warning: sexual themes and miscommunication! please be reminded that andy's character is very belittling towards herself :c
andy's dress in the external link!
*
"Does it hurt?"
MJ blinks at Andy. "Does what hurt?"
She bites her lip. "You know. The thing. You and Sab always do."
"Me and Sab..." MJ trails off, staring at her. "I'm sorry, what is it that we always do? Get wasted?"
Andy doesn't know how to say this. She buries her face in her hands and mumbles, "Making love. Does it hurt? The first time?"
"Making what?" the redhead shrieks, pushing Andy onto the bed. The younger falls on her pillows with a loud flop, groaning from the sudden attack, but MJ crawls on top of her and shakes her shoulders frantically. "You—you're a kid! Are you—" she stops, gasping. "Are you and Rhysand—?"
"I'm not a kid, I'm twenty," Andy argues weakly, laughing at her incredulous face. "And I don't know," she answers her question, swallowing hard. "I think so? It's our anniversary in a few days. And we've done...stuff."
MJ blinks at her. "Stuff."
Andy really, really doesn't want to get into details. "Just tell me if it hurts, please," Andy whines, pushing her roommate off her and sitting up.
MJ sits on her heels, still shocked. "Uh," she stammers, bringing a hand to her forehead. "It stings at first. But you get used to it and the pain goes away and you start to feel good. But the partner has to be slow, really slow, and very considerate," MJ tells her, placing a hand on her knee. "They have to be extra careful and gentle, and they have to put you first, and they have to take care of you—"
Andy raises her palm. "Okay, I got it. Rhys is—he's...he's all of that and more," she mumbles, hugging her legs to her chest. "He's going to take care of me."
Her roommate searches her eyes. "Bub," she starts softly, pursing her lips, "do you want to do this with him? There's no rush, you know? I don't think he's going anywhere."
Andy's been thinking about it a lot. She's nervous, and like all things, he's her first, but Andy trusts him. She trusts him with her life, and she trusts him to take care of her. "I want to," Andy answers quietly, heat rising to her cheeks.
MJ nods. "As long as you're sure. As long as he stops when you say so, and as long as he takes care of you."
He already does, Andy wants to say. With or without the physical intimacy. She nods and smiles.
Sabina and MJ go with her to the mall to look for a dress for their anniversary date. Andy's palms are sweating as she and her roommates go in and out of shops—a lot of them are too revealing or too tight, and they look more MJ and Sabina's styles than her own. She's sad and about to give up, but her friends insist that they're going to find something.
Eventually, they do. Andy's jaw goes slack at the outfit Sabina pulls out—it's a bodycon, midi dress in dark green, with spaghetti straps and a small leg slit on the front. MJ shoves it to her. "Try it on, try it on!"
It looks—Andy thinks it looks good. It fits her shape perfectly, accentuates what little curves she has and her short legs, and it's not too much for Andy. SShe likes it.
Sabina whistles when she comes out of the dressing room. MJ is grinning like a wolf and looks her up and down.
"Perfect," the eldest mutters, twirling her finger around.
Andy groans and turns around. "You guys are embarrassing."
"Dude, she has ass," Sabina tells MJ. "She has ass, what the fuck, I never knew that!"
"It's perfect for you, bub," MJ says, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around to face the mirror again. Her friends are smiling at her reflection. "You like this? Are you comfortable enough?"
Andy bites her lip and nods. "Yeah." She pays for it right then and there.
She and her friends grab dinner at the mall while they're there, and Andy insists on paying. It might not have been much, but Andy's sure she wouldn't have been able to find the dress if they hadn't offered to come along.
On the day of her and Rhysand's anniversary—they've argued about this, Rhysand kept insisting that it was the day of their not-so-first date, but Andy said it was the day they talked about it outside her dorm building, and Andy won—Andy gets out of school early and runs to her dorm to shower and dress. Rhysand is picking her up in a few hours so they can go out and have dinner (Andy booked the place two weeks ago), and head home for wine and...other things afterwards.
