Andy waits for Rhysand's text, and it comes, a few days later, when she's finishing up her shift at Baked!. What time are you off? - R

No introductions, no greeting. Still, Andy smiles and types her reply. In ten. :)

I'll be in front of your dorm in twenty.

Okay! See you :D

Rhysand doesn't respond.

For the rest of Andy's shift, she drums her fingertips on the counter and taps her shoe against the floor, a giddy feeling rising across her chest. When the clock's hands point to the end of her shift, she dashes towards the break room, takes off her apron, and grabs her bag.

It's a ten-minute walk to her dorm building, but Andy makes it in seven. Standing outside, with the chilly air brushing her skin, she pulls out her phone and hurriedly checks her reflection in the mirror.

Her hands try to fix her mess of a hair, and there's pink tainting her cheeks, but otherwise, she looks fine. As fine as she can be, anyway.

Rhysand comes not a minute late in his Jeep. He shuts off the engine and jumps down with ease, Andy's familiar maroon sweater folded across his arm. He walks towards her.

And Andy catches her breath. She smiles widely. "Hi."

"Here," he says lowly, outstretching his hand.

Andy takes the sweater, the cotton material hugs her fingers as she takes a sniff, noting it smells different. "Did it smell super bad? I can't remember when I left it, I'm sorry."

"Had it washed," is Rhysand's curt reply. "And it didn't."

"Oh, thank you!" Andy says brightly, grinning. "That's kind of you."

Rhysand nods and puts his hands inside his pockets.

Andy shifts her weight from one foot to another and bites her lip. "Um, have you eaten?"

Rhysand raises an eyebrow.

"As a thank you," Andy says in a rush, pulse jumping, "would you want to grab burgers with me? My treat. I haven't eaten since this morning."

He doesn't even consider it—just turns around and starts walking.

Andy follows him. Her cheekbones are starting to hurt.

She falls into step beside him with much effort—his legs are long, and his strides are large. Andy turns to him. "Where's Jenner?"

"Working," Rhysand answers.

Andy hums, but doesn't say anything else. Rhysand seems content with this as they walk along.

And Andy isn't sure, but she thinks Rhysand is slowing his steps.

Andy smiles at this. When they reach the small burger joint down the block, he opens the door, and he steps aside to let her through. His eyes don't meet hers.

"Thank you," she mumbles, blushing. She ducks her head and enters the little diner. There are only a few people, a couple of college students like her, who raise their gazes at them as they walk in.

Rhysand follows closely behind her as she chooses a table near the window. The paint on the wall is nearly chipped off, and the chairs are mismatched, but the smell of food and grease is heavenly. Andy's stomach rumbles.

Rhysand's dark eyes snap to hers. Heat creeps up her neck as she covers her face with the menu. "Sorry," she squeaks. "I'm really hungry."

"I noticed."

The statement is flat, but Andy can't look—she doesn't know if he's smiling, or if there's amusement somewhere in his face, but she's too embarrassed to look.

She only lowers the menu when they're both ready to order, and the waiter scribbles their choices quickly before he scurries away, leaving them alone once again.

Rhysand folds his arms on the table and stares at her.

Andy clears her throat. "What's your last name?"

Rhysand's face remains void of emotion. "Curious, Sanford?"

Andy flushes and shrugs, hugging her sweater to her chest. "I don't know much about you. Except that you're older, you're done with university, and that you make music."

He's quiet for a few moments before he says, "Harton. Twenty-four. From Ashemark."

"You are old," Andy comments, lips forming a teasing smile. "And you're from very far."

Rhysand's mouth twitches. His earrings dangle and shine against the light.

When he doesn't say anything else, Andy takes it as a cue to ask more questions. "What kind of music do you produce?"

Rhysand pauses. Then, he counters, "Why major in education?"

"Veterinary medicine was my first choice," Andy says, lips quirking upwards, "but then I realized I couldn't stand seeing animals hurt. And then I wanted to take up law, but I realized I couldn't argue with someone without crying. And then, well, being a teacher didn't sound too bad, and I like kids and helping people, so why not?"

