I’ve Been Fed Gold

by Clumsyletters

Summary:

It’s funny how people come into your life.

At the end of a gruelling tour when Andrew- the ever cynical musician becomes entangled in conversation with the anonymous woman behind a new Dublin, bookstore’s Instagram, he’d never had guessed how it would end…

New friends are always welcome but happens when the lines between friend and lover become thinner and thinner?

(Idk guys I fucking hate writing these blurbs, just read it please x it’s very will they won’t they, very, very wild, plz enjoy)

Chapter 1

Andrew

The store was amazing, just as I thought it would be.
It was half of an old, old building just off the main road and it had this big glass facade. Said facade would lend the place to being light and airy but instead it was dark and warm. I couldn't remember what the space had been before this, somehow it seemed like it had always been this store- though I know in reality it had only been open two weeks and before the bookstore, it had been empty for years.

I liked how the establishment demanded to be accepted and slid into Dublin like it had been there since the first brick was laid.

The high ceilings were draped with dark velvet and the walls were painted a red so rich it was almost brown. Though the colour itself was hard to find behind all the wall decor, posters of movies and books and old ads were plastered across every free patch of architectural flesh. It appeared old and lived in and yet it wasn’t.

To the left of myself as I stood in the entrance, was a small cafe area, there was an older man at the coffee machine- at least 75. His hair was like rabbit fur, stark white and wispy in a way that seemed soft, as he made the drinks he had a sweet smile across his face.

There were at least five people already drinking coffee, every single one of them were reading, sat in big leather chairs or beanbags or even the window nook that faced the full, rainy street.

To the right was the shop itself, with rows upon rows of dark mahogany shelves stocked with crisp, new books. There were small trinkets on many of the surfaces, my eyes were particularly drawn to a little felt frog in a bowler suit that sat on the new arrivals shelf.

The place was the epitome of new, embryonic even and yet it already oozed with personality. Despite how my first impression of the shop had pulled me in so tightly all I wanted to do was sit and read. I wasn’t here for that.

I was here for her. Clodagh.

She was just a friend, a like minded soul- and I didn't even know what she looked like but my heart was jumping out of my chest as I scanned the store for any sign of what could be her- of what matched the description I'd slowly created based on no more than how she cleverly strung words together.

"Beautiful..." I murmured as I finally saw a glimpse of the woman I somehow just knew I was looking for. She was taller than I’d imagined, all dark curly hair and bronze skin.

"Sorry?" I glanced up to see a man, far closer to me than I’d noticed. He was equally as eye catching, he had an arm full of books that he was clearly about to pack up. I examined a large tattoo on his forearm, a sparrow I think.

"Your store- the store is- ehm yeah, it's beautiful. Is that Clodagh by any chance?" I asked, trying not to be rude and stare past the man but I was fixated as I tried to get another glance in.

He gave me a smirk, as if he knew something I didn't, and then nodded.

"Clo! Ya' being asked for!" He turned around and bellowed, his voice somewhat strained as he yelled. I instantly went pink, I'd been hoping for a more subtle entrance.

I looked down at my houndstooth coat and immediately started plucking small pieces of fluff from it, as if she'd take one look at me and decide I was too lint covered to be seen with.

I'd dressed up for her, Is that bad to say? Is it presumptuous to do? Well, regardless, I had.

“Be cool. She knows you’re coming.” The man then said, smiling at me in a way that made me feel both a little stupid, and very supported.

Clodagh started walking towards us, her gate was smooth, almost like she was walking on a treadmill and her hair was long, dark brown and full of big open curls. It swung as she walked, her face wasn't fully revealed to me until she actually reached us.

"Christ James. We've been open a week, who have you pissed off this ti- Ah, Hozier, of course." She hummed as she looked at me. Her stare kind of made me shrink, she gave me the distinct feeling she could see my soul with just a look. Despite my hundred layers of clothes, I felt exposed.

"So nice to grace us with your presence." Her voice was like the chocolatey sip of a cappuccino, deep, smooth and sweet. Then I really looked at her.

Jesus.

———

Early March

"Alex, Facebook? Really?" I chastised jovially as I clambered my way past my bassist who was sprawled across the tan leather lounge in our tour bus rather selfishly. His phone was open in his lap, he was scrolling through Dublin's notice board.

I couldn't blame him, we were 12 shows from home, in the unforgiving Australian heat. I was homesick more than I'd like to admit.

"Yep. I'm old, Facebook must now become my go to social media I'm 'fraid." He grinned lazily, still in his flying outfit of black sweats and an olive green shirt.

"Aye, 28 you're practically wasting away in front of me- anything interesting on the el' platform then?" I asked, practically collapsing into a chair beside the lounge. My body, 90% limb and back pain was exhaustedly limp.

Another month in this fucking bus.

He shrugged.

"Dublin's getting a new bookstore." He said, his voice somewhat excited. I scoffed a little, Dublin was an old city, we didn't need yet another bookstore.

"Christ- why?" I asked, perhaps a little coldly. I wasn't against bookstores but I can't imagine this one would offer anything particularly innovative to the Dublin book scene.

Alex laughed, widening his eyes.

"Jesus, it's just a bookstore. I thought you'd be excited you filthy little bookworm." He snickered, still scrolling idly through his phone. I thought it was funny that he assumed both that bookworm was an insult and that my broken reading of half a poetry book here and there constituted bookwormedness anyway.

"Sure like- we just have a lot, what's it called?"

"Ehm two birds swimming." He answered, scrolling back up to find it, giving me a quick glimpse of the profile. I shrugged and tried not to say something rude.

"Kinda pretentious."

——

That night, when it was 10 am at home and 2am here, when my eyes, burning from a perpetual lack of sleep and the constant dryness that came with sleeping in air conditioning, I opened Instagram.

The first post I was met with was a picture of an old book with tattered edges and a yellowing cover. It was "At Swim-Two-Birds." By Flann O'Brien. "The Third Policeman" was a favourite of mine. I hadn't yet read this one though (despite the fact it was apparently his Magnum Opus.) I glanced down to see first the user name (@twobirdswimming) and the caption:

Well Dublin, it's happening!
207 D'Olier street, December 1st,
Your new favourite book store is opening.

I wanted to text Alex and slag him off for using Facebook when the bookstore he was so excited about was clearly on instagram as well- but, I decided not to risk interrupting his sleep.

I smiled at the post itself and let myself click the username to see the rest of the profile, we didn't need another bookstore but that didn't mean I didn't want to browse the profile.

Their posts were varied, a lot of book reviews, the occasional think piece... At first it seemed pretty standard but I slowly found myself reading almost every post. It was a sort of intoxicating page and I wasn’t becoming gradually more familiar with the voice behind the profile. It seemed that the account started just as a platform to share thoughts on books and poetry as well as the occasional piece written by whoever owned the account. I supposed it was kind of sweet that they eventually got to open their own store.

Something in me urged me to keep scrolling, to keep diving into posts. It became quickly clear that the account was run by a single person with a distinct voice, dry and witty...

I was mildly surprised and admittedly impressed when I saw the account had over 100k followers. I wasn't sure if it was the warm, dark aesthetic of the page or the dry humour of the captions and articles but I found myself eventually pressing follow, joining the hundred thousand people who had done so before me.

@twobirdsswimming - An impromptu follow *and* a like on a photo from two years ago? Hozier, you're flattering me.

My eyes widened at the DM and I looked down at the post I'd accidentally liked from indeed, two years ago. The account was verified and so any interaction from them gave me a notification. For some reason my heart started to race and I was determined to respond with something at least mildly witty.