MJ curls her hair and Sabina does her makeup. She's trying to keep her laugh in—by the way her friends are acting, it looks like she's getting ready for a freaking wedding instead of an anniversary date.
"Okay, I tried making it as natural and light as possible like you asked," Sabina mutters, leaning back to inspect her work. "But still drop-dead pretty, of course. What do you think?" She hops down the desk and lets Andy see herself in the mirror.
She looks...prettier. Wow. Andy looks at Sabina and juts her bottom lip down. "Thank you," she whispers.
"Oh my God, don't cry," Sabina says, grabbing a tissue roll. "Nope, no crying. You've cried enough when I did your eyeliner."
"I'm not gonna cry," Andy argues weakly. "I just...it looks great. Thank you, Sab."
"You're beautiful already, babe." She winks at her. "What I did was nothing. I'll get you your accessories to match and lend you my pumps, but please don't break them."
"Oh, my necklace is on my desk," she calls. "The one with the sun."
Sabina lets out a noise of protest. "No, it doesn't match your dress!"
"Rhys gave it to me," Andy says, pouting. "I wanna wear it."
Behind her, MJ laughs. "Let her wear the damn thing, Sab. It's their anniversary."
"Fine," Sabina grumbles, grabbing it off the table. She rummages through Andy's drawer for her earrings. "I'm choosing the earrings, then."
MJ finishes her hair. Her dark curls fall across her bare shoulders and back. "What do you think, bub?"
Andy turns around to hug her with one arm. "Thank you so much."
Rhysand lets her know that he's here. Andy takes a deep breath, and Sabina puts on her accessories. MJ hands her a small black purse and helps her slip into her heels.
"You guys make it seem like you're parents sending me off to prom," Andy murmurs fondly, feeling her chest grow warm.
"We are," MJ agrees, laughing. She and Sabina step back. "Remember to be safe, okay?"
"Call us if something happens," Sabina adds.
"Communicate with your partner," MJ continues.
"Bite his hand if he doesn't stop," Sabina says.
"And remember to take it slow," MJ adds.
"Okay!" Andy yells, the worry and anxiousness settling in her bones. Oh, God. "Okay, stop that, you guys are making me panic. I don't—I'm not even sure if it's going to happen tonight."
"It should, you're wearing very sexy lingerie and your makeup is bomb," Sabina tells her, pushing her out the door. "But if it doesn't because you're not ready yet, don't force it, babe. Okay?"
"Okay." She nods, inhaling shakily. "Okay, I'm gonna go. I love you both, bye!"
They peek their heads out the doorframe and wave at her, yelling 'be safe!' and 'she's finally growing up!'.
Andy catches her breath when she sees Rhysand. He's wearing—he's wearing a suit.
He's in a white dress shirt with the first few buttons undone, a black jacket and dress pants and he's wearing the watch she got him and small hoop earrings, and his hair is gelled and parted in the middle and he looks so handsome.
His lips pull up into a half-smile when she reaches him. His eyes rake down her body, and Andy squirms under the attention. "Beautiful," he mutters under his breath, reaching out a hand.
Andy comes to him and grins, quickly kissing his cheek. "You like the dress?"
"I'm sorry you have to ride this ratty old thing in it," he answers, squeezing her hip. His free hand runs along the line of her neck and stops at her necklace.
"I love the Jeep, don't insult her," Andy tells him with a click of her tongue. They've been through so much with the Jeep, how can he call her ratty and old?
Rhysand smiles, and his dimple shows. "You want your present now or later?"
Andy brightens. "I have a present?"
Rhysand gives her a flat look. "I know you have one for me. Don't even feign surprise."
She giggles and threads their fingers together. "I didn't know you were going to get me one, too. But thank you, you didn't have to. I don't know what it is yet but I love it already."
Rhysand shakes his head in amusement. "Now or later?"
