happy friday, loves ♡

outfits are in the pinterest board, external link! (some spoilers, too?)

*

Language and Literacy Development starts at eight in the morning every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Instructional Technology for Young Children starts at six and ends at nine in the evening every Wednesday.

Programs for Early Childhood Education starts at nine in the morning—every Saturday.

Andy thinks this is her worst semester so far, and it's only just begun.

After her first week, Andy already has two papers to work on, a multitude of chapters to read, and a group presentation to prepare for. Professor Singh in her evening class gives her the chills, and according to past students, his class needs the above and beyond effort to earn the A. Andy's never been scared of her professors before, but Singh's sharp face and terrifying aura tells Andy that she needs to work extra hard for his class.

Andy drags her feet across the living room, rolling her shoulders and groaning. Jenner's watching television on the sofa and doesn't glance up, only raises his hand in a wave.

When she enters his studio, Rhysand is asleep on his cluttered desk of papers filled with scribbled words and lyrics.

He's been working on his first project as a producer at Sterling. After adjusting to his new environment and colleagues, assisting in various projects and attending to different artists and meetings, he's finally assigned to work on an album to be released by a small solo singer the company's been training.

Rhysand wants to do his best. But Andy's worried.

She squats down on the floor and stares at the lines of his beautiful face, her lips turning up into a smile. Gently, she reaches out to trace his cheekbone with her finger. "Hi."

Rhysand doesn't open his eyes. "Hi," he rasps, stretching his arm out to take her hand into his. He interlaces their fingers together. "You didn't call me."

Andy doesn't want to bother him while he's working—or sleeping. "And you broke your promise. You said you weren't going to work today."

Rhysand doesn't move. "Are you mad?"

Andy sighs. "Get into bed and rest properly."

"You are."

"I'm worried. Rhys, this isn't healthy."

"C'mere."

In one swift move, he leans back into his chair and pulls her to his lap. Andy suppresses the squeal escaping her mouth, and her arms fly to his neck.

Rhysand buries his head on her shoulder. He circles his arms around her waist, snuggling into her neck and inhaling her scent. "I'll get some rest right here."

Andy sighs again and pushes his shoulder. "Bed, now."

A soft laugh. It tickles her skin. "I don't want to."

"Rhysand."

"Let me sleep."

Andy doesn't argue anymore. There's no use. She threads her fingers through the soft strands of his hair and carefully massages his scalp. "You're so stubborn."

Rhysand hums.

She presses her lips on the top of his head and waits until Rhysand's breathing slows, and he's dulled into sleep.

Andy takes a deep breath and shuts her eyes, tightening her arms around his warm body.

And she wonders—when did this being close to Rhysand make her feel so vulnerable? Make her feel as though her chest is ripped open, like she's not wearing any clothes?

Andy doesn't mind this. Because of what she feels for Rhysand, she doesn't mind the sinking feeling from underneath her bones. She doesn't mind his touch—even when it has become so hauntingly and achingly overwhelming.

Andy asked him why he loves her. Rhysand said, "There's no answer to that, sunshine. I can't put into words this burst of feeling I get in my chest when I look at you."

Andy asked him when he knew. Rhysand smiled and said, "When you cried over that video of a dog limping. When you forced me to take selfies with you. And when, whenever I spent nights in the studio and worked, I thought about my future—and saw you with me."

Andy asked him if he was afraid. Rhysand said, "'Course I am. But I don't mind."

So Andy doesn't mind it all. Not when Rhysand doesn't.

*

Sometimes, Rhysand forgets that his girlfriend is five—no, six years younger than him.

While she's doing her makeup in his bathroom, Rhysand leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. "Whose party is it again?"

"Sam's," Sanford answers easily, rummaging through her makeup bag. "I already promised Piper and Bash I'd be there."

Rhysand pushes his tongue against his cheek. "Text me every hour or so."

Sanford looks at him at the mirror and smiles. "I will, baby. Don't worry."

Sanford is in college. She has friends. She can go out and party if she wants to. Rhysand nods once and watches her silently.

When she's done, she turns around and grins. "Okay, how do I look?"

