Live Again (an Andy Biersack love story)

Ch. 15-Sugar, We're Going Down

Back to Andy and Jez! Yay! Or maybe not...

Andy's POV:

Jez was finally starting to warm up to me. I was beyond shocked and excited when she agreed to come back to my apartment with me. Even more when she seemed comfortable just laying around with me. She ended up falling asleep again right after the video, this time curled up in my lap. I was actually aching to kiss her. I mean, I'm usually not this forward with girls, but Jez was different. I just don't know how. I liked touching her, though. Not even in a sexual way, just something as simple as holding her hand or touching her hair. Part of it was because I felt like if I didn't, she would just fade away and disappear forever. The other part was just to remind her, and me, for that matter, that she was real. That this was happening. That I didn't dream meeting this perfectly imperfect girl. The only thing that worried me was that she'd think I was being too clingy, and would try to distance herself from me.

As my thoughts turned I could feel my dreams turn, getting darker, making her run farther and farther away. She was screaming and crying, shouting at me that I'd betrayed her, that I ruined it, that-

I woke up to her lips softly pressing against my cheek. My eyes opened. We were laying in my bed, our legs tangled together and the rest of her pressed tightly against me. Thank god.

"Hey, are you okay? You looked like you were having a nightmare." She said softly, concern in her eyes. I leaned down and kissed her gently, her lips moving hesitantly against mine. I could've screamed with excitement. I ran my tongue gently over her lip and she opened her mouth to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I softly started rubbing her waist, earning a sigh of content from Jez. After a moment, I let my finger tips trail over her hips, and she pulled back

"Andy you can't keep doing this to me," she said, and tried detaching herself from me, but I locked my arms around her. She glared weakly at me.

"Just please don't go," I hated how weak I sounded. She instantly looked sympathetic.

"Was your nightmare about her?" She asked. Part of me wanted to lie, just so she'd stay, but I couldn't trick her like that.

"No," I whispered, easily pulling her back to my chest. "In my dream you were running away from me, shouting about how much you hated me, how I ruined everything." She tensed a little.

"Was it raining?"

"Pouring. I could still hear you over the rain, thought."

"At night in kind of a deserted area?" I looked at her, confused.

"How do you know all this?" She managed to slip out of my grasp.

"That happened, Andy. Just not with you."

"Wait, what?" Now my dreams are like memories that aren't even mine?

"That was with John. The one who hurt me. I definitely can't do this if you're having dreams from his perspective." She continued backing away from me, her feet eventually hitting the floor. She backed out of the room, keeping her eyes on me. It took me way too long to figure out what was going on. I could practically feel her slipping through my fingers. I caught her at the front door.

"Jez, wait, please," I begged, careful not to touch her, even though all I wanted to do was gather her up in my arms and protect her from the world.

"I can't," she whispered.

"Please, I need you here, Jez. I swear on my life and on Juliet's memory that I would never, ever, in a billion and three years hurt you." I was so close to actually getting on my knees and begging.

"You wouldn't believe how many times he said that, too." She said softly. My only comfort was that she hadn't walked out yet.

"I mean it, Jez, please, I don't want to know what could happen if you're gone." I said it softly. I didn't like admitting what happened to me when I lost someone I cared about.

"What about Juliet, then? This doesn't feel wrong to you by her memory? Or did you ever even care about her? Or were you the reason she pulled the trigger in the first place?" Insane rage and sorrow welled up in me. All I could think of after she died was every fight we'd ever had, every wrong thing I'd ever said, if it pulled the trigger more than her. I raised my hand to run my hand through my hair, and she flinched violently. All the rage disappeared at that action. I completed the movement, and she blushed a little. That protectiveness came back, but the sorrow she forced back on to my shoulders over powered it.

"If you think I would ever hit a woman, or do anything to push anyone towards suicide, then you can just leave. You're obviously not who I thought you were, who I thought I needed." I said emotionlessly, and just walked away. It took all my strength not to run back to her when she started crying. I dropped into my bed, snapping a rubber band against my wrist a few times. It stung, but made me feel a lot better. Pain was more reliable than people, anyway.

I couldn't sleep. I never could after arguments, even though I always ended up in my bed. I snapped the band again. And again. I lost count of how many times. It was a subconscious action, seeing as I was lost in thought. As always, after an argument, my head was in a power struggle between my natural compassion and my pride. Most of the time my pride won out. This time, though, I don't think it could afford to. With a sigh, I stood up, and walked out into the living room again. Jez was wedged in the doorway, sobbing. I walked over to her expressionlessly, and picked her up bridal style once more, carrying her into my room. I laid her lightly down on the bed, then stretched out on my back. I didn't touch her after I laid her down. I was still too prideful to try to comfort her. She didn't wait for me, though, and curled up against my side, crying into my shirt.

"I'm sorry," she cried, pressing her face into me. "I hurt everyone I touch." I sighed, and wrapped my arms around her. She gasped a little, but moved closer. "How do you not hate me? I'm a horrible person," She asked, clutching handfuls of my shirt.

"Because I need you." I said simply, and stroked her hair until she calmed down.

"I'm sorry I'm such an awful person, I didn't mean any of that. I'm just scared," she whispered.

"Don't be." I replied, and kissed her forehead.

"You don't understand," she said. "I'm scared because I like you. A lot. And all the people I like end up leaving, or hurting me or being hurt themselves. I'm tired of being hurt." I traced circles on her back to calm her down.

"I won't hurt you, Jez. No matter what. I promise." She shook her head.

"I don't want you to get hurt, either, though." I smiled a little.

"I thought you'd have seen by now, I don't care. I really like you, Jezebel."

"I like you too, Andrew," she smiled a little. "Which is why I don't want you hurt." I kissed her knuckles.

"I still don't care if I'm hurt. If I get to spend time with you, it's worth it."