Temptation

-47-

-Andy's POV-

I was awake when I heard the tentative knock on the door. It was hell-knows what early hour in the morning, and, on any other occasion, I would've been fast asleep. But, since the fight – If you could even call it that – with Rye, I'd had trouble sleeping. Time lost its meaning as I waited for him to reply, waited for some sign, any faint trace of hope, that I hadn't completely ruined the best thing in my life.

By all means, I hadn't really wanted to tell him, but the truth had a funny way of making itself known, and I would rather he hear it from me rather than anybody else. I wanted him to trust me, to prove myself loyal in the ways that Sophie hadn't been. After my confession, though, there was nothing left that I could do. Since he wouldn't pick up the phone, I could only pray that my actions would prove to be louder than words, louder than his own damn thoughts and insecurities. If there was anything that I was good at, though, it was waiting – And, for Rye, I always would.

I'd told my mum about it over tea and tears – How I was so in awe of him, of everything that he was. I told her about his beautiful brown eyes and how he was never satisfied with his hair, just like me – And how I thought that it was perfect anyways, even all tousled and snarly when he first woke up in the morning. I told her how I'd felt that spark from the very first moment that we met, and how I'd never quite been able to get rid of it, no matter how hard I tried. His smile always gave me butterflies, his laughter made me glow, and it was always him that I wanted to be close to, that my heart kept going back to. He'd been such a tease, too – Letting us kiss and hold hands and cuddle, driving me crazy even when it was only ever just a joke to him. I'd stayed up at night then, playing back the feeling of his lips on mine, obsessing over how he'd called me handsome, thinking that, maybe, somewhere down the line, I'd have a chance.

I told her how I'd listened to him speak about Sophie like there was nobody else in the world, how I could tell how much he loved her. How I'd have been willing to watch them get married, without ever getting a taste of his love, if it would've meant that he'd have been happy. I told her that I was certain that that boy would kill me, if my asthma didn't get me first. I told her the story of finding Sophie cheating, of the book of dares, and how it changed everything.

It was so hard, when we first started out. It was hard because I could see that he was hurting and I couldn't push it more than I already was. I'd wanted to tell him to forget about her and to love me instead, but I knew better than anyone that you can't control who you love. It was harder than ever before, because anyone who truly loved him wouldn't use him like that. I was angry because I never would, because I couldn't ask him to be mine, because of all of the close calls and almost kisses that were driving me damn crazy. I was mad all the way up to that night, a few days after his confrontation with Sophie at the mall, when my heart had hurt so much as I held him crying in the bathroom that I would've killed her if I would've – When he let me lay beside him. When he made the first move, when I'd been half asleep and half dreaming, almost uncertain that it had even been reality.

I told my mum that I loved him so much that it hurt, and that it ached even more to think, to almost know, that he was questioning that fact. That, maybe, even after everything, he didn't feel the same way anymore. My mum had listened, and then told me she was sorry that she couldn't do more. She told me that she hated seeing me so upset, and that, if it was meant to be, it would be. She said that she could tell that I loved him, almost feel what I felt with how I described it, and that he was lucky to have me. She'd squeezed my hand and said, no matter what, to not let the world change my heart. She said that she was proud of me for having a kind and steady heart, even in a world like this, and that I should be proud of myself, too.

It was harder, though, to feel that way, when I wasn't quite sure if wearing Rye's hoodie was the closest I would ever be to him again. I was still wearing it now, as I set my guitar aside and wearily went to open the door. Making music was the only thing that kept me from dropping everything to go and see him. This time, I needed to give him space to figure thing out. For all I knew, he hated me now and would kick me right off of his doorstep. Maybe he had even gone back to Sophie.

I told myself to stop thinking about him for five fucking seconds and see who was at mine. I cautiously opened the door, hoping that it wasn't some prank or murderer, and it took me a moment to realize who it actually was. When I did, my heart nearly flew out of my chest and right into his arms. It was him.

"Rye?" I breathed out, my voice tilting up like a question despite the fact that it wasn't one. I didn't care if I was deaf and blind and hadn't been with him for ten years – I would always, always be able to recognize him in a heartbeat. He didn't reply, merely crossed the threshold into my house and into my arms, where he clutched onto me so tightly it was as if we were all that existed of the world. I could feel the tips of my toes lift off of the ground as he held on, but still, neither of us let go. We stayed there for what felt like forever, forming back into one once again. He muttered an "I'm sorry" against the top of my head, but it didn't matter – Nothing did.

We were finally where we belonged.

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The next chapter is the epilogue...hopefully yous don't hate me too much?

Since this is technically the 'last' chapter, it felt right to bring it back to Andy's POV and to have a glimpse into how he's felt during all of this. What did yous think of this chapter? x