Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide/depression 

On his day off, Andy took Remington the ice rink. He felt better knowing that he could at least take Remington places that he'd enjoy, but seeing him so obedient to everything he said, even suggestions, made his regret deeper. Remington was still worried he'd become violent like those on the news.

He was loosening up and talking more than he had at first, but he was still cautious. Andy wondered if somehow he was giving off signs that he might soon attack him, but he had been so careful to say the right things and keep his distance, he didn't understand what he might have been doing wrong. 

The following day, he had a meeting with all the store managers through a video call to take their monthly profits and to check everything was going smoothly.

At home that evening, he took the second dose of his medication before knocking on Remington's door to tell him there was food, and Remington answered in an unzipped dress, said, "Dinner?" and Andy smiled and nodded. "Can you do it? It's stuck." 

The zip was on the side, not the back, and Andy saw that there was a thread tangled between the teeth, and after some time fiddling, managed to free it and pull the zipper upwards. "Perfect," he said. "Fits you perfectly." 

Remington was watching his hands. "Yes. It does. It feels so nice." He looked down at himself, at the dress which was snug around his waist. 

"You suit it." 

"Thank you." 

Andy hummed. "You tried them all yet?" 

"Nope. You gave me so many." 

"I'm glad you like them." 

They ate together in the dining room, Dayna greeting them as she came to do her one hour of cleaning. "What book are you reading at the moment?" Andy asked Remington. "You go through them like water. It's very impressive. My ADHD makes it impossible to focus for that long on one thing, I hardly ever get through a book." 

"Gone Girl." 

"Oh, I've heard a lot about that one. It's supposed to have a really shocking twist." 

"Yeah, I just got to it. I had to put the book down and stare at the wall for ten minutes after." 

"Blimey." 

"Truly life changing." 

"Maybe I'll give it a go once you've finished." Andy re-filled both their glasses with the non-alcoholic wine. "Apart from reading, what do you do while I'm at work?" 

"Not much. I listen to the vinyls a lot. And I watch Netflix and stuff on the laptop you gave me, too." 

"You not get bored?" 

What's the right answer to that? Yes? No? I don't know? "Not really." 

Andy hummed, unconvinced. "It's just, I think I remember you saying you liked singing, and if you're interested, I can buy you a microphone and whatever else. I don't know what exactly you're into." 

"Really?"

"Sure. Or you can buy it yourself. The card I gave you should have plenty in it, so go crazy." 

"Oh, thanks." 

"And those dresses you helped me with are being made in the factory right now. They'll send me the first as they always do, so I can check it's as I want. You can try them on, if you want. It'll be good to see them on someone. The sizing should be right." He sipped his drink. "In fact, what do you think about modelling?" 

Remington lifted his eyes to Andy's. 

"It's just an idea, I literally just thought of it right now. We have models, of course, for the website, but we're always looking for more, and seeing you in the dresses has made me realise how - putting it bluntly - how bland some of out current models are. I think you'd raise our sales." 

"You do?" 

"Alright, again, excuse my bluntness, but you're beautiful in a way that not many people are, and people are more likely to buy an outfit that's modelled by someone beautiful. The same way you're more likely to buy a car if it's advertised by a famous driver. Or toothpaste that's recommended by a dentist." 

Then why don't you do it? You're fucking gorgeous, hello?! 

"I realise it sounds a little derogatory of me to suggest it, please tell me if it's making you uncomfortable." 

"No, I...I didn't think I was so..." 

"Beautiful?" 

Remington nodded. 

"Believe me, you are." 

"Oh. Thank you." 

Andy smiled. "Anyway, it's just an idea. It would give you something to do, if you're getting bored." 

"What would it involve?" 

"You'd just be photographed in different outfits, probably with makeup to match, and then you can keep the clothes after. Our photographers are very nice, they'll help you if you're camera-shy and you can pretty much pose how you like, as long as it showcases the outfit. And if you don't like it, you can stop. No obligation to do it if you no longer want to." 

Remington sipped his drink as he thought. "Where?" He asked. 

"In the same building as my office. We have a photography studio on the top floor. So you'd probably just come in with me." 

"It sounds good, actually." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"Great. That's great. I'll talk to them about it tomorrow." 

"Thanks, Andy" 

"No, thank you." 

After dinner, Remington wanted to show Andy the other dress he'd tried on earlier in the day. He stepped out of the one he was currently wearing and hung it back up, and Andy called through the closed door, "This is my favourite part of the day." 

Remington smiled to himself. "Me too," he called back, and it was, and he found it a little disconcerting to think how he'd gone from dreading the knock on the door to cheering up when he heard it. It was still scary to an extent, everything that had happened and that was happening, but it had been nearly three months, and Andy hadn't laid a finger on him. In fact, they hadn't touched since Andy had helped him out the car after the wedding. He was almost certain that if he wanted to hurt him, he'd have done it by now. 

Not to mention the news article about his suicide attempt. That had changed the way Remington saw Andy, had softened many of the sharp edges. He had begun to find himself experiencing moments in which he wanted to hug him, but he never acted on them. Besides, he didn't know what would happen if Andy was aware that he knew about the attempt, and he wasn't going to find out.