A blaring klaxon. Cain jumped out of his skin, scrabbling for the remote to kill the volume. The screaming commentator dwindled to nothing as some TV competitor flung himself and his bulging muscles at a rolling log.

Hadn’t he been watching a murder mystery? What time was it? His head ached, pulse knocking against his skull like an echo. His limbs struggled as he twisted over on the sofa to grab his phone, but just that short movement put a lurch through his gut. Ella’s name lit up the screen below the time reading three in the morning, and the whole evening came back to him.

God, he’d made a fool of himself.

With a leaden knot sitting heavy in his rolling stomach, Cain unlocked the phone. Better see what she said then.

I thought you finished the wine? You’re dreadful!! Is that the first time you’ve ever used that heart? I’m surprised you knew it was there.

Ouch. Nice to know what she thought of him. The wink at the end didn’t do much to soften it. A few minutes later, she’d sent, I guess you’ve nodded off. Wine and H do that to you, huh

And really it had only been a few minutes. God, the expectations were rock bottom, weren’t they?

Last, about thirty minutes ago, she’d sent: I finally got Jack to bed. Let me know you’re alright when you wake up, okay?

A text just like she cared. Laughing, Cain pressed the phone against his forehead, but even that movement made it spin. His stomach lurched, and this time he made a run for the bathroom as his throat convulsed. Just in time to vomit into the toilet.

A few minutes of retching and moaning as his stomach tied itself in knots later, Cain got himself under control enough to get back up. God, that would be the bottle of wine. Once he’d washed the sweat and bile from his face and brushed his teeth, he picked his phone up, heart fluttering anew as he read her message, and tapped out a reply.

All good here. Are you alright? Need a lift anywhere?

His phone vibrated in his hand as he trudged out of the bathroom, back to the lounge.

I don’t think you should be driving anyone anywhere! And Cain could hardly disagree after re-reading the message he’d sent, rife with nonsensical spelling errors. I’m okay though. Me and Jack are at mine.

Jack at hers. Not really what he wanted to hear. She’d be curled up in bed beside him now, and his stomach twisted anew thinking of what they might have been doing, but at least she was in bed beside Jack texting him.

Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.

And sorry for the messy texts.

Nothing came through for a few minutes while Cain cooked another hit to take to bed with him. Only once he’d Cain sat down on the edge of his bed and tugged off his shirt and slacks. The little typing bubble pop up and disappear a couple of times before her message appeared.

Don’t worry about it. You should get some sleep.

I’m planning on it. You should too. Then he hesitated before pressing send. He had an excuse to ask to see her now, but was tomorrow evening too soon? Fuck it. He’d already made a twat of himself. Are you free tomorrow evening to make some progress on this party stuff? Nodding Cain lied about the wine – half a bottle left.

And sober Cain lied about that, but he could always get another.

Her reply came so quickly she must have been watching him type his, and as if that wasn’t enough to have him smiling, the content certainly was. I’m free! Six` is with Jack tomorrow so nothing to keep me away from that wine this time. See you at six?

Cain smirked, tapping at the side of the phone as he thought up his reply. Levi with Jack. Hadn’t that been a brilliant idea? Setting up the sort of job for the two of them Levi could never refuse. Hopefully the worm wouldn’t throw a tantrum and ruin it, because this was essential to Cain’s grand plan.

Seven, he typed. Doubt I’m going to get started on work early tomorrow.

Okay, seven it is. You better not be late or we’re going to have to have another intervention about you working too hard!!!

As if he’d ever be late for her. In fact… Cain slipped under the covers as he typed his reply. Go on, make it six. God help me if I have to sit through another one of Levi’s ‘interventions’.

Ella sent three grinning faces in reply. What did he say back to that? Was that her ending the conversation? He was about to send a goodnight and leave it when the typing bubble popped up again, only for a second, and then it disappeared for long enough that Cain thought she’d decided not to send anything before her message finally came through.

Are you in bed now?

His heart gave a squeeze. Why? Yes, why? Far too quick on the response, but his mind hadn’t caught up by the time he’d sent it.

Just making sure. You sleep on the sofa too much, it’s bad for your back!

Well she picked her ways to make bloody sure, didn’t she? Cain rubbed his hand over his face and sunk deeper into the mattress. I already did my time on the sofa earlier, don’t worry.

Ella sent a laughing face, then straight after, You shouldn’t do any time on the sofa! Get some sleep, Kitty, I’ll see you tomorrow.

Kitty. God, it was unbearably patronising. Cain shook his head, smiling, as he replied. You too. I’ll try to brainstorm some ideas for tomorrow. Goodnight, Ella.

Before he sent it, he hovered his thumb over the x key for a while. Say fuck it and add it, or had he already pushed it too far with that stupid heart? The only thing worse than this unrequited misery would be seeing the knowledge of it in her eyes, feeling the pity as she talked to him.

Cain sent it without adding the kiss and flicked the light off, squinting against the glare of his phone screen in the darkness. He should put it down, but he knew he’d have to check it when the message eventually came through anyway.

The typing bubble came up straight away, then flickered on and off in short bursts like she kept re-writing something. Cain’s eyes kept drooping, but he fought to keep them open and tapped his screen to brighten it up again when it dimmed.

Then the message came through. I can’t wait, and I will. Sleep well, Cain, sweet dreams.

And then on the end, a vivid red heart.

Cain locked his phone before he did anything stupid, and his chest ached as he pressed his phone against it, curled around it like it was any substitute for her but god that message almost was. A bloody stupid heart. Cain laughed, idiotic grin stretching his cheeks so wide it hurt. A heart. What if it wasn’t just him? What if she was right here too, beaming at her phone in the dark?

This time the hit put white noise knotting in his throat, baking his brain out to a sweet-laced nirvana. Reality infiltrated his psychedelic nothingness, but the dreams washed over him with idealistic perfection.

No messy tension in his chest, only this suave, charming Cain, the way he should be. Ella’s feet slung in his lap and Cain wrapped his hand around one of her ankles, ran his thumb over the arch, and she shivered, that coy smile on her lips.

“You always sit so far away, Cain,” she said. “What’s wrong with over here?”

And Cain lifted her leg up, fingers skittering over her calf now, down her thigh as he rested his lips against her ankle, eyes fixed on hers. “I can’t see you so well over there, Ella, not all of you looking so lovely like this.”

A sigh slipped her lips, happy and content, and she rubbed her toes across Cain’s cheek. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always, my sweet.” And he smiled, because he knew what it would be.

And on the dreams of those fantasy words and what followed them, Cain drifted into sleep.