Rhysand studies her for a few moments. "I don't have much creative freedom with the music I write and produce yet. So, right now, anything that gives me income."

Andy tilts her head. "And you hate it?"

"I don't particularly like it."

"Because...?"

He sighs. "Because love songs don't make sense, and it's all bullshit."

Andy gasps. "But—love songs! Love songs are cute, they're romantic, and sweet. How could you hate them?"

Rhysand leans back. Doesn't say anything.

Andy purses her lips. "So what are you working on right now?"

"Nothing big," Rhysand mutters, looking away. "Small projects here and there."

"Why move to South Bend?"

"For that job offer I've been working small projects for. It's work at home, though."

"Why'd you leave your previous one?"

Rhysand's face is still blank, but his jaw clenches. "Next question."

Andy bristles at his cold tone. "Um, how many siblings do you have?"

"One."

He doesn't offer anything else. Andy slumps in her chair. "Are you close with your parents?"

"Somewhat."

The waiter comes back with their food, and the smell makes her stomach grumble once again. Rhysand pushes a plate towards her.

"Why did you ignore me?" Andy asks him. "Whenever I was at your place. I tried to say hi to you but you just ignored me and left."

"You pissed me off," Rhysand answers without hesitation, dropping a fork onto her plate. He looks at her. "Couldn't understand why, for the love of God, would anyone like Luke."

"I just did," Andy whispers, leaning back further into her chair.

Rhysand scoffed. "Why you would like him."

She takes a deep breath. "What does that mean?"

"It means he treated you like shit and you let it happen. I don't know if it's because you're extremely gullible and innocent, or dense or a pushover, or just because you're too fucking nice, sunshine."

Andy blinks. "You think I'm nice."

"Is that all you heard?" Rhysand snaps, eyebrows furrowing. "Eat, for Christ's sake, I can hear your stomach growling since twenty minutes ago."

Andy grins and digs in. "You haven't been to the bakeshop. Did you not finish the cheese tarts?"

"Jenner's keeping an eye on me," he answers gruffly. "Says I spend too much money on them. And they're not healthy."

"Tell him you're helping with our sales."

"Shut up and eat."

And Andy doesn't know why, but she laughs.

*

It goes on like that.

Dinners with Rhysand after work. Not every day, but enough days in a week. Sometimes, Jenner tags along. Most of the time, it's just Andy and him.

He waits for her outside Baked!, and Andy gifts him with a single piece of cheese tart when she comes outside—a thank you for the ride and company. Rhysand tries his best to hide it, but when Andy jumps in the passenger seat, he's already devoured the whole thing.

Andy thinks it's endearing—how much he loves what she made.

When she comes home at night, MJ and Sabina don't question her; only because they think she's spending extra time working or doing her homework at the local library. Andy's not sure why she hasn't told them yet, but she figures it's because it's not a big deal. Rhysand is a friend, and she doesn't want her roommates looking into something that isn't there.

Rhysand is still quiet. He lets Andy do most of the talking, but when she asks him something, he gives her short answers. Andy only tries to avoid broaching subjects about his previous job or his family. He doesn't seem fond of talking about those.

On Friday, Andy's dozing off during her last lecture when MJ texts her. don't come home yet. Adrian's here.

The name has her blinking. Her roommate hasn't talked about him in months. Whenever Sabina and Andy try to, she shuts them off and leaves, and doesn't come back until the wee hours of the morning.

So they stopped asking.

Andy types her response. Are you sure? I'm still in class but I can leave if Sab's out.

I'm sure. he wants to talk

Okay, Andy says, biting her bottom lip. Let me know if I need to come home and I'll be there in five.

Sabina's texts comes a few seconds after. THAT SON OF A BITCH IS IN OUR DORM AND THAT ORANGE HEAD IS EXPECTING US NOT TO COME HOME

Andy sighs. It's her decision. Trust her.