There's no question—Sanford is effortlessly gorgeous. Even a dress as simple as she's wearing now, black with long sleeves and buttons from her chest to where the skirt ends at the thigh, leaving her collarbones and shoulders bare—makes Rhysand go crazy.

He steps towards her and slides his hand across her pretty little waist, squeezing her hip. He lowers his head to hers and murmurs, "Like I want to keep you here."

Sanford's face heats up immediately and Rhysand resists the urge to laugh. The simple, honest things he says always make her so flustered. Rhysand loves it. "Rhys. Seriously. Does this pass for a birthday party outfit? Is my face too pale?"

Rhysand brushes his other hand around her neck and gathers her hair, tightening his fingers around the strands. Jesus. The thought that he can do this with one hand sends blood rushing down his body, but Rhysand stares into Sanford's eyes and remembers she's waiting for an answer. "I was supposed to ask you to tie your hair," he says, finally letting go, "but I like it better down."

Sanford frowns and turns to the mirror, taking her hair into her hands. "Are you sure? I shouldn't tie it?"

Rhysand knows it's irrational, but he wants her neck and shoulder to at least be a little covered up. "No. Keep it down."

Sanford turns around again and pushes past him to grab her purse and phone on the bed. "Okay, I'm ready, let's go."

Rhysand drives her to the bar with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her knee. He's a little on edge—as soon as she leaves, he needs a smoke.

Sanford takes his hand and squeezes it. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Rhysand says, shaking his head. He keeps his eyes on the road. "I'm fine."

She doesn't question it anymore.

The truth is, Rhysand is still worried about Bash and it's fucking annoying. Sanford has made him feel certain, assured, loved and cared for, and he knows she doesn't feel anything for the bastard.

But it's a party. Lots of things can go wrong at a party. Sanford's fucking gorgeous. He doesn't feel settled knowing he's leaving her by herself.

But Rhysand knows he can't stop her. He can't go in with her—she'd want to spend time with her friends without him hovering over her like a controlling piece of shit. Rhysand takes a deep breath—he definitely needs a smoke.

When they arrive at the place, Rhysand shifts the gear stick into park and shuts off the engine. "Keep your phone on loud."

Sanford smiles and leans over to kiss him quickly on the lips. It leaves a tingle on his mouth and Rhysand wants to bring her back home for more. "I got it, Rhys. Thank you for driving me. Remember that Piper's driving me back, okay?"

Rhysand nods. "Okay. I'll be at home waiting for you."

He trusts Sanford. He knows she wouldn't cheat on him, but if she ever did, he'd still sit at home and wait for her to come back.

She has him wrapped around her pretty little finger, and she doesn't even know it.

Sanford carefully steps out of the Jeep and waves at him, a grin on her beautiful face, before going inside.

Rhysand jumps down from the driver's seat and takes out his pack of cigarettes. He finishes two before he drives home with the window rolled down.

Jenner is downing a bottle of beer in the kitchen when Rhysand comes in and tosses his keys on the counter. His roommate opens the fridge. "Want one?"

"Just soda, thanks." Rhysand sits opposite him on the island and rubs the nape of his neck.

Jenner slides the opened can across the counter and leans forward on his elbows. He looks him in the eye. "Hey. I know my cousin is annoying as shit, but at least text her back. She was sulking at fucking Christmas."

Rhysand takes a sip and shakes his head. "We ended on good terms, but that shit's done when she tried to kiss me. Besides, Sanford doesn't like it."

His roommate runs a hand through his messy hair with a sigh. "You told her to fuck off. Was that true?"

Rhysand sends him a flat look. "And if it is?"

"Look, man. You're my best friend. But Veronica's torn up about it."

Rhysand exhales heavily and stares at Jenner's pleading eyes. "You're fuckin' annoying. I'll text her back to apologize for the rudeness and explain that we can't be friends again—but that's it."

"Be more polite this time," he reminds him, clinking their drinks together. "Just let her down easy. And for God's sake, I don't want to be in the middle of your shit anymore, so settle what needs to be settled, okay?"

