms with the last chapter, I'm glad some of you enjoyed it! To Forever Day, I feel so special that you procrastinated using my fic - the goal of all writers, truly! And thank you, their friendship means a lot to me but I have to extrapolate it from what we're given in the show, which is a nice challenge too. To EmmaFan, "Life doesn't work like that" was supposed to be realistic - I'm actually surprised I wrote the follow-up chapter to be so hopeful. Honestly the rest of that particular story probably doesn't turn out so well. But I'm really glad that you liked it! To Stars May Fall, you're so nice to contradict me like that, so thank you. They both just want each other to be happy so much but they also want that for themselves, so it's interesting to play those two sides. And to Moonprincess92, thank you so much, the hiatus will be weighing on me too so hopefully we'll both get something out of these fics until it returns in May.

As I've already said, my reviewer Juliet convinced me to continue "So quiet, but so loud" and it surprisingly turned into something I really really liked. It was one of those wonderful ones that kind of got away from me and turned into this mammoth of a fic. But I hope it is still of the good variety, haha, so enjoy! Oh and I used a bit of a new technique in this so I hope that doesn't confuse anyone too much!

"(2) So quiet, but so loud" continued

"He still doesn't like the silence of a life without Emma, but he has a new silence to appreciate. The perfect sound of absolutely nothing when his lips meet Emma's and everything else fades away."

It would be a lie to say that things automatically fell into place just because both of them knew how the other one felt. It would be expected but that doesn't mean it's actually what happened.

In actuality, Alex's bliss was short-lived from the day it started. Emma had fallen asleep on his shoulder without realizing it and when he moved to clean up his rather dishevelled lounge and put the remaining food and drink away, she'd woken up. And let it be known that his friend did not understand the concept of being groggy after a nap, preferring to shoot up off the couch like she'd been struck by lightning.

"Hello?" Alex offered, not sure what to make of this turn of events. Emma turned to him with wide eyes but seemed to will herself to relax after a few seconds.

"How long was I asleep for?" she demanded, once her breathing was back to normal. She fidgeted by his coffee table and pushed her hair back behind her ears. Alex chose to take a step towards his kitchen, wondering if maybe the distance would put her more at ease, though simultaneously worried about what such results would mean.

"Half an hour, maybe," he guessed, readjusting the empty bottles and the glass in his hands. "Are you okay?" he then questioned when she didn't move from the spot she was planted in despite looking very much like she would like to be anywhere but there.

Emma turned to look at him as though surprised by his question and just gave him a nod, affirmatively. Alex nodded back, less certain, waiting for her to speak and then opting for continuing his movement towards the kitchen when she chose not to. He recycled what he could and placed Emma's empty glass on the counter before returning to the lounge.

"I think that I should go," she said, slowly and without looking at him as he walked the longer distance around the couch. Emma didn't wait for his response as she placed her phone into her handbag that she'd left somewhere by his front door. He had followed her and was now in the doorway leading to his entrance hall, leaning against the doorframe and watching her check to see if she'd forgotten anything, though they both knew she'd hadn't brought much else.

When she seemed satisfied with her belongings, she turned to face him in order to give him a rather less than reassuring half smile. "Well, I guess I'll see you later," she winced slightly when she realized how those words came out.

"We'll get coffee, or something," she added, giving him a slightly more convincing smile this time. Then she squeezed his forearm gently and slipped out his front door so fast Alex had to wonder if she was ever there at all. He finds himself standing there just looking at the now empty hallway. After a few minutes of being stunned, he moved forward to lock the door and realized that he'd yet to hear Emma's car start, or subsequently leave. For lack of anything better to do, Alex leaned his forehead against the cold wood of his front door and waited to hear the quiet roar of her car's engine. He imagined her doing the same thing against the steering wheel of her car, perhaps waiting for him to turn off the lights, thus signaling that he'd gone to bed. In the end, he stuck it out longer, and the gentle hum of the car engine forced his head from its position against the white-washed wood. In response, he locked his door and turned off the hallway light, wondering how they'd gotten into such strange forms of communication.

And as he walked back through his lounge, up the stairs to his room in preparation for bed, he was struck with the overwhelming worry that the silence he had just come to enjoy was beginning to feel like anything but.

(…)

Emma texted him the next morning and he feared opening it to see words summarizing the past night's events as a mistake or a lapse in judgement, he wasn't entirely certain which was worse. He just didn't want to go through this uncertainty again; he thought that had been cleared up well enough when he had said all that he thought was needed of him.

By the time he had a morning coffee and grabbed a muffin from the basket, he had resolved himself to the assertion that he would not give up without a fight. With this in mind, he unlocked his phone to read whatever cover story his friend had concocted.