There was an unfounded urge in me to impress. I was somewhat apprehensive, usually I wouldn't respond to something like this...

- Can't blame me for wanting to support a local business, can you?

- You're right. Is there any way and I mean ANY way that I could repay you for the single like on a photo from two years ago that doesn't pertain in any way shape or form to my business?

A low chuckle warmed in my throat at the message and I sucked my teeth, my thumbs hovering over my screen as I thought of a response. I was used to a different calibre of impromptu online conversation, I often got requests for collaborations or shout outs or just messages preaching how amazing I was to them.

If only they knew...

- Of course not, I did it out of the kindness of my heart.

- Wow, I'm forever indebted to you

- Don't mention it.

I groaned at my response the second I sent it, it was far too closed. I probably wouldn't get a reply... I wanted to get a reply- why did I want a reply?

- I mean, I can offer a free cup of some pretty wicked tea when you visit us but only if you buy at least 10 books

I was confused at how my heart jumped when I got the message, she had replied. Or- or he, they?

I had no idea who I was talking to and yet I wanted to continue. I had to continue, I wasn't sure why this felt so wrong. Michelle, my girlfriend's face popped into my mind- I wasn't sure why. This wasn't disloyal, this was just friendly conversation, with an absolute stranger.

- That feels like an apt payment

- I'll see you opening day?

- I'm not back in Ireland until the 8th

- What a shame, I really could've used someone famous to bump up the press, we need a good first day.

- You just want to use me? After all I've done for you?

- It's a dog eat dog world

I chuckled and placed my phone face down on my chest. Perhaps it was boredom, on the road I only really had my phone to keep me entertained. I couldn't write- it wasn't the right place, I needed and time and space to open myself up to writing. Management occasionally whipped something crazy up to keep us all from going stir crazy, a trip to a bowling alley, a fucking bouncy castle in a venue car park- but none of it really attacked the monotony of travel.

Occasionally Michelle would visit and life felt a little better then, I hated sleeping alone.

I needed to go sleep now and yet I didn't, instead opting to respond and respond and respond.

Over the next few weeks this conversation would only progress. We talked about work and travel and literature and politics- I wasn't sure how I'd grown so attached to the anonymous admin of a bookstore page- but I had and I made it a point to reply promptly to all the messages I received from them.

It was never enough though, they wouldn't give up any identifying information, no matter how I pried. I knew they were the manager and co-owner of the store though and found myself desperate to get home, to visit.

I even thought about asking my mother to pop in and spy for me, but the questions she'd no doubt ask me before and after made it not worth pursuing.

———

- Good song choice

I swiped up on a story of theirs, it was a video of the new releases on the shelf, a familiar smashing pumpkins track playing in the back. I responded to a lot of her (or his or their) posts, they always replied to my response.

- From you? What a compliment.

- That felt sarcastic

- Just a little. How's the road treating you today, Andrew?

I groaned, I'd be home in four days, just four more days until I'd meet her-

- Exhaustingly..... ?

- Clodagh

My breath hitched a little, I was in my bunk, texting them as I usually did and I'd finally gotten a tiny piece of information, a name. Clodagh, a woman. A woman with a nice Irish name.

- Nice Irish name

- It's better than Andrew, sure.

- Feck off.

- I only told you what it was so you know who to ask for when you finally visit the store

- I thought you only wanted me on opening day to up sales? I told you I won't be home til the 8th

- Andrew, Andrew no, I will happily use your fame for sales on any day. Opening day would probably take advantage of your notoriety the most but I'll take anything.

- Sweet of you to say. I'll probably see you on the 9th

I was trying to be casual but realistically she'd definitely be seeing me the second I could get to Dublin. It'd been weeks of back and forth texting, I wanted to meet her.

I had to meet her.

———
Present.

She was looking at me expectantly, I needed to say something but I found myself frustratingly speechless.

She was- shit, she was ethereal, almost six feet tall with a prominent, straight nose, covered in freckles, a demure smile of plump lips painted rust brown. I wondered where she was from as I examined her warm, light brown skin that was decorated with a spattering of artistic tattoos.

Her body was just as captivating as her face, she was very tall but she wasn't lanky. She was delicate but warm, with curves that almost didn't seem possible, in tight red jeans that made my head spin.

But none of that could compare to what caught my gaze first. Those eyes. She had long, thick, black eyelashes and almond shaped eyes that were downturned in the outer corners- the colour was what really struck me though. They were honey brown- no, not brown, gold. Her irises were almost like the sun- producing their own light, their own glow.

I decided quickly that was the most impossible thing about her. In fact, had I not watched the warm lamps in store bounce light off of the umber below her lashes- I'd have been certain they were contacts.

"Clodagh..." I murmured awkwardly, pushing my hand out to shake it. As I glanced at the man in front of me it was obvious they were siblings, they looked uncannily alike.

"That's not how you greet an old friend is it? C'mere." She grinned revealing a perfect smile, one that I sort of wanted painted on the inside of my eyes...

Before I could do anything she was hugging me. Her body was soft and so warm. She smelled like Turkish rose and cocoa butter, it intoxicated me like smoke.

I let my hands melt into the soft curve of her waist, squeezing just a little before forcing myself to let go. It felt wrong to hold her in such a way but Michelle had broken up with me while I was in Brisbane. The distance was too much, she never saw me, etcetera. It was the same reason I’d broken up with my last girlfriends but Michelle and I had been together for three years, I’d grown used to the assumption I’d marry her- and then she left.

Clodagh smiled again, or perhaps she hadn't stopped, her eyes locked on mine in a gaze that would trap any man.

"So, are you about to hop on a plane to play some million seat arena or can I tempt you to a coffee? We even have profiteroles but James made them so I can't speak to their quality." She smirked, my eyes lingered on her for probably far too long. She chuckled slightly, the sound was like a bubbling brook or the warm crackle of a fire.

"Just kidding, they're grand, I've already eaten like 4." She told me, to fill the silence, offering a small wink.

"Ehm I've already eaten but some coffee would be grand if that's okay?" I smiled, nerves slowly dissolving from my body. There was something about her that put me at ease. It was as if she'd slapped a nicotine patch on me when we'd hugged and the calming drug was oozing into my skin. (I was trying, with varying levels of success, to quit smoking.)

"Of course." She smiled as she began walking quickly to the cafe side of the store. Her pace was oddly fast and I found myself speeding up to match her.

She stopped in front of the coffee machine, the old man I'd seen earlier looked up at gave me a sceptical gaze, his grey blue eyes hovering over me uncertainly.

"Clyde, this is Andrew. He sings that new song you like." Clodagh explained. Clodagh, Clodagh- have I mentioned that she has a beautiful name yet? Her brother had called her Clo, I wanted to call her Clo.

"Ah do ye now? Sure, what'd you like?" The old man, Clyde, exclaimed in the thickest Scottish accent I'd ever heard. I stopped myself from letting out a shocked laugh and instead absorbed the compliment.

"We'll have two large lattes, thanks Clyde-
Oh- lady told me that you made her the best cappuccino she ever had this morning by the way." She hummed, not giving me a chance to order for myself. He shrugged and smiled at us proudly.

"Well I've been making coffee longer than you've both been alive." He boasted in a way that was enduring rather than arrogant, making both Clodagh and I laugh.

The wait for our coffees wasn't long and when they were presented to us in old coffee mugs (mine was cream with a navy print of a sheep on it, hers was in the shape of a tuberous flower, in a warm golden yellow.) Clodagh was quick to grab them as we both thanked Clyde.

