My eyes flutter open the next morning and I roll over, expecting to see Archer lying next to me but all I see is an empty bed. My eyes furrow as I sit up, squinting as my eyes adjust to the sunlight shining in through the window.

I stretch my legs as my eyes lazily scan the room. He's definitely not in here. I think back to last night and how he climbed into my bed in the middle of the night. Was I dreaming? Placing my head in my hands, I groan. I must have been dreaming. There's no way he did that when he was so angry with me the night before. Damn me and my realistic dreams.

I yank the duvet off of me to get up. Instead, my door swings open and I freeze. I gape at Archer as he pads across my room, choosing to sit at my desk.

"I was thinking we could go somewhere today." He states plainly.

I don't respond. His wet hair lies flat over his forehead and stray water droplets drip down his cheeks. He smirks at my lack of words. I gulp as my gaze travels further down to his chiselled abs to the towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

"Have I rendered you speechless, Madison Roberts?" He teases.

His voice brings me out of the daze I was in causing me to blush. "What did you say?"

"I said we should go somewhere." His deep chuckle rumbles through me. Butterflies stir in my stomach.

I run my fingers through my hair to untangle some of the knots. I'm sure I look crazy right now. The same can't be said for him though. "Together?" I ask, hope evident in my voice.

"Who else would I go with?" He grins ear to ear.

Excitement bubbles within me and I try my hardest to keep from squealing like a child. "Like a date?"

He scratches his neck uncomfortably, a blush spreading across his cheeks, staining them a light shade of pink. "If you want to call it that." He shrugs nonchalantly but I can see his true emotions in his eyes. He's excited too.

My smile grows. "Where are you taking me?"

"Wherever you want to go." He tells me with a shrug of his shoulders.

I jump up off of the comfort of my bed and grab his arm, pulling him towards the door. "I need to get changed." I let go of him once he's in the hallway. A pout makes his way onto his lips and I roll my eyes.

"Can't I stay and watch?" He wiggles his eyebrows with a playful wink.

"You wish." I giggle before shutting the door in his face. I can picture him groaning with disappointment. I rest my head against the door unable to wipe the smile off my face. It was real.

*

We hop off Archer's motorcycle and leave our helmets on the seat. It feels strange how far I've come over the past couple of months. When I first got here, I was mortified to be on the back of a motorcycle, it was something that I never imagined myself doing. Now, I enjoy being so close to Archer and having the wind blow through my hair. It feels like freedom.

"Why did you want to come to this random street?" He eyes it suspiciously.

I place my hand on his and drag him to where I know it is, stopping once the wall comes into view. My hand leaves his causing coldness to seep in from the loss of touch. The electricity leaves along with the warmth of his fingertips. "This is why."

I step back so I can see the entirety of the wall. Once it was plain brick, no one would look at it, but now it's something that people travel to see. You can no longer see the ordinary bricks underneath, every inch of it's covered with graffiti.

There's a feather, a guitar, a wave on the left, a rose on the right. There are tons of different types of art on this wall. There's even a landscape of a forest at the top.

It feels weird seeing this in person. This was one of the places that my mum and I vowed we would come to one day. We printed out a photograph of this exact wall and stuck it in our scrapbook. It's a shame I didn't bring the book with me. I left it at home with my dad.

I gaze at it in awe. "This was one of the places my mum wanted to take me to."

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

"Hey," I shove him with my shoulder playfully. "It's art, appreciate it."

He stuffs his hands into his pockets with a huff. "Fine."

I cross my arms against my chest and turn to Archer. His lips are pursed into a line and I can't help but roll my eyes. "You were the one who said we could do whatever I wanted." I remind him. My heart still jumps in my chest at my words.

"You're right," he starts, and I smile gratefully. "If you want to admire a wall then so be it."

I snort incredibly unattractively. "You make it sound stupid."

"You said it, not me." He holds his hands up in surrender, a smirk plastered across his face.

I shake my head in amusement before returning my focus to the graffiti. I wonder how long it took someone to do this. It must have taken a while. I can picture them now in their white overalls splattered with pain, climbing on a ladder with their paintbrush to reach the top.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I announce.

"It is." He breathes.

I turn to him in shock that he's actually agreed but find him watching me intently not the wall as I was expecting. A blush creeps up my neck and onto my cheeks. He shoots me a grin. Now it's my turn to stuff my hands in my pockets.

"Let's keep walking."

We walk around and pass multiple cafes and bakeries that have delicious looking treats displayed in the windows. I have to do my best to refrain from going in and ordering everything on the menu. We can do that after we've seen this.

We come to a stop at the corner of one of the streets. There's a chalkboard that has 'Portland means to you' written in coloured chalk at the top. Below it, there are spaces for people to answer the question. I laugh at some of the things that people have written. The first one says, 'Portland means drinking here'.

Archer points to it. "They've got that right."