"Now," she says, excited. "I'm too curious and I'll be thinking about it during dinner."
He opens the door for her and helps her up. "Watch your step," he murmurs, carefully helping her get settled in the passenger seat.
Rhysand opens the trunk while Andy waits, leg bouncing in anticipation. Then he hops in the driver's seat holding a huge—picture? Of them?
"Happy anniversary," he says, handing it to her.
Andy takes it curiously. It's huge, it's the picture of them on his phone, his wallpaper, the selfie, and oh—wait. Andy turns it around, and her eyes widen at the list of songs printed on another picture of them (taken by Jenner, the night of her birthday—he's kissing her head and she's blowing out candles)—songs from Just Jupiter and Disney, mostly, and other artists they listened to together and loved, and there's one, at number ten, that says UNTITLED - RH.
It's not just a picture. Andy peeks inside—it's a vinyl. A customized vinyl.
Her mouth is wide open as she stares at Rhysand. He's already looking at her, waiting for her reaction.
"This is a customized vinyl," Andy says quietly. Incredulously. "With our favorite songs. And there's something you wrote or produced in here. For me."
Rhysand searches her face. "Produced," he says. "And it's just thirty seconds long, it's not done, but, ah, I wanted to share it. With you."
Andy doesn't know what to say.
She's never—she's never gotten a gift like this before. She hugs the gift to her chest and closes her eyes and before she can help it, she's crying.
"Sunshine," Rhysand says, leaning closer to her. "Sunshine, why are you crying?"
"I love it," she says through her tears, sniffling. "I love it, thank you."
"Jesus." He sighs, bowing his head. "I thought I did the romance thing wrong." He looks at her, and he's smiling. "Stop crying, baby. You're not supposed to be crying today."
"I should've said later!" Andy wails, shoulders shaking. "I hate you, I can't believe this—"
"You said now!" Rhysand counters, laughing.
"I didn't know I was going to cry!" Andy sniffles, holding her hand out. "Get my handkerchief from my purse, please. I can't go to dinner like this."
Rhysand's still laughing. He leans closer to her and gently wipes the tears on her cheeks. "You crybaby," he muses.
"You sap."
He quickly drops a kiss on her lips. "Okay, let's go eat before we starve," he says, and Andy hugs the gift to her chest until they arrive at the fancy restaurant and have to leave it in the Jeep.
Andy asks the waiter to take a picture of them, and she gasps when she sees her face.
"Why didn't you tell me I looked like this!" she cries, showing him the picture. "I have makeup all over my face! You let me look like this in front of you?"
Rhysand blinks at her sudden outburst. "I don't know, you look pretty and I didn't notice."
Andy glares at him and grabs her purse. "I'm going to the bathroom to fix it and then we're going to redo the picture."
Rhysand grumbles. He takes the picture with her again, anyway.
Jenner isn't home when they arrive. Rhysand opens a bottle of wine and brings out two glasses, and he and Andy listen to the vinyl in his studio. The song he produced sounds like a ballad, a slow tempo, and Andy loves it. She wants to hear it come alive with words and lyrics.
Andy's gift is nothing compared to his. She's too embarrassed to give it now.
Rhysand raises an eyebrow, unamused. "Come on, just give it to me."
"I don't think I should anymore," Andy mutters, scrunching her nose. "It's...it's nothing special. It's nothing like your gift."
His eyes soften. "Sunshine, I don't care. I actually don't care if you have something for me or not. Just celebrating with you like this, knowing I spent one year with you and haven't fucked it up yet—that's enough. Whatever it is you have in your hand, I'm going to love it because it's from you."
Rhysand never talks this much. "That's the most I've heard you say," she says, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Rhysand circles her waist and pulls her to him. "Give it to me, sunshine."
Andy shoves it in his chest.
He tilts his head and looks at the pack of cigarettes. He meets Andy's eyes. "I thought you wanted me to quit."