HE HURT HER AND LIED TO HER

I know, Andy sends, feeling the older's rage through the screen of her phone. Calm down. MJ knows what she's doing.

Sabina doesn't reply.

When they're dismissed, Andy packs her things slowly. She doesn't have work, and even though all she wants to do is to curl up and sleep, she can't come home.

So she texts Rhysand. Where are you? :D

His reply is instant. Home. Why?

Andy presses her fingers on the keypad. I know I don't have work today, and you're not obligated to hang out with me, but I've been exiled from my dorm room and I need some place to nap and work. Can I come over? :(

Rhysand doesn't reply immediately.

Andy rushes to type another text. Sorry. Ignore that! It was a silly suggestion!

But Rhysand responds before she could send it. It's just one line—their address.

Are you sure? :( I don't want to impose. Sorry for being straightforward. It was a silly suggestion.

Come over before I lock you out is Rhysand's reply.

And despite the exhaustion tugging at her bones, she smiles.

He sends another text. Do you have a ride

I borrowed MJ's car for the day! :D Thank you for offering! I'll be there in twenty! A barrage of emojis follow her message, and Rhysand doesn't bother replying.

She makes a stop near the campus to get coffee and hot chocolate first before heading to the parking lot. She's not sure how Rhysand likes his coffee, but she hopes that he'll like it.

Andy arrives fifteen minutes later in front of a two-story house painted gray and white. She hops out of the car and locks it, and peers up at the balcony and windows encased in glass.

With the warm drinks in hand, she heads to the front door and reaches up on her tiptoes to ring the doorbell, but stops herself in time to notice the little space between the doorframe. Rhysand left it open for her already.

Her cheeks warming at the gesture, she lets herself in. "Rhysand?" she calls, then cringes at the loudness of her voice amidst the quiet home. No response. "Jenner?"

No response either.

Andy frowns and takes off her shoes, then walks straight into the hallway. The dining and living room are spacious and cozy, but empty. She calls for both names again, but she's met with silence.

Sighing, she carefully climbs the stairs.

Multiple doors greet her. She raps her knuckles on the first door on the left with difficulty. "Rhysand?"

"In here," his voice drawls, and she whips around to find him standing on the opposite side of the hallway.

The first thing Andy notices is his hair—it's shaggy and more messed up than usual that it covers his eyes. He's in a black shirt paired with a gray jacket and sweatpants, and around his neck are headphones.

Andy smiles. "Hi. You shouldn't have left the door open. What if somebody else came in?"

He ignores her concern and tips his chin up at the cup she's holding. "That for me?"

"Oh, yes!" Andy strides over to him. "I'm not sure if it's your taste. I guessed. Sorry if it's too sweet."

Rhysand takes a sip in answer. To her delight, his face doesn't change—doesn't scrunch in disgust. He only steps aside to let her through.

Andy flashes him another sweet grin in thanks and enters the room, then gasps. "This is your studio?"

He doesn't give her a response, but the stuff around confirms Andy's thoughts. Rhysand settles on the chair opposite the desk filled with sound equipment and computers. "You can stay here if you want. Or downstairs. I don't really care as long as you don't mess shit up."

"I don't mess things up," Andy says in defense, pouting a little as she sets her bag down on the small couch adjacent to his work space. "Wow, this is so cool."

Rhysand turns away from her and puts on his headphones.

Andy looks around. Everything here screams work and music—there's nothing of Rhysand's that would seem to be a personal belonging. No pictures, no books, no personalized mug (not that she expects him to have one like she does; it was a gift from MJ a few months ago), no scraps of notes with his handwriting. It seems lonely.

Andy finishes the last of her chocolate drink and lies down on the couch. In the next heartbeat, she's asleep.

When she wakes up, there's a blanket over her body.

And later, when Andy and Sabina ask MJ about Adrian, she just shrugs it off and says it was nothing, but the redness around her eyes say otherwise.

*

please let me know what you think in the comments! they make my day c:

are you in uni? what's your major? i'm in my sophomore year and i'm majoring in communication arts!