"I'll do it." My lips were already used to having to say those words after endlessly saying them over the past three days.

I studied Nancy, who had in the time it took me to shower, managed to get up from the couch where I had left her and started boiling water in a pot. An array of other things were on the counter along with an opened pack of ramen noodles.

Standing there wearing a pair of grey sweats and a black T-shirt with the words 'I'm just a T-shirt' in bold red lettering, a pair of chopsticks in hand, she looked at me with guilt like she'd just been caught with the crown jewel of England in hand. I couldn't help but think that right then, she looked the most relaxed that she'd been in the past three years.

"I can handle it, Krystal," she replied just as she had done ever since she'd been back from the hospital.

After a couple more checkups the day after her fainting spell, she'd been discharged with the doctor telling me to lighten her workload for the next week or so and to simply make sure she was eating and sleeping properly.

Nancy had no intention of course of following through with those. She had even expected to go back to the bakery she worked at the next day.

It took a phone call to her boss, a cup of coffee and a fifteen minute conversation where I might have guilt-tripped her before she agreed on taking a week break from work.

"No," I said whilst shaking my head for emphasis, the towel over my soaked hair almost fell off. "I'll do it."

I went around the island over to her side and took the chopsticks out of her hand just as I saw that the water was already boiling. "You could've told me you wanted some ramen before I went to shower. I could've handled it." As I said this I was already pushing her back to the other side of the island where I told her to sit at one of the stools there.

Nancy shot me a skeptic look which I caught. I smiled at her to reassure her that she had nothing to worry about.

"I can handle making a pot of ramen," I said with an air of mock hurt at her distrust in my skills in the kitchen. "It's just water and a packet of ramen noodles. How hard can it be right?" I said even as I tried to rip the packet open.

I could almost feel Nancy appraising me like a person watching a baboon staring at a beach ball with apprehension.

My skills in the kitchen are at best a three out ten. I can make toast, if you like it on the burnt side that is, put PB&J on it before giving it to you. What I can't do though is use a stove, or anything else. Usually it resulted in the fire alarm going off. The fire department didn't like me very much the last time they had to come over.

The last three days we'd ordered in an array of takeaway, after I stopped Nancy from going near the kitchen and we both silently agreed I shouldn't either. But how hard can it be right, especially now that she'd already boiled the water and everything was ready?

Five minutes later, I concluded that I should either be so rich that I hired a personal chef to cook for me or resign myself to a life of takeaways and frozen foods.

The noodles were so soggy that they resembled gigantic earthworms in a watered down red soup with roughly chopped onions and even as I placed the bowl in front of Nancy, I was smiling at her awkwardly.

RIP Ramen, I thought.

Nancy was either sympathetic to my lack of culinary skills or she was just starving for anything home cooked because she dug into the bowl with joy that didn't fit the state of the ramen.

"Thanks Krys," she said a couple of minutes later as she pushed the empty bowl towards me. "That was good."

I nodded along skeptically. She must've really wanted something home-cooked.

"So..." I sat down on the couch next to her after cleaning up in the kitchen, "what are we watching?" I stared at the screen as a young Leonardo DiCaprio appeared on the screen. Instantly I realized it was Titanic.

I felt a wave of sadness tug at me as I stared at the screen.

Mom had made me watch every one of Leonardo DiCaprio's movies, save for one. We never did watch The Great Gatsby. It was the movie she had been looking forward to throughout the entire year. Dad had even said once that he was getting a little jealous over mom's crush on Leonardo DiCaprio.

We hadn't gone to watch it in the end because they had their accident the year before the movie came out. I still hadn't watched it. I couldn't bring myself to do so. I knew without a doubt that I couldn't sit through the thing without a flood of tears breaking out.

Nancy said something, and I couldn't really make sense of what she said but I guessed it was her replying to my question.

The famous scene where Leo had his arms around Kate's waist as she spread out her arms just moments before the tragic iceberg incident was playing out. I remember mom always giggling out loud like a teenage girl at that scene saying how she wished she was in Kate's shoes just for that moment.

Just as I was about to excuse myself from having to watch the movie anymore, the doorbell rang.

I was on my feet and halfway to the door before Nancy could even pull her gaze off the screen to question who if was at the door.

I shrugged in answer as I rushed to the door and pulled it open before any qualms of an axe murderer being at the door hit me.

"Douglas?" the shock laced within my voice resounded in the apartment and I wouldn't be surprised if the entire building heard me.

Douglas stood with his fingers inches from the doorbell as if he was just about to ring it again.

He wore a white Henley and black washed out jeans paired with combat boots. His hair was messy and wet. In fact, his shirt was wet as if he'd been spending some quality time in the rain. In his right hand were several plastic bags.

"Hey Krys," he replied as his eyes met mine. They lit up as if there was some repressed joy within them and held a tinge of worry as his eyes darted into the house.

"Why are you here?" I couldn't hide the confusion nor the bluntness of my tone.

Douglas looked a little taken aback at my curtness. "I brought some get well soon gifts," he replied after a moment as he held up the plastic bags in his hand.

