Stepping into the busy coffee shop, he instantly joined the long queue, already eying the gorgeous blonde that was slowly serving the customers. He had come in here everyday for the two months since he had found her, hoping desperately to get her attention. All attempts had failed, and he resulted in always ordering the flat white, constantly batting his eyelashes at her as he waited for the beverage.

Today was no different. The scent of coffee now becoming only a faint smell in the background, he stepped forward to the counter, only one other customer in front of him. Letting his gaze fall on the blonde girl again, he took in her appearance, imagining her curves under her uniform or how her hair would look when it wasn’t tied back.

“Excuse me, do you plan on holding up the line the entire day? Some of us have jobs to go to,”

blinked, glancing at the owner of the voice who stood behind. Scowling at her as her dark eyes seemed to glare at him, before a blush rose in his cheeks, knowing that she was waiting for his order. Another failed visit.

Mumbling his order, he stood back to the side as he waited for the barrister to make it. If only that girl behind him hadn’t of announced his mistake of falling into a day dream, he might have even known her name now.

Sighing he stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking around the still busy café as the girl with the brown eyes stood beside him, coughing slightly, he shuffled to the left, her presence immediately annoying him.

“I don’t like it, it sounds too forced,”

couldn’t help but glare as criticised his song. Too forced? It was a love song, how could it sound too forced? How could it be anything but about love.

“You have to mean the lyrics , feel them, believe them,” sighed, as if reading his mind, “And you don’t believe in love,”

Throwing the pen onto the table with the piece of paper, he simply stood up and left the studio.
Not believe in love?
was having a laugh.
Love was the only thing he believed in. was one thing he thought he could rely on, but she wrenched it away from him.

For hours he had wished he had never met her that day, never learnt what her name was, never went back to that damn coffee shop.
But if he did, then he would be in an even worse condition than he was now.
She had shown him what love was.
What love could be.
And it was him.
Him and her.

”Ow, fuck,” He winced as he felt the hot liquid splash down his arm and through his shirt, tearing his eyes away from the girl behind the counter.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. Here,”

He wrenched away as the girl tried to dab away the hot liquid from his shirt and skin.

“Just watch where ya going next time,” He frowned as he recognized the eyes.

“Well, I thought I’ could get around you. You know you were standing in the middle of the walk way,” She muttered, glancing down, brushing some of her hair behind her ears, “I’m really sorry,”

“It’s okay,” He’s feelings softened as he realised how sorry she really was, “Ehm. Here, let me get you another one,” he gestured towards the counter, “Was kinda my fault too,”

“I ran into the other day,” whispered as he sat on the ground next to his friend, watching as the boy shoved his wallet back into his jeans, “She, uh, said, all your stuff’s packed and ready to be picked up. Whenever you want it,”

“Okay. Thanks for telling me,” He bowed his head. This was it. It was really over.

“So, you met, by spilling coffee on each other?”

couldn’t help but smile as her friend spoke.

“That’s such a movie moment,”

“We didn’t,” He interrupted her, getting raised eyebrows from his girlfriend, “We met when caught me perving on the girl behind the counter,”

“That doesn’t sound as romantic as the other way,” laughed, but gave him a smile, him reflecting one back to her, finding it hard not to.

Sighing again, he followed back into the studio, knowing he couldn’t stay in the corridor all day. No matter how much he just wanted to sit and cry.

He had ruined it. He hadn’t seen what was happening. Noticed what he was doing was hurting her. But he didn’t care. All he wanted was her back. To have her to hold, to know she was sleeping next to him. To know she would be home when he got in.

Glancing at the new clean piece of paper, he screwed his nose up as the smell of coffee entered his sense. Coffee had always been their thing.

Gingerly picking up the pen, he ignored the Styrofoam cup that was placed in front of him, almost getting distracted by the steam that was floating from it, before he scribbled the only thing in his mind down.

Without saying a word, he shoved the piece of paper in front of , before he stood up.

“I have to go. I need to pick my stuff up from ’s before it gets too late,”

He was already at the buildings entrance by the time had reached him.

“If that’s how you feel , then fight,”

Taking the stairs two at a time, he entered his bedroom as quietly as he could. A sigh of relief escaping his lips as he instantly recognised the girl beneath the covers. He was filled with doubt that she wouldn’t be there when he returned.

Stripping his clothes off down to his boxers, he climbed under the blankets, immediately feeling her shift away from.

“ ,” He spoke quietly, reaching for her as she turned her back to him.

“Go away ,” She answered, her voice low and raspy.

“What? Why? I’m back. I thought you’d be happy,” he asked confused, knowing he was guilty, but unsure why she was acting like that if she was still there.

“Happy?” she whispered, sitting up in bed.

