a / n :

this story has a very, very simple plot. if you came here expecting surprising plot twists and action-packed scenes, you'll probably leave disappointed, but i'd like to think this story offers something of its own. i'd been told this reads a lot like real life. i guess that's the best thing i can say to give you guys an idea of what to expect. enjoy! :)

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O N E

SHE ALWAYS SMELLED A LITTLE bit like caramel.

That was one of the things Dexter liked about Hadley.

Her family owned this little candy shop that used to be his favorite part of their hometown when he was a kid, when Hadley wasn't yet part of his life. The sweet scent that filled the shop had stuck on her. Her hair, her clothes, her skin. It was all over her.

And that morning, it was all over him.

In the past two years of their friendship, Dexter and Hadley had fallen asleep next to each other so many times that he had been used to waking up to Hadley's scent. Often, she had to complain about him nuzzling his nose into her hair to get a whiff of it, pushing him away with a forceful hand without even bothering to open her eyes, mumbling incoherently before falling right back to sleep.

The smell reminded him of his childhood, of days when plastic-wrapped caramel candies and chocolate gold coins left his teeth aching but his thoughts happy. It was intoxicating, at times, and comforting, more often, and sometimes he can't stop himself from scooting closer to Hadley just because.

Under normal circumstances, that's exactly what he would have done that morning when he woke up.

But there's nothing normal about these circumstances, and when he opens his eyes to see that Hadley's are already wide open, he knows that something is wrong.

He always wakes up first.

And there's something hard about her gaze; like it's edged with steel and guarded with a brick wall. It reminds him too much of the way she used to look at him before. Distant. Removed. Unforgiving.

He props himself up on an elbow in alarm, ready to ask her what's up until he realizes something he should have already noticed the moment he woke up.

He was naked under the sheets.

His eyes snap to hers, then at the way she hugs the covers to her body.

The whole setup confuses him for a moment, makes him feel like he hasn't completely woken up from a dream. After all, it certainly wouldn't be the first time for him to have dreamt of something along these lines, but somehow, he knows this is real. His brows furrow, the gears in his head slowly rumbling to life as he scrambles to make sense of the situation

That's when flashbacks of the previous night surge into his thoughts. Hadley, showing up on his doorstep. Breaking down to tears in front of him. Complaining about Josh. Kissing him on the couch. Him kissing her back. The two of them climbing up to the bedroom.

The gravity of the situation hits him like a hard slap in the face.

"Shit," he says, suddenly aware of the dull ache in his head and the hoarseness of his throat. He sinks back down to the pillow, bringing his wrists to his eyes as he breathes in, then out, and sit back up again. "Did we just..."

He can't quite finish the sentence, but Hadley nods anyway.

His heart drops to his stomach.

"Had," he begins, but she immediately cuts him off.

"We were drunk and we didn't know what we were doing." She doesn't bother to cast him a glance, and when she speaks, he can tell she's been thinking about this for a while now. "It was an accident and obviously it never should have happened. But it did, and that's all right. We'll just forget it ever happened and we'll be all right." This time, she turns to him. "Right?"

There's a slight furrow to her eyebrows, and he can see her biting her lip, just slightly, like she always does when she's worried about something, and he can't blame her because he's just as uncertain as she must be.

Dexter wishes he can say something reassuring in response, but he draws on a blank. The last time he'd seen Hadley so withdrawn from him had been when they were still going out, and that, to be honest, had been ages ago, and he'd forgotten how she could easily immobilize him with just a stare.

Up until now.

"Had," he says her name carefully. "We can't just... not talk about this."

Hadley shifts and turns to face him, a knot of worry settling between her eyebrows. "We didn't mean for it happen, and it doesn't mean anything, but it's us we're talking about. It's us, so we'll be fine, right?"

"Of course," he tells her, but even as he says the words, he can't shake off the uncertainty churning in the pit of his stomach. He pushes himself up in a sitting position. Then, in a firmer voice, he says, "Of course, we're fine."

"So we'll just forget all this," she says, "right?"

Dexter looks at her for a second before letting his gaze fall back to his hands. "If that's what you want."

Hadley's shoulders visibly relax. She turns away, clutching the white sheet to herself, and makes a move to stand up. "I'll shower first, so cover up or something because I can't seem to find my clothes and I'm taking this blanket with me."

"I think they're downstairs," Dex tells her, unable to stop his lips from quirking up in a mischievous smile despite himself. "You couldn't wait to get them off."