"Just..." She closes her eyes. "I do. Look inside."
Carefully, Rhysand opens the box.
Andy's hand hurt writing each of those letters. She wrote every single one while pouring her heart into them, and she wants him to open them when he feels sad, or happy, or tired, or when he misses her, or when they're fighting, or when she's too busy—every mood and every instance she can think of, she wrote a letter for.
Rhysand smiles. "Can I open one now?"
Andy bites her lip. "Which one?"
"The happy one," he says.
Andy's heart bursts. "Not now. Read it when I'm not here."
He closes the box and stands up, wrapping his arms around her. He kisses her hair. "I love it. Thank you."
Andy knows he's being sincere. "Happy first anniversary," she tells him.
Rhysand hums. "First of many more."
Andy smiles and nods.
Then she takes a deep breath and pulls back. She holds Rhysand's gaze and swallows. "Um, there's actually something else."
His eyebrow raises. "Another gift?"
"Not exactly," she answers quietly. She pulls his hand and leads him to his bedroom.
Rhysand is watching her curiously and lets himself be dragged towards the bed.
She wants this. She's thought about this moment far too many times, and there's no else she would rather trust this moment to than Rhysand. She wants Rhysand to be her first, her only, her last.
But why is she feeling so nervous?
Rhysand understands what she's trying to tell him. He searches her face and asks, "Are you sure?"
Andy swallows and nods. "Yes."
He pulls her to him and kisses her.
Andy kisses him back, and Rhysand cups her cheek and grabs her leg, pushing them both to the bed, laying her down beneath him and Andy wants this. She's just nervous because it's her first time, but she trusts Rhysand.
His hand wanders along her knee and calf where the slit of her dress is. The other curls around her neck, and his lips kiss down her shoulder, collarbone, the planes of her chest.
But he stops and looks at her. His eyes are dark and she can feel him along her thigh. "Color?" he asks quietly.
Before she can think about it, Andy blurts out, "Green."
"I'll take care of you, sunshine," he murmurs, switching their positions. He backs up against the headboard and pulls Andy to his lap, hands slowly moving down her waist, her back.
Andy can feel her pulse on her throat and her heart is beating wildly in her chest. Her fingers clutch Rhysand's shirt on his shoulders, and distractedly, he takes his jacket off.
Her fingers are trembling. Why are her fingers trembling?
She balls them into fists so that Rhysand doesn't see.
Andy feels guilty—feels ashamed she's suddenly having second thoughts about this when she's wanted this for a long time, she's sure Rhysand does, too, and he's been nothing but kind and loving and patient with her.
Rhysand kisses her again—hot and heavy and intense and Andy melts.
"So beautiful," he rasps, kissing her again. "I'm so lucky," he breathes, tilting her head to deepen their kiss.
Andy's the one who's lucky.
But should she say something? She feels like she needs to say something, but she knows her voice will shake once she does and Rhysand will stop and she—she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to be selfish, she doesn't want Rhysand to hold back—she told him so—she doesn't want any of those because she wants this, too.
So she's a little nervous. So what? That's fine. Rhysand will take care of her. She knows, without a doubt, she wants to do this with Rhysand. She wants to make Rhysand feel good and appreciated and she wants this moment with him.
But when Rhysand finds the zipper of her dress on her back, and he pulls the zipper down slowly, Andy feels like she's battling down her fear like wildfire.
Rhysand takes the dress off her shoulders and he helps her get out of it, and Andy's breath stutters through her lips. She suddenly feels so exposed, so vulnerable, and this isn't the first time Rhysand sees her like this, but it's the first time she suddenly feels the need to hug herself and cower away from Rhysand's eyes and hands.
No. No. She's fine. She kisses Rhysand's neck, brushes her lips along his pulse point, and he runs his hands down her bare back, fingers tracing along the strap of her bra.
Andy can feel him against her stomach and she tries to focus on the thought that she's at least making him feel good.
