I Just Want to Save You

Title: "I Just Want To Save You"
Authors: Abby and Simon Vaughn
Genre: BVB fan-fiction; teenage Andley.
Rating: T 
Chapter: 2/???
Summary: Andy believes his boyfriend is dead. Now he doesn't know what to do with himself.
Disclaimer: If this is real, then I'm a rainbow octopus.  
--

(Andy's POV)

The day after the funeral, nothing really changed. I still received sympathy and reassurance from other people, but I was growing sick of it. 

I didn't need all that "You'll be okay" bullshit.
No. I will not be o-fucking-kay.
The love of my life was taken away from me with just the mere tipping of a booze bottle.

After a while of thinking, I made the decision to move out. Start a new life somewhere else. I couldn't stay here, the memories would haunt me forever if I did. I needed to leave it all behind, even though it hurt. 

I had to forget.
Forget about my life here.
Forget about my friends.
Forget about Jinxx, Jake, CC. . .

Forget about Ashley.

I kept myself occupied with packing cardboard boxes of all my belongings and everything else near and dear to me. Though I tried to avoid anything that reminded me of, or involved my relationship with Ashley Purdy.

But I spoke too soon.
I took out an old Converse box from the back of my closet, a post-it note was there that had a heart drawn on it, the initials of Ashley and I were inside. 
I choked up and opened it, then the tears came.
The box was filled to the brim with pictures of us.

I took one of them out. 
Ashley was kissing my cheek with a smile and I had my face scrunched up.
I found myself laughing a bit through my tears. It was too cute to throw out, in fact, none of them deserved that. 
I set the box aside.
Definitely keeping it.
Even if he's gone, I can still treasure the good times we had together. 

After a few more hours of packing, I began to doubt my decision. Was it right? Would it be for the best or was I just being selfish? 

I shook my head, looking at the clock.
It was after 8:30 but I was exhausted.

I decided to sleep on it and crawled into bed, curling up in a ball.
I held a soft hoodie in my hand, the smell of Axe body spray still lingering in its fibers since I had never washed it.
I hugged it close to my chest, breathing in the smell that made me feel secure and loved again.

Because it was Ashley's.  

I dozed off into an uneasy sleep, but only to be assaulted with nightmares that eventually jolted me awake in a cold sweat and tears. 

I wiped my eyes and sat upright. 
It was almost eleven o'clock.

Then there was a knock at my door.

Skeptical, but curious, I got up and slowly went downstairs. I stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath. I wasn't expecting anyone, and I didn't dare get my hopes up.

I opened the door and my jaw nearly hit the ground.

My beautiful, beautiful Ashley was standing there.

I stood silently for a while, mouth agape and my blue eyes wide. He couldn't possibly be here, I had to be hallucinating. This was ridiculous. He was dead, I saw him in the casket and I watches him buried.
He. Isn't. Fucking. Alive. 

Without another thought about it, I gazed up at him. I wanted to pull him in, hug him, kiss him, tell him how much I've missed having him home with me during the day, and in my bed at night.
But I couldn't. 
If he was really alive, that means he had lied to me. Shocker there.

I slammed the door shut.   
--

(Ashley's POV)

Oh my god.
Andy just... he slammed the door in my face.
I fucking knew I made the wrong choice.

But I wasn't giving up that easily.
I knocked on the door again. No answer. I kept knocking for five straight minutes and he still didn't answer the fucking door. I started to call out his name. "Andy?" I said with a normal speaking voice, just in case he had been near the door.
A few seconds later, he opened the door.

"Ashley, I--"

"No, I have to explain everything, Andy. I know I messed up again. Badly. But you just need to let me explain."

He closed his eyes for a minute; it seemed like he was thinking whether or not I was even worth his time anymore. But finally, he spoke. "Fine. Come on in."

I let out a relieved sigh, stepping into his house, the house that I missed so much.
"Andy, I did this for you."

"What?" He asked, seeming genuinely confused, but angry at the same time.

"I faked everything for you. And I know it was a huge mistake."

"How the hell did you do this for me?"

"I did it because I never thought I was good enough for you. Because I was almost always drunk off my ass or asleep. I've lied, cheated, hit you, all stupid mistakes that made me just hate myself even more, especially since I was drunk when I did it. I did it because your parents are homophobic and I wanted to protect you. I wanted them to be able to accept you. But I can't live without you Andy. I know I hurt you before, many, many times, and never truly apologized, but Andy, this apology is true. I haven't been drunk since it all happened, and I had some time to think. About everything. About my mistakes and my shitty apologies that went with them. But this apology isn't like that. It's a true apology for a /huge/ mistake. Andy, please forgive me. I love you."