𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ||【 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕚 𝕏 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕏 𝔼𝕣𝕨𝕚𝕟】

|13| Up for Good? ✔️

2 years later

"Andrew!" I yelled from the kitchen, still holding a frying pan in one hand. I'd just flipped an omelet, but of course, Andrew was in his room, blasting Seven Nation Army like the dumbass he is. The number of complaints we're going to get—I could already feel the headache coming on.

"What?" he practically shouted over the music, yanking his door open just enough to stick his head out. I turned toward the hallway, locking eyes with him.

"One: you're going to get us another noise complaint. Two: what the hell do you want in your omelet?"

He stepped into the hallway, pausing his music just as See Me Fall started playing. Tragic timing.

"A shit ton of cheese, please," he said, strolling into the kitchen. He grabbed a fork and stabbed it into the omelet I'd just made, taking a bite without hesitation.

"Hot! Hot!" he shouted, dropping the fork and fanning his mouth as steam came out.

"Dumbass," I muttered, shaking my head as I added cheese to the pan for his omelet.

Andrew and I are both 21 now—he'll be 22 in a few months. We've been living together for the past year and a half. No college, no pressure. Just us, best friends, figuring life out as we go.

"Tastes good," he said, going in for another bite like he hadn't just burned the hell out of his mouth. This time, no shouting.

"You'd think you'd learn after the first time," I said, flipping his omelet onto a plate.

"It tastes good!" he replied, voice muffled by a mouthful of egg.

I rolled my eyes, tossing the pan into the sink.

"Moron," I muttered, grabbing my plate out of his hands and taking a seat at the island, staring at the blank TV.

"You've spoken Japanese for two years, and I still don't understand a damn word," Andrew said, dropping into the seat beside me. He handed me a fork while digging into his own food.

"That's the point," I replied, stabbing a bite of omelet and shoving it into my mouth.

He hummed, then stood up, chewing as he grabbed the remote.

Andrew's changed a lot since high school—in a good way. He's 5'11, with naturally loose, curly black hair and olive green eyes that stand out against his tan skin. A bit of stubble dotted his jaw—he hadn't shaved this morning. He wore a black t-shirt and black Adidas joggers, as usual. On his wrist were two bracelets—one was a metal band, the other a string bracelet that read bad bitch. We made those together one night. I have a matching one.

He also has tattoos. A small cross on the middle finger of his right hand, and a full-black Charizard inked across his left forearm. He's a huge Pokémon nerd. It was kind of dorky—but the tattoo actually looked badass, so I let him have it.

As for me? I've changed, too.

I'd added more piercings—two lobe piercings in each ear, an obsidian stud and a diamond one stacked on the left, and the same on the right plus an orbital piercing with a diamond hoop.

Physically, I'd filled out. My body finally caught up to adulthood. Andrew dragged me to the gym every day, and I even took a boxing class on weekends. My style stayed the same, though: comfy and casual. At the moment, I'm wearing grey joggers and a black, long sleeved shirt that hugs my upper body in all the right ways.

I sighed through my nose and took another bite, staring past the black TV screen. A lot's changed since the incident. We've both matured more than I ever expected.