"There's nothing to settle," Rhysand corrects him, hanging his head back as he swallows another mouthful.

"And my mom's pissed you didn't come with me for the holidays. You keep pissing off members of my family, man, not cool."

The mention of Jenner's mother makes Rhysand smile. "I had to work. I'll call her."

Jenner scoffs. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Rhysand raises his can to him. "I'm going upstairs." He stands up and turns around to head for the stairs.

"I'll order dinner in a few, text me what you want."

"Got it. Don't disturb me." Rhysand shuts the door of his studio.

Sanford keeps her promise—for the first four hours of the party. She said she's having fun and that she's safe. Rhysand keeps working on unpolished lyrics—he has a deadline.

When the fifth hour passes and Sanford hasn't texted him yet, Rhysand grabs his phone and sends her one. Baby, u still good? Having fun?

He keeps his phone on loud and sets it aside, focusing again on his work. Sanford will reply in a minute.

But ten minutes pass and go. Rhysand grits his teeth together and sends her another message. Sunshine?

Rhysand starts to pace his studio when another ten passes. He calls her.

"Hello?"

Rhysand's jaw clenches. "Where's Sanford?"

It's loud and it's deafening—music and chatter fill his ears but he doesn't care. Bash answered the fucking phone. "Who?" he yells.

"My girlfriend, you fuck. The owner of this phone, where the hell is she?"

"Oh." He has the nerve to laugh. "She's in the bathroom with Piper! She said she was feeling dizzy and left her phone with me."

Dizzy? Rhysand pockets his wallet and keys and slams open the door. "What happened to her?"

"She's fine, man!" Bash yells over the music. "Just a little drunk, I think. She's fine, don't worry about her."

Who was this motherfucker to tell him not to worry about Sanford? "Tell her I'm on my way."

"I'm pretty sure Andy doesn't want to leave yet," Bash says, and Rhysand shoves the key into the ignition and steps on the gas. "She's fine—"

"Tell her I'm on my way," Rhysand repeats forcefully, gripping the steering wheel. He hangs up and tosses his phone on the passenger's seat.

Rhysand hates the irrational anger at the pit of his stomach—he's going crazy because of it.

Bash kept telling him she's fine. Logically, if he looks past his temper and worry, he knows she is—just a little drunk.

But Rhysand can't stop and turn back. He can't.

He sees her first with Bash outside the bar—they're with another girl that Rhysand assumes is Piper. Sanford has her arm around Bash's shoulder, and his hand on her waist is keeping her on her feet.

Rhysand barely parks the Jeep before he's reaching for her, pulling her away from him. Her face is flushed—red from her cheeks to her neck, and her eyes are drooping and she can barely stand up straight.

Piper smiles widely at him. "Hi. Rhysand, right?"

"Yeah."

"Andy kept talking about you," she tells him, eyes twinkling. "She has an incredibly low tolerance."

Sanford suddenly grabs his face. "It's Rhys!" she squeals, grinning. "Hi!"

Bash tips his chin up at him. "I told you she was fine."

She's clearly fucking drunk. Rhysand clenches his jaw and takes both her wrists in one hand, nodding at Piper. "Did she throw up in the bathroom?"

Piper shakes her head. "No, she just went to pee. We gave her water, too. She didn't want to leave yet, but she clearly needs to rest. I was going to drop her off but Bash said you were on your way..."

"I'll ask her to call you when she wakes up tomorrow." He takes one of Sanford's arms and pulls it across his shoulder.

"Bye! Drive safe!" Piper shouts behind him.

Sanford's eyes are closed and her legs are wobbling while he leads her to the Jeep. "Rhysand...are you mad?"

Rhysand takes a deep breath and doesn't answer her.

"You're hot when you're mad," Sanford mumbles. "But scary too."

"Jesus, you're wasted," Rhysand mutters, keeping her steady with one arm. The other pulls the passenger door open. "Get in."

Sanford faces him and leans against the Jeep. "They were making me drink..." Her eyes are still half-closed, and her knees are bent. She points a finger at herself. "Said it was my first time at a party..."

Before he could think about it, Rhysand says, "And you couldn't say no?"