Instead, however, he found:

(9:14) I forgot, you don't like to drink coffee at coffee shops. To quote your brother, you find them "too overpriced".

Alex laughed, outwardly and loudly. It wasn't exactly a love letter but it wasn't a rejection either. He could breathe easier knowing that her first instinct after an awkward situation with him was to tease him further. The very idea was so Emma he wasn't certain why he didn't see it coming.

Ordinarily, he would rib her back, leaving them both to feel something akin to normalcy. But he didn't want that; he didn't embarrass himself numerous times the previous night to simply return to what they had already been. So, rather than sticking with what he knew, Alex tried something on her that he'd never done before, or more accurately, never done intentionally. He flirted.

(10:27) I would drink it with you.

Which he then erased, scolded himself for, and rewrote.

(10:28) I could be convinced to buy one when with the right company.

Which was equally terrible but he sent the response anyway. Her reply was almost instantaneous.

(10:29) You have completely and totally opened the door to absolutely over-the-top coffee combinations, I hope you realize.

Followed by:

(10:29) (And thank you for joining the rest of us in the world of actual drinkable coffee)

He couldn't resist typing back:

(10:31) You do make all of this sound so tempting.

Then, he imagined her laughing before shooting back with:

(10:32) And here I thought you were coming for the company?

And Alex decided that he very much enjoys flirting with Emma, even at ten am. Speaking of which,

(10:34) When exactly am I being forced to accept my fate into the world of franchised coffee?

But no reply came. Not then, or Sunday, even when he pestered her by suggesting he might just get one on his own. But to no avail. It was like she had gone radio silent, which was virtually unheard of when it came to Emma. However, he chose not to stress about it, given that he would see her the following day at work.

(…)

He arrived early, as he was wont to do, and skipped his usual route to his own office when he heard sounds coming from Emma's. Taking her perpetually open door as incentive, he strolled into her office taking in the sight of…well first her, in a knee-length red dress that somehow made her appear to be glowing with her hair in a high ponytail that would prove to be a distraction to him for the rest of the day, no doubt. But otherwise, he noticed the way she was organizing her office, which was very off-putting given who she was.

"Alex," she said, straightening and looking him over with a smile. He offered her a small wave before turning back to the, for lack of a better word, explosion of paper which seemed to have taken over her office.

"I'm sorry I never got a chance to text you back," she continued, lifting her phone off her dishevelled desk space. "I got wrapped up in all this," using her hand to gesture at the mess.

He raised an eyebrow, "I didn't know we had a new client?"

She turned back to organizing her paperwork before responding. "We don't. This is more like a more pre-emptive decision. Trying to make sure I'm prepared for," she looked up to meet his eyes briefly before becoming seemingly distracted by her organization "whatever surprises are in store."

Alex nodded, even though he was still mostly confused and she wasn't even looking at him to see him nod.

"Emma, you know you only organize when you're stressed," he tried, though he didn't quite want to go further down that path as he had a few guesses as to what was stressing her out.

She scoffed, "I'm not stressed. I'm pre-emptively planning, the textbook antonym to stress." As though to emphasize the point, she leaned back against her desk with a paper in hand that she was currently perusing. From the looks of it, it was a list of potential locations for the Weston rehearsal dinner – an event that had already been set. Taking this as a cue, Alex moved further into her office and around her bench until he found himself leaning against her desk beside her, picking up a bundle of papers.

"May I ask what you're doing, Mr. Knightley?" she questioned when she had looked up long enough from her list to notice him still being there.

"I'm helping you pre-emptively plan for an event you've already planned," he replied, being sure to make his sarcasm stick while pouring over sheets of paper he didn't quite understand. Put multiple-digit math problems in front of him, and he could solve them with barely a batted eye. But give him a stack worth of paper regarding the perfect shade of lilac and how it best compliments soft mocha and his brain may actually turn to mush. Still, he was confused as to what was going on between them so if that meant playing into her charade until she wanted to explain what was happening, then he would look at as many peonies as was humanly possible.

Surprisingly, Emma didn't complain. At the silence, Alex looked up to observe his business partner and found her staring at him with an unreadable expression. He furrowed his brow but when their eyes met a sort of lazy smile spread across Emma's lips.

"Glad to see you taking an interest in the real work around here," and if her shining eyes were any indication, she was wisely making a joke on his behalf. He pretended to look offended before pointing at the sheet in her hands.

"You say as you hold a list of the 'most romantic songs of the 90s and 2000s'," he leaned into her further than he had intended but she didn't seem to mind so he didn't pull back. Instead, she raised her head back to meet his eyes before responding, extremely close to his face.