Rhysand puts her down on the bed and sits on his heels, hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.
He takes it off and throws it somewhere behind him, and crawls on top of her, kissing her softly. "Color?"
"Green," she whispers.
She keeps saying green. Green, green, green.
"What do you say when you want me to stop, baby?"
"Red," Andy says quietly.
"Color?"
She needs to say red. She needs to say red—"Green."
Her bra and underwear come off. Rhysand keeps asking her her color. Andy keeps saying green.
"Feel good?" he asks, breath teasing her thigh.
It did, before. It should. It does, but it's overpowered by the igniting fear in her belly. No. She's not a coward. She wants this.
She nods.
It does feel good. Just not the same as before. "Relax, baby," Rhysand murmurs in her ear.
Andy forces herself to relax and loosen up a bit.
"Good girl," he praises, and Andy distracts herself by kissing him. "I'll get the condom," he says against her mouth, pulling away and reaching across the bedside table to open a drawer.
Andy shuts her eyes. If she sees the condom, she knows that it's going to be real and she might cry.
No, no, no, no. She's not going to cry. She's going to be good, she's going to be fine. She wants Rhysand to feel good—he'll take care of her.
But she's clenching her teeth so hard she feels her jaw strain, and she wants to close her legs and cover herself and—no, she wills those thoughts away, wanting to feel satisfied that she can make Rhysand feel good even though she feels anything but that.
Rhysand comes back with the condom, but he doesn't tear it open. He's staring at Andy. "You're shaking," he says.
No, no, no. Andy fists the blankets and tries to give him a smile. "I'm fine."
Her voice trembles.
Rhysand stiffens. "You're crying."
Andy can't help it. As soon as he says those words, she flinches, and she can feel the wetness stain her cheeks, and God, she can't stop them, she can't stop—
Rhysand pulls the blanket over her, wrapping her body in it. Andy doesn't want that—it's the opposite of what she wants, but she finds her fingers clutching the cloth around her shoulders and she can feel sobs bubbling at the back of her throat and she can't stop—
"Sanford," Rhysand says, and panic washes over her whole body like flames. He only calls her that when it's serious, when he's mad, and oh, God, she only ever wanted to make him feel good, she wanted this, why is he mad—
"You're scaring me," Rhysand says, and his voice is teetering on subtle desperation and worry. He doesn't touch her. "Sanford, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
Andy covers her face with her hands, and her shoulders shake so uncontrollably and she doesn't know what to say to him except—"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobs, choking back wails, "I don't—wanted to make you feel good, I—"
Rhysand stills.
Slowly, he takes her hands away from her face. Andy looks at him through her tears, and she can't read his face.
"Oh, sunshine."
His voice sounds so wrecked.
"I'm sorry," Andy sobs.
Rhysand keeps the blanket wrapped around her. His arms wrap tightly around her small frame, crushing her to his chest. "Fuck, sunshine, I'm so sorry."
Andy's heart hurts. It's not supposed to be like this. She lets out a loud cry and clings desperately to Rhysand's shirt. "N-no, I wanted it, I w-wanted to do this with y-you, I t-trust you—"
"Stop," Rhysand breathes, and his voice breaks her. "Just...stop."
Andy cries into his shoulder, slumping down on his body, until her sobs turn into little hiccups and his shirt is drenched with her betraying tears.
Rhysand pulls back slowly. "Can I dress you?" he asks quietly, searching her eyes.
Andy nods once.
Gently, Rhysand takes off the blanket. Andy doesn't hug herself or cower away from his touch. This time—this time, she welcomes it. It's comforting, and sweet, and everything she needs right now.
Rhysand puts on her underwear. Then, quickly, he grabs a shirt and sweatpants from his closet and carefully dresses her in those, too.
Andy takes a few steadying breaths. She lets Rhysand do what he wants, and he wipes her cheeks gently with his thumbs. Andy feels the disgust and guilt take over her bones—Rhysand looks pained.