"It was fun," Sanford says, smiling. She looks dazed. "I was having so much fun! Rhys, can we go back inside? Please?"

"Come on." Rhysand scoops her up in his arms—her body willingly goes without as much as a protest—and settles her in the passenger seat. He fastens her seatbelt. "We're going home."

Sanford nods against the headrest. "'Kay." Her eyes are closed.

Rhysand drives as slowly as he can—Sanford is passed out in the passenger seat and he doesn't want her to feel more dizzy than she already is.

He calls Jenner on the way and asks him to open the front door. When they arrive, he carefully carries her inside the house.

Jenner puts a hand to his mouth. "Is she—how much did she drink?"

"No idea," Rhysand grunts, heading to the stairs. "Come upstairs and help me."

Jenner follows him. "Why are you taking her to the bathroom, dumbass? She needs to rest! On the bed!"

"She can't sleep with makeup on, dipshit," Rhysand says, setting Sanford down on the covered toilet seat. "She said she hates it."

Jenner scoffs. "I really doubt she'll notice. She's barely awake."

Her eyes are half-open again. She smiles at Rhysand. "Oh, it's my boyfriend."

"Sunshine," he says, gripping her shoulders. "Can you tell me what to do to take off your makeup?" Rhysand asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "Where's your cotton pads and shit?"

Sanford stretches her arm out and points at the cabinet under the sink. "Have a bottle there," she murmurs, squinting her eyes. "Pads."

His roommate opens it. "Rhys, here."

"What do I do?" Rhysand hisses, looking at the bottle. "Do I just put some on a pad and spread it on her face?"

Sanford nods slowly. "Yes, please."

Polite even when wasted. Rhysand bites his lip in an attempt to keep him from smiling. "Hold her up for me, J."

He does as he's told. Rhysand has no idea what he's doing, but he squeezes some of the oily liquid on the cotton and swipes it across her cheek. "Oh, shit, that's how it comes off."

Jenner stands behind Sanford and keeps his hands on her shoulders. He's wearing a shit-eating grin. "I can't believe I'm witnessing the day Rhysand Harton takes off fucking makeup."

Rhysand doesn't respond to that. He's not embarrassed. He finishes her other cheek, nose, chin, and forehead. "Close your eyes for me, baby. I'll take off your eyeshadow and eyeliner."

Sanford does as he says.

"Good girl," Rhysand mutters, carefully cradling her face with one hand. "Keep 'em closed."

"Jesus," Jenner says. "Whipped motherfucker."

Rhysand's lips turn up at that.

When he's done, Rhysand returns the bottle and the cotton pads in the cabinet. "Alright, all done."

"Okay," Sanford mutters. She stands up, and Rhysand and Jenner immediately lurch forward to help her.

She faces the sink—the two boys holding onto her arms to keep her steady—and she bows down to wash her face with water.

Rhysand reaches behind him for a towel. "Good? Wanna go to sleep now?"

Sanford draws her eyebrows together and pushes him weakly.

Then, to his horror, she starts to clumsily unbutton her dress.

"Oh, God!" Jenner screams, turning around. "Fucking—what the hell, Andy?"

"Get out!" Rhysand snaps, pushing his roommate out of the bathroom. "Jesus—Sanford, what are you doing?"

Sanford's still working on the first button. "Need to change...can't sleep in this dress."

Rhysand almost had a heart attack. Jenner did, too. He takes a deep breath. "Can you do it on your own?"

She shakes her head slowly, looking at him with lidded eyes. "I need your help...to take off my bra..."

Rhysand doesn't answer.

"It's nothing you're not going to see in the future anyway."

She says it so nonchalantly that Rhysand chokes on his saliva.

Sanford gives up on the button and whines at him, "Are you just going to stand there? I need your help..."

Rhysand slaps his face. "Wait here. I'll get you clothes. Don't move."

Sanford doesn't move until Rhysand's back. He places the shirt, hoodie, and sweatpants on the counter and takes a deep breath, stepping forward. "I'll unbutton your dress now, alright?"