"At Ryan's request! Trust me, I do not want to revisit that particular era of music, especially at a wedding…" she shook her head and shifted slightly so that her hand was next to his as they continued to lean against her desk.

"Oh, no? I think you and I remember boy-band crazy Emma Woodhouse very differently," he said smugly, to which she bit her lip coyly and it took him almost all of his mental capacity to focus on anything but that.

"I was never boy-band crazy," she countered, shifting again so that there was no conceivable space left between them. "To be boy-band crazy would suggest that I was boy-crazy, which you and I both know I never was."

Alex cocked his head to the side in disagreement, "Well…."

Emma laughed, "Shut up," she said while shoving his shoulder with her own. He laughed with her and pretended not to notice how her movement brought her hand over to partially grip his. It was harder to ignore it when she looked back up at him like she had every intention of kissing him, especially because there was absolutely nothing he would have done to stop her.

Though, because the universe is all too happy to ruin perfect moments (especially for him), she never got the chance to do more than lean over about a quarter inch before Harriet found herself inside Emma's office. Thankfully, the general mayhem of the working space was more distracting than whatever her boss and boring Mr. Knightley were doing because Harriet didn't even notice Emma leaning back, removing her hand from her business partner's, and pushing herself off her desk to meet her assistant in all the mess. And all Alex could do was sigh, return the papers to her desk, and sneak back into his own office with his hands in his pockets.

(…)

The rest of the week was so ordinary that Alex would have missed it going by if it weren't for the gentle reminders, like the weather changing. For the past few days, the only deviation from his normal routine was the two extra minutes he spent in his car before and after work. In those minutes, he found himself reminding his brain, and maybe even his heart, that he had kissed Emma. And, more importantly, that she'd kissed him too. He knew she was taking her time to process or whatever but it was these two minute pep-talks that made getting through the day livable.

His two minutes were interrupted on Thursday after work when he received a text from the exact person who seemed to be driving him insane.

(17:34) I sincerely hope you didn't waste time and money on buying a coffee alone?

Acknowledgement of their last texting conversation plus a hint of a potential date (-type, thing)? Alex felt pathetic, but wrote back anyway.

(17:36) You do realize we work in the same building? Eight hours a day, five days a week? I may even have the office next to yours.

A lull in conversation that he expected would soon become another two days of radio silence with another terrible excuse tapered to the end. But the two days turns out to be just ten minutes. This time.

(17:45) I've never known you to be such an expressive texter…

Then,

(17:45) Anyway, I've been busy

His turn – (17:46) With your pre-emptive planning? Because I have to tell you, I think it's less work actually having a client…

Hers – (17:48) Very uncool, Alex

(17:49) As is using the word "uncool" past the age of 12

(17:49) Spoken like someone who was never cool past the age of 12

(17:50) Careful there, that was almost a compliment

More silence, but this time Alex used it as a reason to actually make the drive back home. As he did so, he heard his phone go off, but didn't check it. A part of him wondered whether he should just drop by her place, as she seemed to find no problem doing it to him. A bigger part of him kind of wished she would be there at his place, sitting on his porch wearing an oversized sweater like she did when they were kids. When he did get home to find his porch quite obviously Emma-less, he began to wonder how things had gotten so messy since then.

Probably around the same time you fell in love with her, his voice of reason deduced. Oh, shut it, he thought back, intelligently.

The text he received while driving reads,

(18:01) When I compliment you, you'll know

And he didn't know what to say to that so he put his phone on silent and opted for going for a run instead.

(…)

It had been more than a week and Alex was realizing that it was becoming more difficult to find reasons to appear in Emma's office seemingly by chance. He stopped appearing all together by the second week, not so much because he had given up but more so because he believed he wasn't giving Emma her space. However, how much more space could he grant after this? Maybe he needed a few days away doing something, anything, to get his mind of the subject.

The strange thing was, Emma still kept appearing in his office from time to time. Usually just to drop off paperwork (the kind with the dollar signs not the ones with the dress patterns) or to run some small fact by him. He was used to that, but he wasn't used to her slipping into the chair beside his for no rhyme or reason. They would sit there silently for a minute, usually accompanied by the sound of him typing away at some spreadsheet or other, and then Alex would politely ask Emma if she needed anything from him. She would stare at him a minute, surprised, after he asked. Then she would shake her head, muttering something about forgetting what it was or realizing suddenly that it was a job more suited for Harriet, and leave his office without another word.

Alex didn't let himself think too deeply into any of this. His two-minute pep talks were already two and a half minutes long now, he really didn't need anything else to add to make it a full three minutes.