He didn’t say a word as she reached over and turned the bedside lamp on. Still remaining silent, he took in her eyes, filled with hurt, and her dishevelled hair as she pulled her nightie tight around her body.

“I would have been happy with a simple phone call , or a text message. Just a hello,” she told him, blinking back her tears, “But you couldn’t even do that, could you? Three weeks . Three bloody weeks, and you couldn’t even ring your girlfriend to say hello,”

“I- i-,” he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t message. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know what to say to her, “I was going to,”

“But you didn’t,” She sniffed, “I think you should go,”

“What? No,” He gasped, reaching for her hand, only for it to be snatched away, “I love you ,”

“Just go ,” She whispered, “We failed. It’s over.”

Staring blankly at the house in front of him, the thoughts of how he could take everything back filled his mind again. But he knew now the only thing he would take back was leaving that night.
He should have fought. Should have explained why he hadn’t rang her. He had been too busy, to caught up in the routine of touring to think about letting her know he was alright, telling her he loved her. He thought she already knew.

Knocking on the door of his old home, he waited, and when no answer came, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or frustrated that it wasn’t over just yet.

Climbing back into his car, he knew he couldn’t go back to the studio just yet, as he let his feet and hands take him to a new destination.

Taking a deep breath, he stood out the front of the old café. Glancing through the glass in the door, he immediately recognised the blonde standing behind the counter, her smile worn and faded, before his eyes feel on a slim girl sitting in a booth at the back of the café.

Sliding into the sit across from her, neither said a word as she looked up at him, his gaze falling to her hands that were firmly wrapped around a cup of coffee, a silver ring perched firmly on her right hand.

“I called by to pick my stuff up, but you weren’t home,” He spoke gruffly, trying to ignore the uncomfortable silence that was surrounding them.

“Okay,” she simply nodded, pushing the cup away from her.

Following her out of the café, he ignored the flirtatious smile from the blonde, keeping his eyes fixed on his ex-girlfriend.

Awkwardly stepping into the hall of his old home, he waited as she went to get the boxes, his eyes travelling around the place that no longer felt warm, but cold and unwelcoming as if he were a stranger.

“This is it, it was just clothes really,” She handed him an opened box, his gaze falling on the white t-shirt that still had a coffee stain down one sleeve.

He glanced up at her. He wanted to say he was sorry. That he didn’t mean it. That everyday for the past two months he had had to fight the urge to call her, to tell her he loved her. That right now he was fighting the urge to take her in his arms, to beg her for forgiveness.
But he knew it would have been no use.
It was over.

“Thanks,” He mumbled simply in reply, dropping his gaze as his shoulder brushed hers slightly as she went to open the door for him, “Bye,”

“Bye ,”

Closing the boot of his car, he glanced back up at his old house again. It would probably be the last time he would be here.

If that’s how you feel , then fight,

Without even glancing back at his car, he made it to the door, stepping back in surprise as it flung open by itself, Becky standing with a face of surprise on his face.

“It’s not over,” He told her confidently, “It’s not over, because I love you,”

“ ,” She said his name almost hesitantly, “You should go.”

“Tell me why. Why should I go,”

“Because I love you too much to let you hurt me,” She whispered, “I can’t let you hurt me,”

“I wont,” He answered, his fingers brushing away the tears that were tracing along her cheeks, “I’ll never hurt you again. I made a mistake, I’m sorry,”

She shook her head, “You can’t say you’ll never hurt me , you can’t make promises like that. I need to be with someone who I know wont hurt me, and that isn’t you,”

“Aren’t we worth this? Aren’t we worth fighting for?” He asked desperately, “We didn’t fail anything . We just lived our lives, everyone has their ups and downs. I didn’t ring because I just forgot. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did, I never had a reason to ring home on any other tour.”

“I don’t know if I want to do this any more ,” She whispered, looking straight into his eyes, “It was just too hard.”

“I don’t want it to be easy,” He answered, taking a step closer, “I want you to give me something worth fighting for. I want you to be here when I come home. I want to come home to this house. I want to raise our children here. And I want to make love to you here. I want you to scream at me in this house, I want us to have terrible moments and happy moments. I‘ll fight for this Becky, because it’s something worth fighting for,”

“ ,”

“If it were easy, it’d be boring. I don’t want us to be boring. If it was easy, if we had everything without fights, then what would be left? Tell me?”

“I don’t know,” She whispered.

“Everyone makes mistakes , don’t let this be one we can’t take back,” He wrapped an arm around her waist, a feeling of relief as she didn’t pull away, “Do you love me?”

“You know I do,”

“then our love will get us through everything,” He whispered as their faces grew closer, their lips brushing gently.