"Is a he a Movement fan?" I asked, cracking a smile as we took our drinks to a table near the window. We didn't speak about where we'd sit but we both gravitated to this table naturally.

She gave me a half laugh and swatted her hand, shaking her head.

"No, he likes sedated." She explained, making me furrow my brows in mild confusion.

"That's hardly new." I replied watching as she smirked a little. Those golden, almost yellow eyes sparkled at me like the sun on the sea.

"Andrew he's 92, 2014 was like yesterday for him." She smiled charmingly, raising her thick, almost black brows. She was funny. God, it almost wasn't fair.

"Jesus, I thought he was like 75... The lad's looking good." I replied, smiling as I took a sip of the latte which, despite not being my usual order, was fantastic.

She laughed, but this time it was more of a giggle, the sound ran down my spine like hot water after a long day.

"I'll tell him you said that, you two can have a nice long chat about skincare. He can give you some tips, what are you forty?" She teased in her silken, liquid gold kind of voice.

"Forty two. Tell him that this coffee is in fact insanely good though." I instructed, watching a satisfied smile bloom over her face, my eyes still caught in her golden gaze.

"So why did you order for me?" I then asked, not being upset by the gesture but having been at least a little confused.

"You don't know this yet but you have to be careful with Clyde, he'll talk your damn ear off. Have you seen Derry Girls?" She asked me, a sweet lilt to the end of her question made my heart jump.

"O'course." I answered, it wasn't really my usual thing but it was Irish and I'd ended up really enjoying it. I'd certainly watch the next season when it came out.

"Think Colm, but Scottish and angrier." She explained, her pink tongue darting out to lick froth from her lips...

"Ah, makes sense. How did it come to be that you hired a 93 year old barista?" I asked curiously, everything about her made me curious. Why had she opened the store? Was James her brother and co-owner? Where did she live? Was she single? Was she straight?

She had given me barely any information about herself and her motives over text. The lack of knowledge about her made me prickly with anticipation and frustration.

"He used to be my neighbour, he's a dear friend and a great barista. He lives alone, he used to own like a huge coffee chain- he's feckin' loaded but I dunno he just loves people, loves Grouchy too." She hummed, making my eyebrows knit.

"Who's Grouchy?" I asked in confusion. She nodded, having expected the question but before she could answer, a fat, gingery cat leapt into my lap.

"That is Grouchy. I promise she's very friendly despite the name." Clodagh chuckled, I generally wasn't a cat person but as the little thing nuzzled her head against my hand I couldn't help but start petting her.

"You guys have the same eyes... Is she yours?" I murmured as the cat's orangey, yellow face met mine. I then immediately regretted the statement.

"Ha, we kind of do. Her, James and I have the same creepy stare. She is technically mine but she's kind of just the store cat at this point, I have a dog so she spends the evenings at Clyde's. She was a rescue and a female ginger cat is rare and book people love cats- she really brings in the business." Clodagh beamed, though I didn't think her stare was creepy by any means.

"I imagine she does, I don't even like cats-"

"Andrew- Andrew! What do you mean you don't like cats? I didn't pick you for a dog person." She gasped in faux outrage, her eyes wide with shock.

"Well- I just think- they're often not very affectionate I guess, dogs love you regardless there’s something reassuring about that."

"That's why cats are better, you have to earn their love and you must be a pretty good guy because Grouchy really seems to love you." She mused happily. I rolled my eyes but I was smiling uncontrollably. I was for some reason a little worried that we wouldn't get on, but we did, like- a lot.

"So, can I grab your number?" She asked me sweetly. The question took me by surprise. My heart was now thudding and I felt my mouth going dry.

"Oh or- is that like not how making friends works for famous people? Do I have to go through your manager or something?" She asked confusedly at my silence. I chuckled, clearing my throat and shaking my head.

"No, ha no, no. I ehm, yeah, just let me grab your phone, I'll put it in."

And that my friends, was the beginning of the end.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Notes:

Ugh back with these two again…

Enjoy X

Clodagh

"So can I grab your number?"

I regretted the question as soon as I asked, was that too forward? I suppose in person we'd only spoken for twenty minutes or so, it just felt like we had chemistry- in a platonic way, of course.

I wasn't sure how his fame intersected with his daily life- did it make things like this different? Did he think I was some kind of leech?

He looked up at me from his coffee- Jesus, he was a looker. I knew what he looked like. I'd known of his existence well before he knew of mine but I'd stalked all of his respective social media in the last few weeks, creating an assumed persona- in person he was different.

His eyes were verdant half moons, protected by long dark lashes and brows so well structured that I had to wonder if he got them professionally done. He didn't seem like the type to care enough to do that though...

What I hadn't known before meeting him was that he'd be so deliciously tall, 6'6 at least.

And- I liked his hair. It was long, long enough to reach his collarbones and it was magnificently curly- the kind of mop you just wanted to run your fingers through.

Not that I ever would.

"Oh or is that not how famous people make friends, do I have to go through your manager or something?" I asked genuinely in response to his awkward silence. I supposed I hadn't really considered his fame until today, I guess he had to be careful about who he gave his personal number out to.

He stuttered a little but shook his head.

"Just let me grab your phone and I'll put it in." He smiled awkwardly, I handed him my phone to which he swiftly added his number.

When he handed my phone back I was looking at a new contact.

"Andy 🎸"

"Why the guitar?" I asked with fake confusion, he rolled his eyes, smiling as he did.

"Piss off." He rolled his eyes, the statement soft on his tongue and sliding from his lips easily. I raised a brow and nodded.

"How was the rest of tour?" I asked him, trailing the tip of my finger around the ceramic rim of my coffee cup, watching excess froth gather along my fingertip. His brows raised and he shrugged. We'd discussed the nature of his tour quite a lot over the last few weeks, it didn't sound like something I'd ever want to do.

"Eh- good, good, I do love to tour and you get a second wind for the last few shows but I am exhausted. I've been hung over and jet lagged for 24 hours and standing still feels crazy, but I'm glad to be home." He hummed, licking thick, creamy froth from his upper lip swiftly.

"Ah ye came to my beautiful store hungover?!" I asked in faux offence, papering my hand over my chest- mildly surprised by how my heart thumped.

He cracked a smile, tilting his head to the side and nodding as he scrunched his beautiful eyes closed.

"F'raid so, love." He whispered, his smile still catching my gaze like a fly in a trap. It wasn't lost on me how my heart fluttered at the sound of him calling me love.

"That is not very good form, you're supposed to be upping business." I criticised jokingly, watching carefully as his face bloomed into a guilty smile.

"Doesn't look like you need it." He said, this time a little more serious.

"You're right, we're doing quite well." I agreed, looking around the shop that was indeed full of patrons. Opening this place had been a risk that- and although it was too early to tell- had seemingly paid off.

"What did you do before this? I don't think I ever asked." He hummed, sipping on his drink slowly, his throat contracting and his sharp Adams apple bobbing with the gulp.

"You did. I uh didn't answer you." I said with a slightly embarrassed smile. I wasn't ashamed of my past, but it didn't really reflect me anymore. Over text, Andrew had asked many questions about me and my life, I'd answered only few. I felt more open in person...

His brows jumped at my response and he nodded in remembrance.

"Okay... So... tell me now?" He smiled cheesily, his bright white teeth made for a very charming smile. I bit my lip and rolled my eyes.

"I was a model." I groaned with a chuckle, smiling over my drink at him, men often had notable responses to this. His brows raised again but then he tilted his head and nodded.