For someone who insisted on having a kitchenette in the office, Emma didn't use it often. That's why he was surprised to see her there one morning (week two) when he was making, of all things, coffee.

"Explain this to me," Emma asked, plopping herself down on one of the peach chairs and gesturing at his hands, which were paused over the various requirements for his coffee. He almost laughed at her question, as it was the one he'd been holding on the edge of his tongue for weeks, though not in relation to coffee. But he bit his tongue and looked at her strangely.

"For someone who's almost pretentiously proud of her various coffee blends, I find it hard to believe you don't know how to make coffee."

She gave him a face that said You're an ass and he had to force his own to remain stoically neutral. With no appropriate response, Emma rolled her eyes and stood up to move next to him and point to her three-figure coffee maker and the various inserts among whatever else it took to make the stuff she drinks most mornings.

"I know how to make my coffee, Alex. I'm asking how you make yours," she said, turning to face him with her arms crossed and her hip pressed against the kitchen counter. That day, she was in a long, loose purple knit sweater and evergreen jeans with her hair down in simple curls, which Alex will attest is just as distracting as anything else she wears.

He took an extra second looking her over, without meaning to, but it nevertheless ended up putting him on the receiving end of one of Emma Woodhouse's trying-not-to-smile-but-very-clearly-smiling faces. He smiled back slightly but cleared his throat before asking, "Why?"

She rolled her eyes, "I'm wondering why you're so far off the mark, why does it matter why?"

Alex looked back at her sternly for the first time in a long while, "I like knowing why certain things are happening, as it generally helps me to understand them." And even though he meant for it to be sarcastic it came out more exasperated and he knew it was because he wanted answers to questions he didn't feel like drilling out of her.

On her part, Emma avoided his eye as though she knew what he was referring to. Honestly, it would have surprised him greatly if she didn't at least somewhat understand the undertone he was expressing. She turned to move away, assuming she had hit a raw nerve he wasn't quite ready to forgive her for, but instead Alex lightly caught her wrist in his hand and pulled her back to his side.

He walked her through making a pot of coffee the old-fashioned way and even though he was almost certain she knew how to do it herself, she seemed to enjoy pretending to be in awe at the simple things he did. The whole thing felt very high school in the 'Let Me Teach You How To Do This Thing While I Shamelessly Flirt with You' kind of way, but Alex honestly didn't care, he felt like he'd embarrassed himself enough around her to last a lifetime. So he made a point of grabbing objects from around her back, using a well-place hand on her waist to move her out of the way when he needed to, or just plain leaning in obnoxiously close to explain the simplistic step by step process.

But Emma's smile seemed permanently glued to her face so he couldn't care less about anything else.

Once the pot was made, Alex presented her with a mug of the black liquid, mixed with a hint of soy milk though he was sure he would need to add more once she'd had a sip. Most people don't really realize how bitter pure coffee is. She took her first sip and sputtered, as he expected her to, looking up at him like he'd just wilfully poisoned her.

Alex laughed and took the mug from her hand. She grimaced down at it before commenting, "I'm glad I just acquired a skill for something I will never need," which made him laugh harder.

"Oh, I wasn't so certain you were paying attention," he baited her, unsure of what to expect. He poured his own cup of the stuff, preparing to drink it black.

"The guy who taught me was a little distracting," she responded, and it's a miracle he didn't choke on his coffee right then and there. Instead, he only raised his eyebrows and swallowed the small sip he took slowly, the bitter suddenly seeming perfectly sweet.

"I'm pretty sure that was a compliment," he said. The response was weak and almost could have ended in a question mark but Alex was barely taking any chances.

Emma just shrugged, moved her own rejected mug into the sink, and said "I told you you'd know." Then she was exiting the kitchen and Alex was beginning to realize that he really needed to think of an excuse for her to stick around one of these times.

(…)

The day was not one of his best, for more than the usual reasons, and he felt he was developing a bit of a migraine. Naturally, all this translated into a need for alcohol, so he slipped into his boxers, laid down on his bed, and cracked the seal on a single bottle of beer (which was all that he was allowing himself). He turned on the TV to some comedic cop show that managed to capture his attention for more than a few minutes. It was actually really funny and kept his mind off everything else, when suddenly his phone went off.

He searched the covers for a few minutes before mysteriously finding it under one of his pillows. Strange really, how that happens.

(21:11) I think we've run out of things to talk about that are coffee related

Alex found himself staring at Emma's text and realized that it was going to take far more effort than he was willing to muster just then to answer it kindly. So he slipped the phone back under his pillow and returned his attentions to the television set.

