A/N: Ok, number four. Just a warning, it's a little different as far as style of writing goes, cuz I'm officially bored and fed up with writing dialogue scenes. Haha. So basically, its unorthodox but this is actually my personal favorite of the five. There's less of a touchy-feely relationship established between the two in this fic, purely because it worked better for what I was writing. Enjoy!

Two teenagers sit next to each other in a coffee shop, one with curly hair, the other with straight. They get up to order, and one says something to the waitress that makes her laugh and the other girl pout. When they make their way back to the couch, the one with the curly hair sits on a different couch, crossing her arms and sticking her tongue out at the other girl when she protests. Eventually, she moves back and slides down the couch, maybe a bit closer to the brunette than necessary, but if they notice neither one says anything. They talk, they laugh, and the one takes pictures of the other that make her smile. The one with the curls makes a grab for the other girl's phone, misses, and the brunette pulls her coat over her head to try and hide from the girl with the curly hair. Not thinking much of it, the one with the blonde curls and green eyes slips under the coat as well, still intent upon looking for the cell phone. The brunette laughs, and both girls become suddenly aware of how close they are under the coat, of how dark and small a space it is. Eyes meet, and the blonde looks away first, moving from under the coat. Ignoring the looks from the nearby customers, both girls pretend nothing happened, that they weren't mere centimeters apart a few seconds earlier, and they continue to talk until one of them has to leave.

Days later, at the same coffee shop, the brunette makes the difficult decision to try a smoothie. Once again sitting pressed against the blonde's side, she shivers at the cold both outside the shop and the cold drink she ordered. Her friend looks at her with concern as she starts to shake, and entertains for a moment the idea of wrapping an arm around the other girl and pulling her close to try and warm her. The thought is fleeting, and she settles for taking one of the other girl's hands and rubbing it between her own in an effort to warm it. Minutes pass, and the brunette finally stops shaking. Resting her head on the other girl's shoulder, the blonde can't help but think that it would have been better for them both if she had wrapped the other girl in her arms and warmed her that way instead.

A week has passed, and the two girls are sitting in their usual place in the coffee shop. The waitress brings their orders, and one of them grabs a magazine off the table in front of them. Both trying to read and get comfortable at the same time, they end up with the brunette's back pressed against the chest of the blonde. The position the two are in is suddenly more interesting to the blonde, and she becomes painfully aware of the press of curves and warmth against her own body. The blonde's arm rests on the top of the couch, and she makes a mental note not to let it fall. Looking over the brunette's shoulder, she slowly lets her lips rest against the fabric of the shirt, and can't help but wonder what it would be like if there was no fabric between her lips and the brunette's skin. A few minutes later, the blonde shifts her position, and the brunette suddenly moves away from the other girl. Asking aloud how they could have ended up in that position, one of them jokes about how it's just so natural. They both laugh, but the blonde's smile is half-hearted as she wishes that it was natural.

It's been a while since the girls have been able to make it to the coffee shop, but they both agree to go on a Thursday night, when an author is supposed to be doing a reading from one of his books. They both arrive and take their usual seat, the blonde curling up against the brunette. As the author reads, they realize that it's a dark, scary story and the brunette looks at her friend with a mischievous look in her eyes. Reaching up, she takes the blonde's hand and intertwines their fingers. The blonde looks down in surprise, and tries not to let on too much that she likes the way it feels to hold the hand of the brunette. Towards the end of the story, the author yells at a particularly dramatic point, and the brunette jumps. The blonde smiles at her and squeezes her hand, her smile growing just a bit wider when the other girl squeezes back. But then the story ends, and it's as though a spell is broken. The brunette lets go of her hand, disentangles herself from the blonde, and stands. The blonde nods and smiles when her friend asks if she liked the story, but she knows that she liked holding the brunette's hand far more than the story.

In the usual spot, the two girls sit as close as they always do. This time is different for the blonde, however, because this time she is acutely aware of every move that the other girl makes, and that worries her. She knows it can't be good for her to be thinking of the brunette like she is, but she can't help it. Just being around the other girl is enough for her at this point, for she still has trouble admitting even to herself that she wants more with the brunette. Putting her hands against her cheeks, the brunette grins and tells the blonde her hands are freezing. Holding out one of her hands and obviously expecting some sort of confirmation, she waits until the blonde takes it. Rubbing the hand a bit between her hands to warm it, the blonde gently moves her thumb back and forth across the other girl's palm without even thinking about it. The brunette shivers once and moves her hand away. Laughing, she tells the blonde that it felt funny, but this time it is the brunette putting on a slightly fake smile, because she knows that the feeling was more than funny. It sent bolts of heat through her body, and that scares her because she knows that shouldn't really be happening, at least not when it's with the blonde. Their coffee is sipped in silence that day, as each thinks about the other.

The two girls are in a dark corner of the upstairs part of the coffee shop. Their usual seat was already taken by a group of college students, so they trudged up the stairs and walked past the businessmen with their laptops and the other students with their stacks of books until they reached the farthest corner of the coffee chop. There was one large chair, and the blonde sat down. The brunette scoffed and tried to get her to move, and when she wouldn't she sat on her lap instead. Neither girl expected it to be so easy for them to sit like that, but somehow they seem to fit together in the most comfortable way. The blonde tentatively wraps her arms around the brunette, pulling her closer, though she would say it was just to keep the other girl from falling if anyone asked. The brunette lets herself be held, wrapping her arms over those of the blonde and holding on tightly as she leans back against the other girl. When the waitress finally finds them, she shoots them a questioning look, and the brunette flies off the blonde's lap, not wanting to think about the implications of the look or how much less comfortable she feels without the blonde's arms around her.

Once again relegated to the back corner, both girls are a little sad and a little happy that the single chair has been replaced by a couch. Sitting in the usual position, they talk for a while, until the brunette steals the blonde's phone. Lunging for the brunette, they end up with the blonde holding the brunette tightly from behind while the brunette continues trying to get away. The brunette tries to take a step but instead manages to take out one of the blonde's legs, sending them both toppling onto the couch. As she moves to get up, the blonde happens to look down and is met by a pair of large hazel eyes staring up at her. Unable to break the gaze of the brunette beneath her, the blonde hovers a few inches above her face, just looking down at her. Finally unable to take the weight of the emotion in the brunette's stare, the blonde hesitantly leans down and presses their lips together. It starts out as a noncommital peck on the lips, but after only a second the brunette reaches up and wraps her arms around the back of the blonde's neck, pulling her closer. The kiss quickly turns heated and passionate, with neither girl wanting to stop to breathe, as though breathing will make it all disappear like a distant dream. Breaking apart and gasping for air, the blonde quickly moves back down to the brunette's lips, wanting to make sure that what she's feeling is real. Blonde curls meld seamlessly with a waterfall of brunette hair as the two girls explore each other's mouths. When they come apart again, green eyes meet hazel, and both flash with a desire too long held in check. Taking the brunette's hand, the blonde tugs her off the couch and towards the fire escape, finding herself shoved against a wall by the brunette before the door even closes behind them, and hungry lips meet once more. The next few minutes happen almost too quickly for either girl to comprehend, and they are just the smallest bit rushed and imperfect. The words that are said after, though, more than make up for it as they lay wrapped in each other's arms on the top step of the fire escape. Snuggling close together, both murmur quietly the three magic words that they have both been missing: I love you.

Yup. Definitely my favorite. A whole fic with no dialogue...who knew it could be so much fun to write?

AND, as a bonus, it doesn't center on either one! My most balanced work yet, I think...not that that's saying anything.

Reviews are love, it makes my day to hear from everyone who reads my stuff!