Andy, You're A Star

I stood at the counter, staring at the toaster that was heating my Pop Tarts. The house was silent, so silent that I could hear the hum of the red-hot wires inside the toaster, and my own breathing. I woke in my bed this morning with an uneasy feeling. Last night, Oli had given in (or started to, at least) and I thought maybe I was finally getting through to him. We watched movies and he had no problem cuddling up with me, but I must have fallen asleep on the couch downstairs. It wasn’t that I woke up in my bed alone that bothered me, though.

When walked a few paces down the hall to Oli’s room, the door was wide open and his bed was empty. He was gone, that much was obvious, but I didn’t have a clue as to where he might have gone.

And here I stood, staring at the toaster, waiting for my Pop Tarts and wondering what I did wrong. I felt helpless and vulnerable; how was I supposed to win Oliver’s heart if he didn’t feel anything for me anymore? I should have known it was pity that drove him to kiss me last night.

I was so lost in my thoughts that when the toaster sprang the fully heated Pop Tarts, I jumped and a faint shriek passed my lips before I could stop it. My heart was racing and my pulse thundered in my ears as I tried to calm myself and reached for my breakfast. I wasn’t very hungry anymore, but I set the hot pastry’s on the small plate in front of me and walked over to the island anyway. I sat down and spread my fingers out straight on the counter top.

They ached and throbbed and stung, lathered in antibiotic ointment and wrapped in bandages. My eye was swollen shut, the skin puffy and purple with an undertone of green and ribbons of red where the small veins had burst under my skin. I looked like a train wreck, and the sight of it made me cringe when I looked in the mirror this morning.

Try as I may, I couldn’t get my hands to stop trembling and eventually I curled them into loose fists and put them under the counter, and out of my sight. My breath was shaky and I had a hard time suppressing the memories that were trying to force their way out. I failed, and suddenly my hands were clutching the edge of the counter and my eyes were shut so tight that my head pulsed from the effort.

I was there in the woods, and everything was terribly macabre in my memory. The trees looked like they were reaching toward me, trying to warn me of the danger I was putting myself in. The ground sank slightly beneath my weight and the weight that bore down on top of me.

And Cody. Cody looked much more villainous that in reality. His cold eyes stared down at me and his hands were riddled with my blood and his teeth were gleaming white in the darkness. “Andy,” he breathed, and his breath was foul as he leaned his face closer to me. “Andy, Andy….” his voice changed somewhere during the chanting, growing more urgent and more familiar.

And just as quickly as the livid memory sucked me in, I was pulled back. The first thing I took in was my breath coming in fast, sharp gasps. My chest ached and my head swam with the intensity that I was taking air into my lungs. The next thing I noticed was Oliver next to me, saying my name, obviously trying to break my trance. My fingers were bleeding again, the thick red liquid seeping through the bandages and smearing across the counter.

“Andy, look at me,” Oli said, prying my fingers from the island and taking them into his own hands. My eyes felt unnaturally large and wet when I looked from my blood on the counter, to Oliver’s alarmed face. The ache in my chest was soothed immediately, but it took me longer to become somewhat calm.

“Hey, you’re aright, love. It’s okay, I’m here, you’re aright,” he chanted, and then I was crying again. Oli helped me off the stool and wrapped his arms securely around me. I was shaking, but when the front of my body pressed against his, my arms looped around his neck and I was clinging to him, urging him to protect me from everything bad in the world.

“Easy, petal. I’m right here,” his breath was hot against my ear, and I was so overwhelmingly frustrated that I couldn’t get myself any closer to him, that I cried harder. I scarcely noticed when he lifted me off the floor and carried me upstairs and into his room. He shut the door behind him and went to the bed, where he tried to pry me off.

I panicked and held him tighter, desperate to have his safety near me.

“It’s okay, love. I’m not going away. I just need to get a wash cloth for your fingers, okay?”

“No, don’t,” I gasped, burying my face in his shoulder, “don’t leave me, please.” I hated how hopeless I sounded, but I couldn’t manage to calm myself down.

“Aright, okay, I’m staying. How about we lay down, under the covers, get warm, yeah?” he asked, and I nodded, and he pulled the covers of his bed back. Oli held onto my hand while I slid into the bed, and he followed soon after, drawing me into the comfort of his arms and bringing the covers up to our necks.