I bit my lower lip, a little bit perplexed by his attitude. The way he was behaving was usually how you acted with your closest friends. We were friendly enough for the past couple of weeks, but nothing that could be considered that of best of friends.

Just as I was about to vocalise my thoughts, Nancy's voice cuts through the awkward atmosphere, "Let the boy in, Krys. It's not like he's hiding any explosives in those bags."

My face reddenned, ashamed at having been admonished by Nancy before I nodded and let Douglas in.

I took my time closing the door, composing myself before I walked into the living room.

What I saw there was completely surreal.

Douglas sat on the armchair across from Nancy and they were already laughing about something. If I didn't know better, I would've concluded that it was at my expense.

The other thing that made the entire scene completely surreal was that Douglas was there, in my home, just being so normal. It was like having the Queen over for tea.

Okay, maybe not that extreme, but it was still surreal. Douglas didn't belong in this setting.

He didn't belong in my house, a quaint, simple one. He belonged in a mansion as grandiose as his own. He didn't belong in this setting, visiting Nancy because he knew someone like me. Instead, he belonged somewhere, shopping at high end places with someone like Georgia next to him.

Titanic was still playing in the background, but I could see Nancy had put it on mute now, so all you could see was people running around in chaos with nothing but Douglas'deep throaty laughter to soundtrack their impending doom.

I sat next to Nancy again just as Douglas began relaying a story about how Dylan and him had crashed a snow mobile in the Alps five years ago because they were racing.

Their conversation continued without me butting in for nearly thirty minutes before Douglas turned his questions to me.

"My dad was wondering if you're okay with the changes he suggested to the guest list?" Douglas' brows were furrowed together, his eyes searching my own as if he had been debating a while over asking for question.

"I'm okay with them," I replied so seamlessly and with no hesitation. Over the past three days, I had warmed to the idea. "Tell him thanks for me."

Douglas nodded along. "Georgia was wondering if you'd like to go shopping with her sometime. I told her not to call you because you needed some time with Nancy, but she demanded I let you know."

"Sure thing. I'll be glad to." I hadn't seen her or talked to her since Nancy's incident. "She didn't want to come along?"

"She wanted to," he began before pausing, for a short while he watched me before he continued, "but I thought she shouldn't."

"Why?"

"I..." he shrugged. "You know how she can be overwhelming sometimes. I didn't think it would be good for Nancy."

"How about Will?" He had to meet up with some friends.

I nodded, remembering that Will and I hadn't really talked since that day too. That day that I told him that there would be no us.

Soon after Nancy engaged him in conversation again and I couldn't help but watch him as he recounted some stories that basically no one would have thought Douglas Burns would have.

Everyone saw him as the spoiled, rich playboy that liked to ruin sports cars and run around partying until the early hours of the morning. Everyone saw what the media painted him as.

No one saw the guy who had discovered his mother's body at a tender age. No one saw the Douglas Burns liked to give his dog coffee, like to teach clueless girls how to surf or the Douglas that like to read classics like the Great Gatsby.

I got so lost in staring at Douglas that I didn't realize that he was staring back at me.

His face was devoid of any amused smirks, or playful smiles. He was staring back at me as if he was trying to decipher my inner thoughts, know what I was thinking, decipher me.

After fully coming back to myself to realize that I've just been caught ogling him, I pull my gaze off of him and cast a gaze towards Nancy, who just so happened to not be there.

Douglas must've noticed my confusion because he said, "Nancy said that she needed to lie down a little bit. She said her goodbyes already."

I nodded slowly, realizing that now I was stuck with him, alone in my house with no place to hide, and having just been caught ogling him. Not in my top ten of my list of things I wanted to spend my Tuesday's doing.

"Krys, I-"

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" the words slipped out before I could stop them. I had only been thinking them, but something involuntarily made me vocalise them.

Douglas lips thinned instantly, his brows frowned over. "Can't wait to get rid of me, can you?"

I chewed my lip again, just as I always did when I was nervous. I did that a lot lately, because frankly, Douglas Burns made me nervous.

"You did come here to drop off get well gifts and you already paid a visit to Nancy, so I really don't know why you're still here." I watched his expression after having told him the obvious.

After a tense couple of seconds he nodded slowly, before he got up from the armchair. "You're right," he said. "I did."

I stood up hesitantly. He towered over me easily with his towering height.

We stood like that for a couple more seconds before he made his way towards the front door.

He opened the door and I contemplated whether I should apologize for my somewhat bitchy attitude towards him, but before I could decide anything, his voice cuts through my thoughts.

"But that's not all I came for," he began, turning around to face me. I stepped back because we were too close for any functionality to come off my brain.

I stated at him, waiting for him to continue.

Douglas gave me a half-smile, the type you usually gave to kids when they said they couldn't wait for Santa to bring them gifts for being a good kid the whole year. The kind of smile you gave them because you knew they just weren't ready for the truth.

After what felt like forever he finally said, "I also wanted to make sure if you were okay."

His words shook me and left me speechless.

He stood there for what was seconds, but felt like minutes with no end in sight, waiting for me to react. But I didn't.

I remained silent.

Even when he turned back around and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.