"That makes sense, why did you stop?" He responded smoothly, my heart jumped slightly and I swallowed. His words echoed through me. Why did it make sense to him? Did he find me attractive?

"Uh I stopped because it got really bad for me and my self esteem- and my brother-James, and I had finally pooled enough money to open this place." I explained, not really wanting to dive into the shit fight of mental illness my prior vocation had left me.

"Well this place is amazing and... if I'm being honest wit' you. I actually didn't think it would be." Somehow how he managed to say those words without coming off as an absolute arsehole.

"Why not?" I probed, biting my lip as I awaited a response. It was a somewhat comforting habit, to tuck my bottom lip between my teeth as I waited for people to answer sticky questions.

His eyes fell to mine and I was sure that both of us felt the weight of that. At the very least it was becoming clear to me that the eyes really are the window to the soul.

"Dublin is decidedly ancient. I was of the belief that we didn't need yet another bookstore- I mean, how many times can you reinvent the wheel?" He asked me, mischief coating his voice. I narrowed my eyes at him and allowed myself to smirk. His head tilted, oaken curls following the movement.

"And yet I'm sure you've been proven wrong- I have in fact reinvented the wheel." I said confidently, watching him smile, his deep peach lips curling in agreement.

"You have... it's lovely in here. I like that people can just come and read- there's no pressure to spend a whole lot of money to enjoy the atmosphere." He complimented and I knew he was being honest.

"Well for most people yes, for you- I mean you gotta spend at least 20k before I can let you leave." I teased, the words bubbling on the edge of my lips. Our conversation felt like a tennis game- fun, quick, reciprocal.

He gave me a smile as he bit the tip of his tongue and nodded in acceptance.

"Yeah that feels fair." He laughed slowly, the sound was warm like whiskey or honey or gold. I smiled, chewing the inside of my cheek as I did.

We spoke for maybe another half hour before he made me give him a comprehensive tour of the store, where he spent time carefully picking out four books he would buy.

He joked about how he already had a hundred books at home he hadn't read and I ate the humour out of his palm like a deer.

Soon enough he was at the counter and I was ringing him up, carefully wrapping each book in brown paper and placing them in the black canvas bag with our logo printed across them.

"You don't have to buy a bag- I can just give you a paper one." I said, not wanting him to feel overly pressured. His face contorted into something smug and he rolled his eyes.

"I'll take the bag and one of the t-shirts, men's large please." He smiled angelically at me. I nodded and blew a breath from between my lips.

"Can do." I obliged, folding one of our t-shirts which was also just black with our logo slapped across the front. Our logo was two sparrows facing each other in a pond, with the store's name below it. My friend Mari designed it, I thought it was cool. The merch was selling well.

I imagine him sliding the shirt over his long, pale frame and I wondered if a lip of his porcelain skin would be visible below the hem of the shirt- just a little too short for his torso...

"Ehm that's 94 euro, thanks." I said, watching as he opened his wallet, something about the way he opened it, separating the folds of leather with his long fingers made me nervous.

He slid a crisp 100 euro bill across the counter like some kind of cartoon rich guy and I held in a chuckle as I got his change. I was unsurprised and somewhat frustrated when he gave me a smug grin and plopped the 6 euros into our tip jar.

I gave him a pointed look but he simply grabbed his bag and smiled at me in a way that made me worry I was about to have a heart attack.

"It was very lovely meeting you Clodagh, text me?" He asked his voice teetering on suggestive. I nodded, eyeing him up and down as he left.

I was smiling as I watched him leave, his lithe form slinking out of my store, careful not to knock anything over in his wake.

I slowly made my way towards my brother, wanting to hear his thoughts (he would no doubt have much to say.)

"Ye' gonna ride him?" Was the first thing James asked as my new friend cleared the threshold of the store, turning down the street. I knew he'd have questions but that wasn't one I'd anticipated. My brows jumped and I blinked repeatedly, clearing my throat awkwardly.

"No- what? No. What? No." I stuttered defensively, convincing neither my brother or myself.

Jesus fucking Christ Clo, get it together.

He laughed at me, as I knew he would, grinning wickedly as he knelt before a small rectangular blackboard, slowly filling it out. We were starting a library portion of the shop, people deserved to read for free if they wanted to. The board was would be placed in the back half of the store by a vermillion, wooden food cart James and I had found on Facebook market place and it simply said:

"Welcome to our little library! Donations of books, DVDs, CD's and records are appreciated- otherwise, grab a book and a library card by the red cart!"

"He wants to ride you. 100%." He continued, rubbing out the last word he was writing to redo it. I choked at his forwardness and shook my head. I didn't want to ride Andrew- that much.

"I think he just needs a down to earth friend after what was, from what I can gather- a gruelling tour." I responded honestly, pulling my hair into whatever kind of a bunch I could manage and tangling a hair tie into it. My slew of ex boyfriends were an interesting bunch and for my sake- a tortured artist type who could never actually commit was not about to be the next addition to my dating history.

James rolled his eyes and shook his head, his dark hair falling over his face as he did.

"Uh huh, I also eye fuck my new friends- beautiful... Oh um! The store! Your store is beautiful! Is that Clodagh by any chance????" He drawled in a voice a little higher than his, mocking Andrew with a teasing smirk.

"That's not very ni- did he, did he say that?" I asked, my voice heightening in pitch as I scratched the back of my neck.

James rolled his eyes again.

"Yes, because he wants you." He said like it was obvious as if any other explanation was simply implausible. I ground my teeth and shook my head.

"No. He doesn't."

———

"Jesus Christ. Is it supposed to feel like I've been hit by a bus?" I hissed, forcing myself up the three brick steps that separated the pavement from the warm inner city bar Mari and I were stumbling into.

"I don't know man but it certainly does feel like that." She groaned as we made it inside, moving with utter decrepitude. Mari and I had won a free class pass to a Pilates studio down town this month- our first session had decidedly kicked our arses.

We were late for Thursday drinks, a weekly tradition between myself, Mari, Leo, Connor and Sinead. My college friends, who I'd met seven years ago and who were still my favourite people, they always would be.

Mari and I were in the same intro to design class, (I had studied business and taken it as an elective.) Leo was her lazy boyfriend, Connor was his roommate and Sinead was a law student better than all of us who simply stumbled into our web and got stuck.

We got drinks every Thursday in the city at 7pm.

"You feckers are late, d'ya have absolutely no respect for anything sacred?" Leo drawled from our go to table in the back, half finished Guinness that was certainly not his first- swinging in his hand.

Mari scoffed in my ear and I'm sure we both rolled our eyes.

"No not really, I thought we all had that in common?" I smirked, sliding my ever aching body onto a bar stool between Sinead and Connor. Leo cracked a warm grin at my retort and nodded.

"Sure like, sure yeah." He agreed drunkenly. Mari chuckled and dragged her tongue over her teeth before flicking her pony tail back over her shoulder.

"Nice to know you started without us though." She quipped, her words both pointy and jovial. Connor sighed next to me and gave us a serious look.

"Our lad got dumped." He announced, instantly explaining Leo's pathetic drunkenness. Mari and Leo had broken up 5 years ago, he'd been dating Maria for two years now (the similarity between the names was not lost on us and he'd been slagged off for it throughly.)

"Oh Leo, what happened?" I asked sympathetically but there was still a light hearted bubbling at the table. Leo, looking right at me, let out a dramatic sigh.

"Maria's a lesbian." He announced, causing a silence to fall over the table. Said silence insisted this was perhaps not something he'd told everyone else yet.