It buzzed again when the episode ended.

(21:31) Definitely didn't think that was a conversation-ender but so be it

He again ignored it and channel surfed until he found another comedic cop show with different actors. How many of these did the world really need?

His phone went off again like a response to his question. The text was just a drowned out version of his name; he could hear her whining as though she was physically there in the room with him. He didn't understand why she was so desperate to talk to him, they had already had plenty of conversation that day. Mostly her talking to him, explaining to him that he was utterly clueless when it came to the important stuff in life – important meaning somehow related to her match-making or life-coaching. His being utterly clueless had more to do with him disagreeing with her than anything else.

In truth, he didn't have anything left to say to her and didn't feel like indulging her ego like she probably expected.

The stupid device didn't bother him again until he was just getting ready for bed and plugging it in to recharge. The message flashed on the screen just before it informed him that he had 6% battery left. Alex went to check it, against his better judgement.

(22:50) You had better be away from your phone right now -.-

And that's when he broke his own resolve and said what he had been avoiding saying for a very long time.

(22:52) You said that we could try and you haven't been. So I'm done, too.

Then he shut down his phone completely and went to bed, which was only successful because he was exhausted.

(…)

The morning greeted him with three new text messages from Emma that he didn't bother checking. Instead, he cleared his phone of the alerts without reading them and got ready for work. If she needed to talk to him, she could settle for doing it in person.

Emma clearly didn't like the idea of talking to him face to face though because she didn't come to see him in his office any time that morning. He didn't receive any new messages from her, though there were a few in his inbox from his brother. For a fleeting and embarrassing moment, he wondered if she'd tried to contact him through John, but he perused the texts and found that John was just wondering if he had any plans to visit in the next while. His brother had new ideas for the menu and he needed, well requested, Alex's approval. He wrote back saying that he'd call him later that night and they could make plans; he was beginning to realize more and more how much he needed a break from here.

Harriet came to visit him just a few minutes before his lunch usually started.

"Hi, Mr. Knightley," she said wearily as she took a seat in the chair beside him. He returned the salutation before trying to clear up his desk a bit; he had recently had a mountain of paperwork thrown his way and he was still trying to make sense of it all.

"Oh, it's no problem. I'm sure this is how you like things…organized," Harriet offered, when they both realized it would take more than a few trips to get the papers off his desk. He gave her a thankful smile before asking, "What's up?"

She twisted a lock of her hair before responding, "Does Emma seem…different to you, lately I mean?"

Alex wasn't sure where this conversation was headed so he narrowed his eyes slightly. "In what way, exactly?"

"Well, she's been very…frazzled for the last while, but now she seems downright upset," Harriet practically whispered the last word, as if the fact that her boss was human was a national secret.

On Alex's part, he blinked in surprise. Granted, he hadn't been seeing as much of his business partner as he was used to over the last month, but he thought he would notice if she was either of those things. Emma hadn't seemed any less than her usual confident self whenever he was around, maybe a touch more stressed but not in over her head.

"It's probably just the new client keeping her busy and she's feeling overwhelmed," he offered, but Harriet shook her head vehemently.

"I've met the client and she's the furthest thing from stress-inducing. She's all too happy to follow every one of Emma's suggestions," Harriet shrugged her shoulders in exasperation. "She's the perfect client!"

Alex felt as confused as Harriet seemed to be, the only advantage being that he knew one thing that might be stressing her out, but he had grown to doubt that was really something that was bothering her, given her actions. Nevertheless, he promised the young assistant he'd look into it once he got back from lunch, though how he intended to do that he wasn't sure.

"Thank you, Mr. Knightley. I think you're exactly what she needs right now," Harriet offered, as he led her out of his office. Alex looked at her surprised, but hastily nodded before heading to the door, and his car, to clear his head.

When he reached the parking lot at Highbury, one thing he didn't expect was to find Emma there, though they admittedly took their lunches at the same time most days. Still, he wondered if he was imagining things given that he'd just been thinking about her and then she'd appeared, leaning against his car without a care in the world.

As he approached, he got to see her more clearly. The sea foam green one-piece thing she was wearing probably didn't appreciate being pressed up against his car, though he had cleaned it pretty recently. She was staring down at her phone so she didn't see him walking towards her. Instead, she just kept standing there, repeatedly brushing the hair out of her eyes. For a minute, he contemplated heading back inside, his hunger be damned. But that would constitute running away, and he was really sick and tired of that escape plan.

"Alex," Emma said, having noticed his shoes arriving before the rest of him. She looked up from her phone to gave him a small smile, meeting his eyes though he was certain he did not look pleased to see her there. "Hi," she tried once more and this time he nodded to acknowledge her presence.