Sanford nods and wraps her arms around his neck. "'Kay."

Rhysand works on each button—starting from the chest. A strip of skin is exposed every time a button falls open, and Rhysand can't help but think how every inch of this woman is beautiful.

He takes the dress off once he's done, and Sanford's standing in her plain black bra and underwear. She turns around. "Bra, please."

Rhysand hangs his head. "Okay." He steps forward and unclasps it, his fingertips brushing against the smooth planes of her back. "Don't face me yet. I'll put the shirt and hoodie on you, okay?"

"'Kay."

It's a little difficult to put on the shirt with her back facing him, but Rhysand manages. He puts the hoodie on afterwards, and asks Sanford to step into the sweatpants.

When she's dressed, Rhysand carries her to bed.

Sanford hugs the pillow and tucks her face against the sheets. She closes her eyes. "Goodnight. Thank you. I love you. See you tomorrow."

Rhysand's mouth turns up into an amused smile. He pulls the blanket further into her body. "Night, baby."

*

When Andy wakes up, her mouth is dry and her head hurts.

She groans as she sits up, eyes blinking blearily at the sunlight from the windows. Large hands come to guide her waist immediately when she moves, and a deep voice says, "Careful."

Andy's eyes register the frame of Rhysand's body first before his face. "Hi," she rasps. "My head feels like it's going to explode."

Rhysand reaches for the bedside table. "Drink this."

Andy takes the pill and swallows it down with water. She rubs her eyes awake. "Time is it?"

"Ten," he answers. "You want to go back to sleep, sunshine?"

She shakes her head and looks at him. He just came from the gym. "I have to go back to the dorm and study. I...my memory's a little fuzzy, but I didn't do anything embarrassing last night, right?"

Rhysand raises one eyebrow. "You threw up on me."

Andy's hands fly to her mouth. Struck with horror, her eyes widen. "Really?" she squeaks. "Oh my God. I am so sorry, Rhys, I can't—"

But his lips are slowly turning up into a grin.

Andy pushes his chest, and Rhysand falls onto the pillows with a grunt. "Rhysand! I almost had a heart attack!"

Rhysand laughs loudly and grabs Andy's wrists with one hand. "Is this any way to treat me? After I took off all your makeup, lent you my clothes, and tucked you to bed?"

She hovers above him, blinking at his face lined with sweat. Her face reddens. "Thank you for taking care of me," she mumbles. "But don't do that to me again."

"Nothing embarrassing, sunshine," Rhysand assures her, smirking. "C'mon. I'll cook you breakfast before I head to work."

Andy frowns. "You're going to work? On a Sunday?"

"Yeah," Rhysand says simply, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. "Scrambled eggs sound good?"

Andy manages a smile and follows him out the door. "Yeah."

Andy goes about her week with a heavy workload for each of her classes and a large cup of coffee—and because the new semester has just started, Baked! has been bustling with noise and customers all day long.

And Rhysand has been going home unreasonably late—and sometimes...sometimes, he forgets to text Andy. She sends him messages of quick updates and some 'don't forget to eat, babe!' and 'don't smoke, okay?', but Rhysand rarely sends a reply back.

It's bothering Andy, but it's work. She understands.

But she's supposed to be focusing on studying for tomorrow's quiz, and her hands keep reaching for her phone to check for a reply.

Sabina places a mug of hot chocolate on her desk. "You're not going to get any studying done if you keep looking at your phone, kid."

Andy bites her lip and takes the drink. "Thanks for this. And I know. I'm just worried."

The senior brings her own mug to her lips and leans against the table. "About being too clingy?"

How do her friends know her so well? Andy slumps against her chair and hugs her knees to her chest. "Yeah."

Sabina smiles and ruffles her hair. "If he loves you like you say he does, he won't mind. Go to bed in a while, 'kay? You need to rest, you have a full day tomorrow."

Andy nods. Her roommate goes back to her own desk and focuses her attention on her screen—probably working on her thesis.

Andy turns her phone around and sets it aside until she's sure she can ace the test tomorrow. At past midnight, her heart sinks when she still finds no response from her boyfriend, so she types her fifth message. Rhys, I'm going to bed, I have an early class tomorrow. Please take care of yourself :( I love you :( Text me back when you're free!