"I'm gonna get a drink and then revisit this." I blurted, Mari instantly nodding and standing up as well. The group grumbled their acknowledgements and we slid across the room to the bar.

"My favourite regulars, what can I get you tonight? Something expensive?" Samantha, the bar tender grinned at us. She'd worked here as long as we'd been coming here and was practically the sixth member of our group.

"We're not made of money, Sammy." I chuckled, though in the first few weeks of the store being open I'd found myself having access to more (not a huge amount but more) disposable income than I'd been used to having.

"Ah, ah, my love- it's covered by the world famous musician in the corner." She said grandiosely. Mari and I in identical movements swung our heads towards  the corner Sam had gestured at. Sure enough, in a group of people, facing away from us was my new friend. I hadn't told anyone but James about the odd situation I found myself in pertaining to the musician in question.

"Oh uh.... Can I just get the usual. I'm going to go and say hey. I'll be right back." I assured Mari who was staring at me with an open mouth. Hozier was well known internationally but in Ireland, there were like twelve of us in total so we held our famous people dear to our hearts.

I slid past chairs, trying to be graceful as my feet stuck to the carpet that was full of years worth of spilt drinks and worse.

When I reached the group I was very suddenly drenched in anxiety. Andrew wasn't facing me but most of his friends were and I suddenly realised they thought I was a fan.

"One of your cronies is here.... Hozier." A man with short black hair teased from across the table. I didn't like the arrogant look on his face.

"Who pissed in your pint?" I spat back, eyeing the man with annoyance. He looked at me seriously before laughing and nodding, raising his hands in surrender as the rest of the group laughed.

My new friend, Hozier, Andrew, turned back to look at me, his face softening as he did.

"Clodagh, didn't know you frequented this place." He smiled widely. His cheeks were tinted pink and his large hands (which always seemed to catch my eye,) were hanging loosely around a pint of golden coloured beer.

"One of the most popular bars in Dublin? No never." I chuckled sarcastically, watching him scratch his chin and nodding slowly before turning back to the group. I was right behind him- and I could smell his amber scented cologne, it drew me towards him like some kind of elixir.

"Lads, this is Clodagh. My new friend. She owns the bookstore in town- the new one." He hummed, gesturing vaguely in the direction of my store. I chuckled and nodded.

"Aye the one ye' thought was overrated?" One of his friends, a shaggy haired man asked. Andrew smiled at me innocently in his own defence.

"The one he has since admitted is fantastic, yes." I responded, hearing a bubble of laughter in response. He chuckled guiltily and nodded. I examined the men for a moment, huddled into a table much too small for the 4 of them.

"Why are you guys shoved into this tiny corner?"
I asked idly, watching the table that was littered with half empty glasses and a silver ash tray in the middle. There was a cigarette freshly put out in there- practically still sizzling.

"Because our usual corner is populated by another group-" His first friend began, staring at the table my friends were in.

"Ah lads- do not fear! Come join us, plenty of room and I'm just about to tell everyone how my girlfriend left me for a woman. Should be a wicked story." I flinched in surprise as Leo materialised behind me. I looked down at Andrew and tried to give him an expression that would say - no pressure - but he just chuckled and nodded.

"Mate, we can't miss a story like that." He grinned up at Leo and I. His other three friends laughed loudly and they all began to stand up.

"Besides this table is right next to the jax." Andrew's other friend who I'd heard nothing else from pipe up. I laughed as Andrew glared at him.

Soon enough the group shuffled into mine and we were all at the table. All of my friends were staring at me expectantly.

"Ehm, this is my friend Hozier and these are his friends." I said awkwardly before licking the froth of my Guinness off my lips. I had no idea how I was supposed to navigate an interaction like this.

"Andrew- please." He added from across the table, our eyes catching for a second. I bit my bottom lip and nodded.

I had been nervous when the two groups collided but they seemed to melt together like butter. Andrew introduced me to his bassist and musical director Alex, his drummer Rory and his keys player Ryan. They were all great craic and the whole group seemed to get along.

Our table howled with laughter as Leo made the retelling of his breakup rather humorous and by the end of my four pints (usually on Thursdays I had a maximum of two...) I was beyond tipsy and disappointed that the evening was ending.

The nine of us all stumbled out into the street at midnight, pulling our jackets tightly around ourselves as we braved the cold Dublin evening.

Taxis were called, goodbyes were said and before I knew it, Andrew, Leo and I were the only ones left.

"Hozier, Andrew- my new friend! Do ye' think I should write a song about my lesbian wife?" Leo drawled as he slumped against the tough brick wall of the bar's outside between Andrew and I.

Andrew looked down at him and shrugged.

"If I were in your shoes, I would." He said safely, though his words were half slurred. I knew that anything Leo could write would cast a shadow against something Andrew could write, his music was… something else.

Leo gave him a sharp nod, and slumped against the wall, waiting, pondering- his taxi arrived quickly, splashing the water from the gutter to just in front of us.

Leo practically crawled into the cab and suddenly I was hyper aware that I was alone with Andrew.

It was cold but I casually allowed my jacket to fall open, revealing my body in its tight leggings and sports bra. I didn’t want to dissect why but I wanted him to see me, and he did. His eyes fell to my figure, far more obviously than a sober man's might've but I could tell he was trying not to be so obvious.

"This was unexpected, I'm so sorry we practically kidnapped your party." I said honestly into the silence that had grown around us. I wanted to assure the man before me I wasn't a crazy stalker and that I wasn't that keen to see him at the bar (despite how untrue that may have been.)

Andrew laughed before breathing hot breath into his cupped hands, rubbing them together for warmth.

"It's okay, they seem grand. I'm kind of yearning for some social interaction that isn't all about music. I had fun- we get along, Clodagh. Stuff like this- the ehm, spontaneous hanging out, the new friends- it doesn't really happen in my world." He responded and the way he said my name made me hold breath a moment.

"Mm Leo's lesbian ex is a perfect way to relax back into non- touring life." I agreed with a small laugh, squeezing my hands together tightly before shoving them in my pockets. I was regretting my choice of a thin jacket over my Pilates gear (even if said gear had caught Andrew's eye,) but James would be here soon to pick me up.

"Exactly, I'm glad you agree." He chuckled, turning to his side so his shoulder was pressed to the brick. His eyes were bright and his cheeks still red, this time from the cold and the intoxication.

I liked how his nose curved and how he trimmed his beard and how his smile was inexplicably alluring. We were suspiciously close to one another.

"Your eyes are insane." He muttered almost as if I wasn't supposed to hear it. My face fell a little and he instantly cringed, his face crunching.

"I'm sorry- I'm drunk- your eyes are ehm- like golden- never seen anythin' like it." He breathed the words between us and suddenly I was definitely having some kind of cardiac event.

Who was this guy? Following my Instagram page, making me like him, showing up in the same bar as my friends and I...

My breath was stuck, hovering in my mouth as his face inched closer to mine. This was probably moving too quickly, this morning we were drinking lattes but we'd known each for longer than today. His commentary and company had started to become quite appreciated within my life.

I bit my lip at how my skin tingled as the space between us became smaller and his musky smell of leather, amber and wood smoke filled my nose.

My heart was thudding, working to pump blood to my shaking hands, he was right there. It wasn't often I was around a man so much taller than me- he had to be 6 inches taller at least...

His eyes half lidded, fell to my lips and I watched as his parted and he tilted his head to the left. This wasn't happening, this stuff didn't happen, especially to me. He pushed forward and then as my lips began to ache for his and my neck craned ever so slightly forward, he...