Her face sort of fell and Alex was beginning to see what Harriet meant by her being off. Without even the hint of smile, he could really see how tired Emma seemed, how down she must be feeling. The look took over his better judgement and he suddenly broke the distance between them.

"Hey," he tried, soothingly, while placing a hand on her shoulder. She gave him another half-hearted "Hi," but didn't try to catch his eye.

"I'm guessing you need to tell me something," he offered, giving her a smile to ease her back into her cheeriness.

She smiled back but shook her head, "No, I was really just admiring your car." And he laughed because he wanted her to be okay again, also the idea was ludicrous.

"If you're admitting to that, then something must be really wrong," he said, waiting for her to look him in the eye again before smiling. She laughed, "I was completely kidding."

"Yet you're still leaning against my car?" he joked as she stood up straight, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow. Alex shrugged in response, "Point taken."

He removed his hand from her shoulder and placed both of them in his pockets. She followed the motion with her eyes. There was another beat of silence before she spoke up.

"I'm sorry." That was it.

He looked at her perplexed for a minute, "For what?"

She moved to brush her hair behind her ear before twirling her side-ponytail, a hairstyle he knew often drove her nuts. Then she took a deep breath, and repeated the motion, which made him realize she was trying not to cry.

"I screwed this up," she complained, biting her lip and looking at the space just beside his ear. It took every ounce of self-control not to take her face in his hands and kiss her, but that wasn't what she needed right now.

Instead, he said "Explain to me what's happening here. Please," he added, when her breathing started getting out of rhythm. She shrugged slightly and went back to leaning against his car.

"Do you remember the night after your date with Diane?" she asked, and he almost laughed as if to say what else could have possibly been on his mind this whole time? But instead, he nodded and prompted her to continue.

"Well, the next day my Dad called and he was having…" she closed her eyes and tried to find the best way to describe her father's behaviour. But Alex knew the man well enough and didn't need her to say anything more than that he had needed his daughter that night. "So I went to go see him and I just spent the whole weekend with him, trying to relieve him of his worries, but nothing helped. I'm surprised he even let me go to work that week, but I visited him every night and, quite frankly, I don't think I slept for two days straight, probably more," her eyes shot open frantically, "I'm not trying to make excuses or use this against you or –"

Alex cut her off by clutching one of her fluttering hands in his. "Don't worry about that, just tell me what happened." She looked into his eyes for a moment before closing hers again, leaving her hand comfortably in his.

"He wasn't getting better so I called Izzy because she's always telling me to keep our father's health in check, like it's my responsibility, but she didn't seem particularly moved by it. She thought I had it all under control and somehow that stemmed into an argument that wasn't doing anything positive for our father's nerves," she dragged her foot along the gravel for a second. Alex wasn't sure if she had any more words left to give when she took a deep breath and continued talking. "He's fine now. Well, as fine as my father ever is, but I just…I'm feeling out of sorts, I guess. And your text from last night," he tried to get in a word edgewise here but she stopped him, "No, you were right. I wasn't trying; I was too wrapped up in everything else to treat you like a priority. And what's worse, I didn't know how to trust you enough to say 'Hey, I know you want to talk about us, but can we table that for right now so you can help me deal with my Dad' so instead I spent four weeks talking to you about coffee. The life-coach in me has never been so glaringly unimpressed."

He chuckled softly before saying, "You could have just said that."

"Oh, but our past conversations have been so stimulating," she joked, looking back up at him.

"I consider any conversation where you aren't viciously telling me how wrong I am to be worthwhile," he offered, before immediately wishing he could take it back when she winced in response.

"I'm sorry about that too," she started. "It's fine," he replied, shaking his head.

"No, it's not. I was angry because I just wanted something to go my way but I didn't even have the decency to tell you why I needed something, anything, to be going right for me just then." She looked down at the ground between them, "I really need to stop expecting you to read me like an open book, Alex. It's not very becoming for my sense of mystery."

He laughed again, wondering how she managed to make this situation funny when it felt the furthest thing from it. She looked up at him and smiled, "I like your laugh. I've missed it."

In response, he smiled and let go off her hand, which earned him a confused expression from the woman across from him. "I think we need to agree to no more secrets from either of us," he said, offering his hand to shake in between them.

Emma looked at his hand and cocked her head to the side, skeptically. "We have to shake on it to make it official," Alex explained, sounding more like a twelve year old version of himself than he intended.

She narrowed her eyes then looked up at him, "I'd rather kiss on it." And he'd be lying if he said his cheeks weren't the colour of cherries after that.