She grabs one of his pillows and hits him in the face, but even so, she isn't nearly fast enough to keep him from seeing the blush spreading across her cheeks. "If I remember correctly, you weren't so patient yourself."

He laughs, grabbing the pillow off his face. "Neither were you. In fact, I remember you accidentally ripping two buttons off my shirt when you--"

"Oh, god."

"--pulled it open and--"

She takes another pillow and swings it at him. He catches it before it can hit him and she lets go, scowling at him. "You've made your point, so please, please, please stop."

"Funny. I recall you telling me not to stop last night when I did that thing with--"

"Oh, for god's sake," she snaps, pulling the blanket so abruptly Dex had to think fast and use the pillow he was holding to cover himself up. He watches as she wraps it around herself, careful not to let it slide off as she stands.

"What's the rush?"

"Can you really blame me for wanting to rid my body of all traces of you as soon as possible?" She turns away and walks towards his bathroom, all blankets and messy blonde hair.

"Sure you don't want to me scrub your back?" he yells after her, but she merely gives him a warning look before slamming the bathroom door close. "I was just being nice. No need to be rude!"

The door opens slightly, just enough for Hadley to stick out her hand and give him the finger.

Dexter laughs. "Love you, too!"

* * * * *

Just like that, Hadley's up and leaving, dressed in last night's clothes and hair still dripping wet. She doesn't even stay for breakfast. Not that Dexter can prepare breakfast without burning the kitchen down, though she usually stays for some cereal. (In fact, Dexter makes sure they always have Hadley's favorite cereal in their cupboard, even though no one in his family ever eats it.)

Dexter can't really blame Hadley though. Today's a Saturday and ever since her grandmother fell and broke her hip two weeks ago, her mom had talked her into helping out until Nana gets better.

He volunteered to help out too, but Had's mom refused to let him work without compensation, so instead they insisted on officially hiring him. Dexter thought it wouldn't be such a bad idea to save up before leaving for college and for him to spend the summer with Hadley and get free candy while he's at it.

Normally, he would have tagged along with her to the shop, even though he doesn't start working until next week, but his mom was coming home from her trip today, and he had two weeks' worth of laundry to do in one day. His mom had asked him to get it done, like, six days ago, and of course he's done absolutely nothing about it since then.

He's barely even halfway done with the first batch when Adrian comes bounding into the small laundry room a couple hours later, smelling of stale cigarettes and booze, like he always does when he comes home from one of his gigs.

"What're we having for lunch?" Adrian asks him, leaning back against the washing machine with a lazy smile on his face

"Oh, I don't know, Adrian. What do you want, charred pork or charred beef?"

His older brother rolls his eyes. "I'll order Chinese."

"Wait. Are you sure you don't want charred chicken instead?"

"Maybe toss in some undercooked potatoes and we're all set."

Dexter grins. "Chinese sounds good to me."

"I'll get the usual," his older brother replies, pushing himself off the washing machine, which had now started vibrating as the spindry process begins. "Is Hadley coming over?"

Dexter shakes his head and drops his gaze, still having difficulty processing the thought of Hadley and of what happened between them last night. "She was just here."

Adrian clicks his tongue. "Damn. Can't believe I missed the love of my life."

Dexter knows his brother doesn't really mean it (Adrian always did like teasing Hadley ever since he first met her), so he simply says, "That's very convincing, considering you have a hickey the size of Texas on your neck."

His brother grins, a hand automatically reaching for the relatively large area of darkened skin right below his jaw. "You're just jealous I'm getting some action and you're not."

"We'll see who gets the last laugh when you're finally diagnosed with herpes."

Adrian merely laughs and turns towards the door, saying he'll place the order and crash on the couch.

"Just wake me up when the food's here," he says and leaves without waiting for a response.

Dexter isn't really a big fan of his brother's music, but apparently, a lot of people are, and so the Seismic Fuse eventually managed to get a regular gig every Friday in this relatively large bar two towns over. Dexter's only been to two of their shows: on the first one and then on the night he introduced Hadley to Adrian.

Adrian rarely goes home after their gigs. He either crashes at their drummer Levi's place or at some poor girl's nearby apartment. As far as Dexter knows, it's never the same girl.

And not that Dexter really cares about his brother "getting more action" than him, but what Adrian doesn't know is that that morning, he, too, has a kiss mark roughly the same size somewhere on his collarbone, just barely hidden by the collar of his white shirt, and this aforementioned kiss mark was given by none other than the "love" of Adrian's life.