After that, I cried for a long time, gripping Oli with all of my strength. Once I calmed down a little, I was very tired. I vaguely remember crying out in protest when Oli slid out of bed for a few moment. He gave me a reassuring smile and promised he was just going to the bathroom to get a damp wash cloth. And sure enough, he was back within seconds and tenderly cleaning my bloody fingers. He redid the bandages and held me again until I dozed off into a restlessly sleep.

When I woke again, I wasn’t alone. It was brighter than it was earlier, which was to be expected, but I could hardly focus on the lighting when I heard light breathing behind me. Until then, I hadn’t noticed the arm that was draped across my waist, holding me against my companion.

My good eyelid was swollen from crying and my head felt like it was packed full of soaked cotton balls. My throat was dry and hoarse, and when I breathed in, the air whistled through my windpipe. With my thoughts all jumbled, I couldn’t exactly put my finger on the reason why I had been crying, but I knew it was horrible and that I didn’t want to think of it again, so I focused on those soft, deep breaths.

I could feel them against the back of my neck, each gentle gust of wind warm and comforting. I knew he must have been sleeping, and when Oli is out cold, there was no waking him up. So I chanced it and turned myself as carefully as I could to face him so that I could see his serene face. His lips were parted slightly, and his eyelashes laid on his cheeks like soft, thick blankets.

I moved closer to him, being gentle and trying not to wake him, and his arm tightened around my waist, bringing me against him.

It was the first time that I’d noticed what he was wearing today. I could feel his jeans against my legs as they became tangled together, and though it was shaded by the covers, I made out the dark purple v-neck that I’d seen him wear just once before.

I liked the way v-necks looked on Oli. They showed off his collarbones, and that hollow base at the end of his throat that I loved to press my lips into. And as I thought of it now, I leaned forward and placed a kiss in that dip in his smooth skin, bringing a soft sound from his lips.

His breathing changed, getting deeper and more full as he shifted even closer to me. His socked feet brushed against my bare ones, and his arm looped me to his chest, pressing me against that wonderful dark purple v-neck. It was a lot softer than it seemed, and now my lips hovered just over the edge of one of Oli’s collarbones. I wrapped my mouth around that ridge and grazed his skin very lightly with my teeth.

When I didn’t get a response, I started sucking on his collarbone, feeling him shift again, squirming. I flicked my tongue out, and he gasped quietly, a shudder rippling through his body.

I moved from his collarbone to his throat, placing a cluster of kisses here and there. I felt his throat hum when he groaned quietly.

I nipped his neck lightly, and he jumped a little, but somehow didn’t wake up. I frowned, feeling my eyebrows crush together. His neck was the most sensitive. If that didn’t wake him up, I didn’t know what would.

But then I did know, and a slow smile spread across my face. I gave him a gentle push, and he lolled onto his back with no resistance. He remained sleeping, and I moved myself slowly so that I was straddling his waist. I leaned down, putting my face right in front of his, our lips a fraction of an inch apart, and whispered, “Oli”.

His eyelids twitched very slightly, but that was it.

I pressed my lips to his, and almost instantly I got a response.

“Mmm,” he moaned and kissed me back. After a moment, I pulled away, and whispered, “are you awake?”

“Mmm, am now,” a sleepy grin formed on his face, and I smiled wider, before pressing my lips into his again, more fully this time.

A sound came from low in his throat, and I felt his hands sliding across my thighs and over the swell of my bottom before coming to a stop on my hips.

“Feeling better today?” he asked when we parted.

“Much, thanks to you,” I sighed, kissing him again.

It felt so good to kiss him again. It was like every time our lips touched, a little part of me was put back in place.

“You sure?” he asked again when our lips separated.

“I’ll be fine, Ol. Promise,” I pushed my mouth to his yet again, deeper now.

When we parted this time, we were both a little out of breath.

“For some reason, I don’t really believe you.”

I stared at him for a minute, trying to think of something to say.

“As long as you’re here, I’ll be fine.”

And the instant I spoke those words, I believed them.

I connected our lips once more, and they stayed that way until a very disgruntled Tom walked in.