There was more laughter before she said "You really need to stop looking so surprised when I flirt with you, Mr. Knightley."

Alex bit his lip before responding, "I think the trick to that is practice."

Emma made a noise to confirm that before she wrapped her arms around his neck and caught his surprised lips in a kiss.

(…)

They do eventually get coffee. Emma isn't much of a franchised coffee drinker herself, but she loves the atmosphere of a good coffee shop. Alex informs her this is a result of her being pretentious. He gets an elbow in the ribs in response to that.

The place they eventually decided on isn't even a large multinational coffee giant with beans imported from all corners of the globe. Instead, it's an almost hole-in-the-wall kind of place in downtown Los Angeles, populated mostly by high powered businesspeople trying to catch a break between enormous company deals, no doubt. And the coffee is as bitter as Alex likes it, though they're happy to serve it with tons of sweetener and soy milk. Somehow, it manages to be the perfect combination of the two of them without even meaning to be.

When Alex got home that evening, his phone went off almost before he even got through the door.

(17:10) Coffee - definitely a thing we should do together more often

He wrote back after dropping off his bag from work in his office.

(17:13) Are we back to discussing coffee, then?

Her response comes through mere seconds later.

(17:13) Nope! Temporary lapse in judgement

(17:14) How was your day?

Alex laughed.

(17:15) You're a terrible conversationalist

(17:15) And yet, here we are, conversing..

(17:16) This is the bare-minimum of communication

(17:17) I beg to differ

(17:17) Based on what?

(17:18) We could be discussing the weather ;)

(17:19) Touché

Alex returned to his office after sending the last text and setting his phone on silent. As entertaining as the conversation was, he needed to sort through some emails and call it an early night. After doing just that, he shut off the light in his office and headed up the stairs with his phone in hand. She had left him three messages.

(17:20) Haha :)

(18:45) Are you free for dinner on Friday?

(18:58) I promise to find a place you'll actually eat at..

He found himself grinning like an idiot at the screen of his smartphone. For things to have started out the way that they did only to come into alignment over just a few short weeks made him feel a great deal better than he would ever have expected. As such, he typed out a simple "Yes," before continuing a conversation that kept him up far later than he'd intended. Not that he complained, not even for a moment.

(…)

It's months later, when she calls him asking him to meet up at her father's house on a Saturday afternoon. Such a request could mean any number of things, so Alex chooses to be ready for anything.

She opens the door after his first knock and takes in the sight of him standing there, holding a take away cup from their little coffee shop downtown. Before he even has a chance to ask her what was going on, she's hugging him, her arms wrapped fiercely around his neck.

"Thanks for coming," she mumbles behind his back. He tells her it's nothing and wraps a single arm around her waist, holding her up and balancing the cup in his other hand. When she pulls back, she presses a slow kiss to his lips which he returns in earnest. Then she grabs the coffee from his hands and tugs him through the doorway into her father's house.

She had once described to him what it had been like the last time her father's worries got particularly suffocating. This wasn't like that, as far as Alex could tell anyway. So rather than spending time calming him down, Alex was required to get hard at work distracting him.

They play a few games of chess together first while Emma's father goes through a whole pot of some strange herbal tea. Then, Alex takes it upon himself to discuss the stock market, which he quite honestly only has a minimal interest in despite having a wealth of understanding in it. When Mr. Woodhouse tires of stocks, Alex goes over, for perhaps the hundredth time, the many reasons why their office was a safe working environment. He feels as though he could tell him about this until he was blue in the face and her father would still have his worries about air ventilation or roof sinking or rocky foundations. But with each reiteration of the safety precautions they had taken when choosing the building, Mr. Woodhouse seems to become a tiny bit more convinced.

After the extensive afternoon of chess, stocks, and building specifications, Emma's father chooses to part ways with them in order to take a nap.

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Knightley," he says, gripping Alex's hand with more gusto than the younger man is used to.

Alex nods before saying, "Same to you, sir."

Mr. Woodhouse stands and Alex joins him, Emma watching the entire exchange from the couch beside them.

"Emma will be happy to show you out," he continues, perhaps more forcefully than was necessary before exiting the room. Alex turns to his girlfriend who walks him silently to the door without so much as a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll text you in a bit," she says, sounding all too excited for someone who has been cooped up inside all day. Alex nods and finds himself on the other side of a closed door before managing to get any other words in. He sighs and stares at the door strangely before turning on his heel and getting back into his car.

Emma doesn't text him all day. He knows because his phone is at its highest volume despite the fact that he was going around all day performing errands. The last task is barely completed as he rushes to the post office before it closed at eight. He drops off a package and a letter while he was there because, as Emma once put it, he's one of those boring people who enjoys sending snail mail and believes the Earth is still flat. It was one of her more colourful insults that she'd managed one Saturday when he'd dragged her along to do the errands as she was staying over at his condo.