Turned away?

His face was embarrassed and he turned, looking at the floor. He was like a fly, almost caught in my trap before being yanked away from me, my hinges aching as they closed around nothing.

It felt like all the blood in my body had drained, I was slightly nauseated by the rejection of an advance I didn't even make.

"Sorry- shite, I'm sorry- We shouldn't... I just got out of a really long relationship- I really like you and I just, but I think we should be friends." He mumbled, facing straight ahead instead of me. I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip- Jesus Clodagh, Do. Not. Cry.

"Yeah, no of course- I get it."

Notes:

Please let me know what you thought of the chapter/ if I should keep going lol

I love hearing your thoughts, see you on Tuesday if I decide to write the next chapter 👀

ig: Clumsyletters_

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Notes:

Enjoy my loves <3

Please leave your thoughts x

Clodagh

"Oh... Well at least he's not a lesbian."

Thursday night drinks this week were different to any of our others. I'd (maybe naively) arrived to the bar excited for our usual craic and a break from the week's stress.

Instead, I'd been forced into an incredibly long debrief about last week and meeting Andrew and his friends- they asked when we'd all hang out again. I'd had to confess we probably wouldn’t because of the terrible almost kiss. Suddenly, and for perhaps the first time, I was the one complaining about the fickle nature of relationships and romance.

I'd had a few boyfriends here and there but nothing deep enough to complain about, my focus had always been on work or travel or enjoying the little things- romance had never really been a driving force.

"Has he apologised, like?" Sinead asked, her posture insanely good as she sat on the barstool opposite me. The orange bar light behind her illuminated her head of beautiful dark curls like a halo. Sometimes I thought she was perhaps a little magic, she could set her deep brown eyes on me and that gaze always forced the truth out of me.

I shrugged, Andrew had texted me quite a few times since the incident a week ago but none of that communication had been enticing enough for me to reciprocate.

@hozier: I'm sorry. I'm a pillock.

@hozier: I really do want to be your friend.

@hozier: Can we meet in person so I can apologise? I think you're amazing but I got out of a long term relationship not long ago, I just can't start anything right now.

The texts somehow made the situation worse. We didn't have to do make it a whole thing. He was framing the situation as if I were pursuing him. I'd have never tried to kiss him if he hadn't tried to kiss me first...

"Mm, kinda? I dunno- I'm just off it." I rolled my eyes, my fingers toying with the rim of my glass. Though the short lived acquaintanceship I'd had with *the* Hozier was over and had left a sour taste in my mouth- I wasn't devastated by any means. Disappointed? Sure but I was in a great place in my life, I had a new business, a shitload of friends, hobbies to keep me occupied and money to keep me alive- I didn't need a boyfriend right now.

"Yeah I would probably kill myself if a fit celebrity rejected me so heartlessly." Mari joked, making me shoot daggers at her with my gaze. Leo laughed a little at the joke which made me then shoot daggers at him.

"He like... still wants to be friends but he's framing it as if I'm like- I don't know, begging to be with him. I just met the guy." I sighed, taking my fingers through my hair and pretending I had absolutely no attraction at all to the man.

Of course, there had been a few times, when I was at home, in bed, when I'd thought of him. I replayed the events from the day we'd met right up until the rejection, I tried to replicate the unearthing feeling of being so close to him.

His face, his long, strong form, the way his fingers danced and plucked across his guitar (something I was now, a little disappointed I may not see live...) It made for good material to linger on in those evenings where I looked up at my ceiling and waited for sleep to take me.

That being said, I would kill myself before ever letting him find out such a thing about me- and besides just because he was pretty and I thought about him doesn't mean I was in love with him or even interested in actually being with him.

Friends was fine, friends was great, friends was optimal but he'd ruined that too.

Connor gave me a daring look and grinned devilishly before he began to speak.

"Okay, okay- we, of course, of course, will support whatever you decide to do with this strange new friendship, however, if you were to say... rekindle, that wouldn't be so bad. I mean he's rich, I say we invite him into the fold and then when Mari's birthday rolls around we can be like wow... Mari's one wish in her life is to see Hawaii with us, her dear friends but you know... Travel is so expensive these days. Boom free trip." Connor sighed, bowing his head at the table and pretending to mic drop. We all started to laugh in response.

"I was pro ditch him but now I'm getting a free birthday trip to Hawaii so I'm not so sure..." Mari grinned as she sipped on a glass of the house red. I snicked and rolled my eyes.

"Sure like, use him and toss him- perfect." I joked, flicking my hair back over my shoulder. Realistically I could never do such a thing- to anyone, but to him especially.

Sinead eyed us, she was most likely far too mature to agree but eventually she just shrugged and gave us all a small smirk.

"I could be on board with that."

—

The next day, battling a hangover that dug its pincers into me like some kind of venomous scorpion- I braved the outside world.

"It's fucking freezing, but you're enjoying yourself aren't ye?" I sighed, my breath visible in the crisp morning air. My dog, Honey, started to bounce on her cute grey paws at the sound of my voice.

We were in a dog park that was about an hour out of the city, a green oasis of lush grass and tall trees. It was the kind of peace I needed on my day off, especially on such a rare sunny morning (though, of course, it was bitingly cold.)

I crouched down to unclip her lead from her collar and suddenly she was off. She looked like a sleek grey bullet as she excitedly ran around the paddock. I couldn't help but smile, when I'd adopted her she was a nervous wreck. She'd been a fighting dog in the past, in the last year I'd had her it had been a privilege to see her spark come back.

I strolled around the park quietly, as Honey pranced through the field contentedly. I had one airpod in so I could listen to an audiobook and I had my other ear free so I could hear my surroundings. I liked to listen to the way the wind disturbed the leaves and the song of the birds who frequented the park the same way I did.

The air was so cold it was almost painful as it blew against my face. It was supposed to be just coming into Spring but in classic Irish fashion, Winter was holding on with all its might.

My feet crunched against the cold, frosty grass and I found myself incredibly grateful for the travel mug of coffee in my hand. Even though it was somewhat bitter, at least the cup served as a hand warmer.

I heard Honey start to bark excitedly and looked over to see her sniffing a dog I hadn't seen before. She was bouncing happily around the thing, always thrilled to run in to other dogs.

It was a little black sheepdog with white facial markings and it was zooming around Honey happily. I called out to Honey sweetly only for her new friend to set their eyes on me and start sprinting with all its might. It was quicker than Honey and began barrelling towards me with a scary certainty.

"El- shit!" I heard a man yell before the small sheepdog collided with my shins and won, leaving me flat on my arse on the cold hard ground. Pain instantly bloomed across all the places that had made contact with the brick solid dirt and I groaned.

"Oh hello! Hello puppies. I know, I know it's okay." I cooed as both Honey and her new friend swarmed me, trying their absolute hardest to lick my face. I pet them both happily as I heard quick footsteps, the little dog's owner quickly approached.

"Christ I'm so sorry, he's just excited- oh."  The voice stopped as we met eyes, Andrew. I rolled my eyes at the cliche, coincidental meeting but grabbed his outstretched hand before being pulled to my feet. His eyes were almost blue today, reflecting the cold white sky. He was rugged up in the same coat I met him in, this time a scarf was plopped on top. My eyes momentarily flickered to his pink, moist lips.

I was relieved to find my airpod was still stiff in my ear and I slowly removed it, putting it back in its case before shoving said case in the pocket of my coat.