There's a space at the bottom so I suggest we both write something. He doesn't complain like I was expecting him to and instead picks up a piece of chalk and starts writing. Once he's finished, he passes it to me, and I do the same.

I look at what he decided to write. "Partying, seriously?" I chuckle.

"What can I say? I like to party."

He leans closer to the board when his eyes find mine. "Your handwriting's terrible." He states with amusement dancing in his eyes. I shove him gently.

"It's not that bad." I pout. It did take me a lot longer than everyone else to get my pen license in primary, but I still go it. I just had to suffer through being the only kid in-class writing in pencil still for a little while.

"What makes Portland the beginning?" He questions once he determines what I wrote.

"It's only the beginning. It's the first place that I've travelled to so far," is the only thing I say despite meaning more than that. Portland's the beginning of a lot of things. I started my senior year here, I went to my first party, I made my first real friends, I kissed Archer for the first time. There are so many firsts that I've had here. I hope that I can make more memories in the time I have left.

We continue walking for a little while longer until he starts complaining. "Honestly, you lasted longer than I expected you to," I admit.

We pass a bench with an owl painted on it. He sighs in relief before allowing his legs to give way as he slouches onto it. My eyes widen and I rush over to him, dragging him off the bench.

"You can't sit on that, it's art." I scold him, eyeing our surroundings for anyone watching. I don't want them to think we're disrespectful.

He gives me a lopsided grin. "I like it when you're demanding."

"I bet you do." I chastise.

He doesn't listen to me and sits back down anyway. "But benches were made for you to sit on, so I think I'm okay to sit here." He laughs. He beckons for me to do the same and, with those pleading eyes, I give in instantly.

I wipe my hand across the metal just in case it's wet and when I see that it's not, I sit down next to him. "Do you think you could do this?" I ask.

"What?"

"Do you think you could do something like this?" I pat the space between us where the eye of the owl's poking out.

He thinks for a second before answering. "It's a bit too colourful for me."

I should have known that would be his answer. From what I saw, he only draws with a black pencil. There's was no colour on any of his drawings. Of course, they were still amazing though. "Doesn't black and white get boring sometimes?" I voice my thoughts.

He shakes his head slightly. "You don't need colour for art to be good. You just need something to draw with."

I rest my head on his shoulder. It doesn't take long for him to rest his on mine too. My heart flutters slightly and I bite my lip to conceal my beaming smile. "Why do you draw?"

"It's easier to draw what I'm feeling than to say it." He shrugs nonchalantly.

Does that mean that the drawing he did of the shattered clock could mean that he feels he's running out of time? Or maybe time has stopped, and he isn't moving on? The hand coming out of the water, what could that mean? Possibly that he feels like he's drowning. The only things I can think of are all negative and my heart aches for him. Does he feel like this all the time? I think back to the drawing he gave me and can't think of what that one could mean.

"So why did you give me the drawing of the girl on the moon?"

He sighs deeply. "I've always thought the moon was beautiful. It's a light in the darkness. It's magical. I was staring out my window one night and it reminded me of you. Whenever I'm in a dark place I think of you and remind myself that I have someone in my life who brings me joy."

All the air's sucked out of me. I'm taken aback by what he revealed to me. I'm a light in the darkness? I chew on my lip as I take it all in. My smile grows wider, making it even harder to hide.

"You shock me sometimes, Archer Anderson."

He takes my hand in his and starts twisting the ring on my finger. "Listen, about the night at the party, I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." He tells me, an apologetic tone taking over his voice.

Instead of telling him that it's fine and that I've forgiven him, I simply say, "you're right," instead.

He continues to play with my fingers. "I heard that you pissed Levi off."

"How did you hear that?" I raise an eyebrow, awaiting his answer. I didn't think anyone was sober enough to notice and I'm sure Levi wouldn't want to expose himself to everyone.

"Someone saw him leaving the party looking worse than usual."

I think back to when I brought my knee up into his crotch and how he hunched over in pain. For a second, I feel a slight pang of sympathy and regret but only for a second. He deserved it.

"Yeah..." I trail off. I guess I did piss him off.

He intertwines our fingers, and my heart skips a beat. "I know I said somethings I shouldn't have."

I brush the pad of my thumb over his hand. "They're forgotten," I tell him, genuinely meaning it.

"I should have trusted you," I stay silent, and he continues. "Levi's always been an asshole. I should have known that he would do something like this to get back at me." I want to ask him what he means by getting back at him. What did he do to need revenge for? Something tells me that it's more than just the fight.

"The next time I see him, I'm going to kill him."

I sit up and place my hands on either side of his face. "Please don't do that," I beg, knowing that he actually would. He probably wouldn't go as far as that, but he'd definitely get near enough.

"Why shouldn't I? I can't just let him get away with doing that."

"I don't want any drama," I say with a sigh. "If he tries anything again then we can both kill him."

He agrees and we bothlaugh. He places his lips on mine and kisses me gently. I melt into him likeputty in his hands. "Such a badass," he whispers.