When he arrives back home, it's getting dark and he almost misses the shadow seated on his front porch steps. But he notices Emma's small figure under his porch light when he steps out of his car, phone in hand. She smiles when she sees him and he takes that as an invitation to sit down next to her, which he does.

He turns to look at her and she smiles again, and he notices her wearing one of his old university sweaters that he hadn't known had gone missing from his closet. She hugs herself in it and he waits for her to say something.

"That wasn't awful for you, was it?" she asks, referring to the afternoon he'd spent looking after her Dad.

"No," he replies, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her slightly closer on the small slab of concrete. He props his head on top of hers and speaks into her hair, "No, of course not. You know I enjoy spending time with him. I always have."

She's silent for a minute before speaking. "You didn't notice anything different, did you?" she asks, untangling herself from underneath him.

He looks her over, confused, but then seems to clue in. "I think my hand may be sore for a few weeks, but I'll manage," he jokes, flexing the hand at her hip that he had used to shake her father's. Emma laughs and moves her head onto his shoulder.

"I told him about us," she starts, voice tight, closing her eyes. When he doesn't say or do anything, Emma lifts her head to look at him with her brow furrowed.

He looks back at her and says, "I thought he already knew. I'm not exactly subtle." Which was true, but was limited really to him picking her up occasionally from her father's house. They were very rarely together around him.

Now that it was Emma's turn to remain silent, Alex continues, "I would have wanted him to know sooner, but it was your choice, I suppose." He wasn't sure if he agreed with his own words entirely there, but the important thing was that her father knew now and Emma was still there with him on his porch. "I wish I could have been there for you though," he says, pressing a kiss to the side of her head gently.

But Emma shakes her head, "No, it was better on my own. Trust me. Besides, it was high time he knew anyway."

Alex laughs lightly, "Why's that?"

She turns to look at him, confused. "Because I love you," she says, like it doesn't carry the weight of the world. On his part, Alex tries to find a way to respond to that but isn't quite sure how, so he ends up looking more like a fish gasping for air. At his reaction, Emma smiles brightly, "You have got to stop looking so surprised," she says before locking her arms around his neck and kissing him. She was getting good at that.

Thankfully, he was getting pretty good himself so he moved to catch her waist in his hands. She smiled against his lips and he smiled back, bringing himself back to a time when he thought such happiness would ruin him. Now he welcomes it with open arms, getting lost in the feeling of her fingers in his hair and her hand tugging at his shirt to bring him closer. When they break apart for air, he realizes that he's building up an immunity to this pure elation, which only makes him crave it that much more.

"I'm sorry it took so long," she breathes out, her forehead pressed to his.

"I love you," he says, breathlessly in response, and Emma almost laughs. "I don't care, I love you. I love you so much, I literally couldn't care less." He kisses her lightly and repeats the words at least a half a dozen times until he's completely out of breath and entirely unable to do anything but sit there and just breathe.

Emma cups his face and smiles up at him and he says it again, amazed that he made it this long in life without saying it, especially now that it feels more crucial to his existence than breathing. He finally takes a break long enough for her to say it back to him and he stops talking, realizing how it is equally great to hear it being said than it is to say it. They both catch their breath in the silence.

"I have to go back to check on my Dad," Emma says eventually, and Alex shakes his head slowly.

"Yes," she laughs, "but we'll talk tomorrow."

Alex groans but gets up and helps her off his admittedly uncomfortable porch. He walks her down to her car silently and she unlocks the door before pulling him into a hug. It was nice and when she finally lets go, he feels bursting with energy again.

Emma says good night and presses a kiss to his cheek before slipping into the driver's seat. He tells her he loves her through the open window and Emma rolls her eyes with a smile on her face before saying it back.

"Now, may I go and uphold the title of bestest daughter ever, or do you have to say it a few more hundred times?" she jokes, and he narrows his eyes at her before waving her off.

Once she's out of sight he texts her:

(20:21) Bestest is not a word

And he can almost hear her exasperation from where he's standing.

So yes, there are perks to silence, to things better left unsaid, to actions that don't need to be vocalized. But at this point, Alex would be willing to fill every unjustified silence with those three little words, and even then, he doesn't think he would have said it nearly enough.

They continue to be the proverbial worst! Darn their adorableness. Anyway, I have a lot of plans for THFAU so hopefully I'll actually put pen to paper (or rather, fingers to keys?) in order to get one of those written as soon as possible.