We were close as I stood up, if his jacket were open I'm sure I'd be able to feel his heat radiate onto me...

"I'll step back now, you know- the implications of being this close may be too much for ye' to handle." I grumbled, aware of how petty I sounded. He sighed and rolled his eyes which only made me angrier.

"Are ye’ alright?" He asked, ignoring my immature remark. I brushed myself off and nodded, trying not to be mad that Honey was nudging Andrew excitedly for a pat. He obliged my demanding dog and scratched her head much to Honey's satisfaction, I tried not to be charmed by the way he cooed at my pet.

"Fine." I responded coolly, watching him purse his lips and nod. Though, of course, I was not in fact fine, my ass ached most definitely actively bruising, and now I found myself dreading Pilates with Mari tomorrow.

"Right, well it looks like I owe you a coffee. Indulge me?" He asked, looking out at my once hot coffee now spilled across the paddock. The sizzling liquid was releasing steam directly into the air, the white cloud dissipating in front of my face.

I looked down at Honey who was sitting beside her new friend excitedly, panting little white puffs into the air. I groaned yet again and looked at the man in front of me.

"Why do you want to get coffee?" I asked him, folding my arms over my chest and pretending that my entire body wasn't aching from the force I'd hit the ground with. He scoffed and looked at the ground before looking right at me again, I didn’t want to be in admiration of his height and the way he was the only man I’d met who dwarfed me like this- but I was.

"I really do want to get to know you better. You’re interesting and funny and we texted for like a month non stop, obviously we get along. I just- I can't do anything romantic." He confessed, forcing my brows into a furrow and my teeth to grind.

"Well Mr rockstar, I actually never asked for anything romantic- you were the one who was all like wow your eyes are insane and then you were the one who tried to kiss me- ye' not even my type." I spat angrily as I mocked him, only growing more frustrated at the smug expression on his face. I wasn't even lying, he wasn't my type. I usually dated athletic men who were built like brick walls, not artistic men with sly grins and pretty eyes...

"Right, grand, so you'd be down to get a friendly, platonic coffee, sure." He offered, giving me a smile that made me inexplicably more malleable. My eyes narrowed as I internally battled myself.

"Fine- but we need somewhere dog friendly." I yielded, huffing slightly as I clipped Honey's lead to her collar. He hummed and nodded before doing the same for his dog.

"Of course, I know just the place. This is your dog then?" He asked as he began to walk towards his car, just assuming I'd follow (and I did.) He was looking back, his eyes darting between Honey and I.

"Yes, this is Honey, she's the best." I responded, scratching the little thing behind her ears. I looked over at his dog, a little smaller than Honey.

"Who's this?" I asked Andrew as we all made our way towards his car, I guess he was driving. He chuckled and locked down at the sheepdog.

"This is Elwood, he's my folk's technically but I walk him sometimes. He's an absolute rascal, as you know, because he took you out..." He trailed off, his voice both guilty and on the verge of a laugh.

"Mm he sure did. Yes ye' did, Elwood." I crooned at the happy little dog. He let out a small ruff and wagged his tail so excitedly his whole body swayed.

Andrew drove a large Nissan, it was a deep orange and as he opened the hatch style boot, I saw a bunch of dog blankets, clearly where Elwood resided when he was being driven around by Andrew. I'm almost embarrassed to say but I had been expecting something a little flashier in the way of cars. His was nice, expensive even but it didn't yell rockstar.

I suppose he didn't want it to.

"Will she be okay in the back with him? He's very friendly, just excited." Andy promised, smiling at our two dogs who seemed to really like each other. I nodded and watched as Elwood shot up into the boot.

"Yep, she just can't jump up there- her ACL's are shot." I explained, surprised when Andrew stooped down to wrap his hands around my pitbull's barrelly body and plop her in the boot where she flopped down by Elwood.

Her grey ears were folded as she looked at us, panting happily.

"Okay, problem solved." I smiled, my gaze drawn to him whilst he pulled his phone out of his pocket to take a photo of the two happy dogs.

"You better send that to me." I instructed, watching as a smirk crawled across his face and he shrugged.

"You never texted me, I don't have your number." He argued before opening the passenger door for me. My eyes followed the line of his arm. The gesture wasn't lost on me and I narrowed my eyes, shaking my head.

"Instagram is fine." I said plainly when he was seated in the driver's side next to me. His car smelled like him, leather and tobacco and something sweeter too.

"Instagram compresses the image." He argued practically forcing an eye roll out of me. He snickered at my non verbal response and suddenly the car roared to life.

"I really- I really didn't mean to offend you." He said and I hated the way honesty tainted his voice so instead of looking at his face, I focused on his hands. His long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, practically dwarfing it with the size of his digits and his large, almost plate like hands.

"I know. I wasn't so much offended as... embarrassed." I confessed, the words were heavy and hard to push out. I hated to admit embarrassment, everyone did.

He made an odd noise as he considered this.

"That wasn't my intention. I'd really like to just start over you know? You really are very intriguing." He mused, his eyes glazing over the soft rolling hills we drove through.

"I'm really not." I countered, out of habit more than anything else. I guess I just assumed I was no more intriguing than any other person.

"You are. So what do you say? Start over?" He asked, looking away from me for a second as if trying to convince me with those sweet aquatic eyes.

"Depends if you'll buy me lunch too." I said slickly, it was more of a tease than anything else, but it seemed to lighten him up.

"I'll buy you anything you like." He responded and I sucked my teeth for a moment, he didn't want a relationship and yet he was fine to flirt- because let's be clear, he was flirting,

"Oh?" He smiled at my response, his fingers beginning to drum quickly against the rubber of his steering wheel.

"Clodagh, I'm many things but at least stingy isn't one of them."

—

He took us to a bustling cafe closer to Bray than Dublin, it was in Greystones, a small village that sat quietly on the sandy coastline. It was called the Fat Fox and I smiled at the sight of the deck that sprawled out from the side of the cafe. No one was sat outside because it was freezing but there were a few outdoor heaters that I'm sure would keep us warm. The building itself was an old house that had been converted and it had a quaint energy that made me feel at ease.

"Have you been here before?" He asked me as we took ourselves and our dogs to a seat at the edge of the deck, with a breathtaking view of the ocean. I watched it roll over the sand hypnotically as I shook my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

We tied the dogs' leashes to a pillar of the deck's fence and watched as they snuggled beside each other. We both made a small "aww" sound as they did. I snapped a photo of the two who were seemingly instant best friends.

"You better send that to me." He said, mimicking my earlier words. I scoffed but relented, texting the photo to him, as such, yielding my phone number to him.

He beamed when he got the photo, shaking his phone in my face, forcing me to push it away and roll my eyes.

"No, it looks a nice spot though like." I commented, answering his first question and smiling as I looked around at the cafe itself, at the patrons, at the ocean...

At him.

He mirrored my smile and shrugged, his head tilting to the side as he did.

"It is a nice spot, I come here most mornings, the coffee is class and the pastries are truly to die for." He told me, hovering his phone over a QR code in the middle of our table. I admired the way his veins wrapped around the structure of his hands and how the round bone of his wrist peaked beneath the lip of his sleeve.

"Isn't that a bit of a drive?" I asked him curiously, the coffee must be grand if he was willing to drive from Dublin each morning for it. He cracked an open lipped smile, his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my skin buzz.

"No, I live just over that hill." He explained, his arm stretching out to point behind me. His forearm was right by face, he must put cologne on the inside of his wrists because for a moment I was rendered dumb by the smell of Amber and Myrtle that wafted below my nose. I wanted to ask him what cologne he used, I wanted to buy a bottle and spritz it all over my pillowcases- but that was, of course, insane.