He slides his hand down her arm and envelopes her shaking fingers in his. He looks at her and asks, "Do you want to go home?"
"No," Andy croaks.
"Call MJ or Sabina?"
Why is he sending her away? Does he want her to leave? Did she screw up so badly that he wants her gone? Is he—
"Stop that," Rhysand snaps, eyebrows furrowing together. "I know what you're thinking and fuck, Sanford, I just...I don't know if you want to be around me right now." He inhales sharply. "I don't know if you want to go home and talk to MJ and Sabina, I don't know if you want to go to bed and want me to leave, I don't know if I should be even touching you—"
"I don't want you to leave, I don't want to leave," Andy says in a rush, feeling a tear streak down her cheek again. She tightens her hold on his fingers.
Rhysand's gaze is hard. "I don't trust what you say anymore."
No, no, no, no. Andy whimpers and grips his arm with both hands. "I-I don't—"
"Why didn't you tell me to stop?" he says, tightening his jaw. "You should've told me to stop. The second you felt something was wrong, you should've told me to stop. That was the deal, Sanford, you promised me."
Andy breathes in shakily. He sounds so—so disappointed in her. She screws her eyes shut. "But I wanted to—"
"You weren't ready and look where we are," Rhysand continues, voice breaking. "You kept saying green. You promised me."
"I wanted this with you," Andy tries to say miserably, doesn't know how to say it—"There's no one else I would want to do this with, I trust you, I love you, Rhysand, please don't doubt that."
Rhysand bows his head, and his shoulders slump heavily. Andy swallows down her guilt and shame and regret. "I hurt you."
"You didn't!" Andy almost shouts, desperate, desperate to make him understand—"I wanted to make you feel good—"
"Sanford." Rhysand looks at her, and Andy's chest feels so tight. "This means nothing to me if you don't feel good, too."
Andy doesn't—she doesn't know what to say. Her thoughts come bubbling out her mouth, "But I wanted it, too, but I was scared and it felt so wrong, I don't know why I didn't—why I didn't say so, and it hurt so much because I wanted to go on and I know you'll take care of me but I felt so wrong—"
"You weren't ready," Rhysand says, shutting his eyes. "Just because we did stuff together...doesn't mean you were ready for this."
Andy grips his fingers. "Please don't—" she hiccups, bringing his hand to her lips. "Please don't break up with me," she whimpers miserably, "I love you and I do trust you. I'm sorry I—I'm sorry I didn't say red, I'm sorry I didn't ask you to stop," she says all of this, clutching his hand, praying he stays—"I'm sorry I disappointed you, please don't—just p-please don't break up with me—"
Rhysand crushes her to him, and Andy cries again.
"Did I hurt you too bad?" he whispers in her hair.
Andy doesn't deserve this. Andy doesn't deserve him. She shakes her head. "No. I love you."
Rhysand sighs. "I love you," he finally says, and Andy lets out a sob of relief. "I love you, I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry." He takes a deep breath. "Fuck, sunshine, I'm sorry."
Andy doesn't want this. He's not supposed to be apologizing. "Rhys—"
He shushes her. "I know," he murmurs, cradling her hair and running his hand down her back soothingly. "I know, baby. I love you."
Andy nods against his shoulder. Rhysand repeats the words over and over in her ear.
They fall asleep like that—dried tears, heavy hearts, the need to touch and keep each other close.
Rhysand keeps her in his arms. And Andy doesn't know what she'd do without this.
*
thank you always for your comments :c
TWOU is heavily based on a relationship and its ups and downs and their development together and as individuals. there's no villain, there's no end goal. just the story of two people.
i'm currently writing part 6 (pls forgive me) and i'm excited to have you guys read the rest of the chapters. (part 5 is until chapter 34). updating fridays, sundays, tuesdays now x
as always, thank you so so much for reading. please let me know your thoughts!
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