God.

Dexter heaves a deep breath and shakes his head, as if that would clear his thoughts. It doesn't.

After all, he knows there's only one way for him to actually make sense of this mess: He needs to talk to his best friend.

But his best friend happens to be Hadley herself, and if there's one thing he's certain about in all this confusion, it's that she's the last person on earth who would ever want to talk about what happened.

* * * * *

"We need more ribbons," Hadley announces, leaning sideways against the doorframe of the stockroom, where her mother sits with a pile of papers sprawled out on the desk in front of her.

The older woman looks up, shoving her reading glasses up to look at Hadley. "Ribbons?"

"For the repackaged assortments," Hadley says.

"Ask your kuya to buy some."

Hadley bites the inside of her cheeks, but doesn't say anything before turning to leave.

When she gets back to the counter, however, she takes her phone out of her pocket and texts Dexter instead, because Taylor had just messaged her half an hour ago, asking her to cover for him because he's terribly hungover and he won't be able to drive home.

As usual, it's Dexter she finds herself turning to, but her fingers freeze just when she's about to hit send.

What happened last night was a mistake. Her mistake. She doesn't blame Dexter for any part of it because she was the one who came knocking at his door, and she was the one who kissed him first.

The relief she felt when Dexter agreed to forget about the whole thing was overwhelming, and when he didn't push the topic any further, she was grateful. It was a mistake, but it already happened and she would rather not dwell on things neither of them could change.

That's why she doesn't understand why she's hesitating now. She was the one who insisted on keeping things between them normal, so why was she the one acting weird?

Stupid.

They're fine. She and Dexter are fine, because it's them, and they've never really been like most people, so something like this can't possibly ruin them. She hits send and slips her phone back into her pocket, retying her ponytail before turning back to the task at hand.

Her father whipped up this new flavor that didn't sell well two weeks back, and in an attempt to get people to buy them, she came up with the suggestion to mix them in with an assortment of other candies. Now piles of candies litter the counter, waiting to be repackaged in these tiny clear plastic bags, which would then be sealed off with some ribbon.

Forty minutes later, the glass door swings open. A pair of middle school girls come in, giggling sheepishly as they thank the guy holding the door open for them. It's Dexter, who must have arrived just as the customers did. His hair is sticking up in all directions, a telltale sign that he must have used Adrian's motorcycle without an helmet again.

The girls immediately move towards the aisle holding their bestseller--this Filipino delicacy that brought her mom and dad together in the first place--casting surreptitious glances at Dexter's direction.

He's oblivious to this, of course. He simply lets the door swing shut behind him before making his way to her.

For a moment, Hadley's shoulders tense up, images of the previous night slipping into her thoughts against her will, but Dexter grins when their eyes meet, just like he always does, and the sight eases the knots in her stomach.

He sets a roll of light blue ribbon beside the bowl of lollipops on the counter, along with a brown paper bag that must have come from Coffee Overdose.

"Am I getting paid for this?" he asks.

"I could tell Ma to--"

"I'm kidding," he says, not bothering to hide his amusement. "I don't start till next week anyway. Besides"--he gives her a small wink--"I'd do anything for free if it's for you."

"Really, now?"

"Nothing less for my favorite girl."

She raises an eyebrow, fighting the urge to smile. "Favorite? That would imply there actually are other girls aside from me in your life."

Of course, she's only teasing him. There actually are a number of girls around him, though none are admittedly as close to him as she is.

Dexter doesn't point this out, though. Instead he merely shrugs and says, "What can I do? You scare them away."

"Can't risk losing my spot as your favorite girl now, can I?"

"Oh, sweetheart." He braces his hands against the counter, leaning closer with a little smirk on his face. "That's the last thing you have to worry about."

"I know," she replies. "You love me too much."

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and ducks his head, his face taking on a mock somber expression. "It's a curse."

She picks up a plastic-wrapped mint and flicks it at him.

He easily catches it (of course he does) and holds it up over his head, a grin nearly splitting his face in two. "No need to give me free candy, honey. I already know you love me just as much."

And it's this, really, that Hadley can't risk to lose, especially not over some stupid, drunken mistake. Dexter is far too important to her. He's her best friend--the only person in her life who actually, truly gets her, and nothing's going to change that.

Not even the fact that she still has feelings for him.