He does—at five in the morning. Andy blinks open her eyes at six to get ready for school, and sits up to read the message. I'm sorry, sunshine. Can you spare me some time for lunch today? I'll make it up to you

Andy smiles. Okay :D She also sends a heart emoji after that.

Rhysand immediately responds with a smiley face.

Heart feeling lighter, Andy showers and puts on Rhysand's gray, oversized hoodie, pairing it with black leggings and sneakers. She curls her hair a little bit and hums while putting on her makeup.

She makes it through her morning classes with excitement seeping through her bones. It's silly how much she can miss Rhysand after only being a week apart.

Rhysand meets her at the parking lot with a finished stick between his fingers, a small bouquet of pink peony flowers, and a sweet kiss. "That's mine," he says, tipping his chin at the hoodie she's wearing.

Andy grins sheepishly. She shoves her hands into its pockets and leans forward to lean against his chest. "It's mine now."

"M'sorry I've been busy," he mumbles in her ear, gripping her waist.

Andy smiles. "It's okay, it's work."

He hands her the flowers and turns the ball cap around his head. "Weekend's for you and me. Promise."

Andy's heart skips three beats. Her face flushes as she takes the bouquet and raises it to hide her grin. "Sap. I hate you."

"It's 'cause I'm dating a romantic," Rhysand counters, smirking. He opens the passenger door for her and holds his palm out to help her. "And no, you don't. Get in."

They drive to a nearby restaurant with the windows rolled down. While Rhysand keeps his eyes on the road, Andy faces him fully, staring at the deep lines of exhaustion in his face. Andy frowns and brushes her thumb against the back of his hand. "Rhys...how's work?"

He shoots her a glance. "What do you mean?"

Her worry must have been written all over her face. Andy bites her lip and plays with his long fingers. "Do you like it? Are you enjoying it?"

Rhysand squeezes her hand. "I do. I am."

Always the simple answers. Andy supposes it's enough. "Okay. That's good."

He pauses for a moment. Then, quietly, he adds, "They, um, like me. They like my style and they listen to me. I thought it would be difficult, like before..." Rhysand takes a deep breath and keeps his eyes on the road, gripping the steering wheel. "But I love it there."

Andy smiles. She brings his hand to her lips and gently kisses his knuckles. "I'm happy, then. Thank you for telling me."

Rhysand parks the Jeep and shuts off the engine. He turns to look at her. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I'll let you have the first listen."

She leans forward to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll be honored. Come on, I'm hungry."

Lunch is quick because Rhysand has to go back to work right afterwards. An hour isn't nearly enough time to spend with him, but Andy doesn't protest—his work is important. Rhysand parks the Jeep and looks at her. "Come with me."

"I need my education, baby," Andy says with a laugh, grabbing her bag from the backseat. "I'll visit one of these days with cheese tarts and make all your co-workers love me."

"They'll love you even without the cheese tarts," Rhysand mutters, taking off his ball cap and placing it on top of Andy's head. He tugs at the string of his hoodie. "You're stealing my hoodies now. Might as well steal this too."

Andy grins and leans forward to kiss him quickly. "I'm going to be late to my class. Bye."

She turns to step down the Jeep, but Rhysand catches her wrist, grabs the nape of her neck, and kisses her harder and longer until she's melting in her seat.

Andy blinks, breathless, when Rhysand pulls away.

He looks unaffected. Like he always does. He raises an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to be late?"

"Right," Andy stammers, stumbling down the vehicle with the flowers and clumsily shutting the door. Her neck is flushed red as she waves at him quickly and runs to her building, covering her face with the flowers.

Rhysand probably laughed at her before leaving the parking lot.

And when they spend time together that weekend, Rhysand has chocolates, pain reliever pills, and a hot compress ready—he remembered that it's her time of the month.

The gesture makes Andy's heart feel warm. It's the little things that Rhysand does that remind her why she keeps falling in love with him.

*

we're in part 5! halfway there :D

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