I turned my head to follow his point and nodded in acknowledgement as my eyes landed on the lush hill he was referring to.

"Ah so you're a culchie? A country boy then?" I teased, turning back to face him. He gave me an incredulous look, eyes wide with faux offence.

"We prefer the term bogger, actually." He responded sarcastically. I snickered a little and nodded, watching him watch me.

"I can't really blame ye' it's beautiful out here, I hope to be a bogger one day." I confessed, I loved Dublin but I always felt most myself in the rolling hills. Ireland was green in a way nowhere else was. Andrew tutted and shook his head, his long curls bouncing as he did.

"Unfortunately you have to be born a bogger." He informed me, forcing a sad sigh from my lips. He chuckled, the sound had the same cadence of water bouncing over rocks in a stream.

"My plans are foiled. I am a Dubliner through and through." I smiled watching as he smiled in response, the white of his teeth clashed against the cold pink of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

"Indeed they are, love but I will buy you some lunch to cheer you up." He responded coolly, I wanted to quip at him for being such a flirt after the whole kiss incident, but then he may stop.

He handed me his phone, the online menu open on the screen. I hummed as I scrolled through it, examining all the food options. It felt a big gesture, trusting me with his phone.

"The pulled pork sandwich looks good." I commented, my eyes flicking up to his in hopes of some confirmation. He nodded, just watching me decide.

"It's amazing, the serving is huge though. Could feed a village like." He joked, forcing me to smile a little.

"Should we share it, then?"

"You're a cheap date." He responded with a slick smile, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. I rolled my eyes at the statement even though it made my body buzz.

"Oh um, Andrew I- I'm flattered really but I just got out of a long relationship you know? I just, I can't do anything romantic right now." I said in my best attempt to sound disgustingly earnest. He sneered at me though the edge of his lips twitched excitedly.

"Ah grand, perfect- I was worried about you, you hadn't slagged me off nearly enough for that yet." He teased, rolling his eyes. I fake laughed at him before selecting the sandwich and a cappuccino.

Our fingers brushed as I handed him the phone back, electricity flowed between our touch- I was magnetised to him but forced myself to hand his phone over and pull my hand away.

It felt like our food and coffee took five minutes to arrive, in reality I think the conversation we shared was actually just rather stimulating.

I watched eagerly as he placed half of the (admittedly huge) pulled pork sandwich onto a plate for me, sliding that plate towards me.

"Smells amazing." I hummed, taking my half into my hands, my mouth opening widely before I glanced at him, cutlery in hand.

He chuckled as we made eye contact.

"I was going to be civilised and use a knife and fork but if you aren't..." He teased before picking up his lunch, his huge hands made the mammoth meal look small. I rolled my eyes and took a large, delicious bite.

"Fuck- this is class." I mumbled, covering my mouth as I chewed. He chuckled, nodding as he began to eat as well.

"I told you." He responded, his voice verging on a whine. I snickered though I liked the way he sounded. He ran one of his hands through his hair, separating long, spiral curls as he did.

"I know, I should trust you more, you've never been misleading or offered mixed signals..." I trailed off, raising a brow at him pointedly. He narrowed his eyes before rolling them, once again the soft smile pressed across his lips wasn't missed on me.

"Totally, I pride myself on being straight forward, like." He grinned, his eyes somehow always caught the light. I felt simultaneously seen and exposed when he looked at me. I worried he could read my every thought.

We ate quickly, not wanting the lunch to end (we stayed for almost an hour after we were finished anyway.) but because the food truly was fantastic. We talked happily with our mouths full and I slowly learnt more about the rockstar in front of me.

"So you told me you had a twin." Andrew randomly mentioned with curiosity as we both sipped on our now warm coffee. I nodded, covering my mouth as I tried to run my tongue over my teeth to dislodge any food stuck in them.

"Yeah James, you said we had the same eyes. We're identical." I smiled, James was my favourite person. We'd had a tumultuous childhood, but we had each other.

"You guys do look eerily similar but don't identical twins have to be the same gender?" He asked me, making me chuckle a little and nod.

"We used to be. James is trans." I explained nonchalantly. Andrew made a small "ah" sound and nodded.

"Sorry." He mumbled a little awkwardly. I shook my head and swatted my hand at him.

"Don't be, he doesn't mind people knowing. He's very comfortable in his masculinity." I responded, the man before me laughing, his eyes wide as he nodded.

"I'm sure he is he's built like a bull." He chuckled out the compliment. I sighed and nodded. James was incredibly muscular.

"Proper little gym rat he is. Puts protein in his pints, I swear." I giggled, wiping some stray cappuccino froth from my lips.

We spoke for another half an hour before the dogs got restless and we decided we should probably take off. The energy between us was bubbly and warm as we trudged back to his car.

"Was this fantastic lunch enough to buy your friendship, Clodagh?" He asked me, his tone was light but I could tell his anticipation of the answer was somewhat nervous.

"Yes... and Mari's Hawaii trip." I joked quietly on the end, though of course I hadn't told him about Connor's joke of a plan.

"What?" He asked, clearly having not heard my statement. I just smiled innocently, laughing lightly.

"Nothing, Andy." I chuckled, slapping his back jovially as he unlocked his car. He shot me an intense but lighthearted look I couldn't identify before he started scratching the back of his neck.

"Well in that case, you probably have plans but it's my birthday on Friday-"

"Like this Friday?" I asked him, a humoured smile tugging at the edge of my lips. He sighed loudly and nodded.

"Yes. I was born on Paddy's day, whatever you're about to say I promise I've already heard it. Do you want to come out to my place in the evening? I'm having a barbecue, you can bring people if you like, it should be good craic." He said, quickly shutting down the thousand jokes I had about an Irish celebrity being born on our national holiday.

"Right fine, and sure, I go wherever the craic is."

Notes:

I’m excited for this barbecue personally,
As always, I’m a fiend for your comments- please let me know how you’re liking this story so far x

 

For more details on when I update and some cute lil’ moodboards, follow the ig- I love hearing from you all!

IG: clumsyletters_

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Notes:

Pretty sure A03 posted one of my drafts like two hours ago which is not cool….

Anyway, here’s the actual chapter:

Enjoy!

Clodagh

"I am not staying longer than I want to." James huffed as we emerged from our taxi at the start of a long dirt driveway, illuminated by small garden lights all the way up. I was glad, in the dark evening I worried I'd trip and make a fool of myself in front of Andrew- again.

I glanced at my brother and rolled my eyes, the prick was nothing if not deceptively anti social. He insists he doesn’t want to go whatever you invite him to but when he does, he somehow always melts into the people around him.
He’s always accepted into whatever crowd he finds himself in, I’d always been jealous of this.

I wanted to say this to him, that he would no doubt dart into the party and have the time of his life- but I was surprised I'd somehow managed to get him to come and so refrained from insulting him.

It was Andrew's birthday, and while he'd told me to bring as many people as I liked, the group were all already pissed enough I was wiggling out of our annual Saint Patrick's day plans, they certainly weren't about to join me- and so I'd brought James instead.

I supposed I could have gone alone but for some reason that seemed too daunting.

"You are free to call a taxi whenever you like, but hey, maybe you'll meet some new friends." I offered, though James had more than enough friends. He was the successful twin, with a business degree, a fiancé on a business trip in Spain, and a gym habit that would put the hulk to shame.

"I will." He assured me, his voice was stern but his eyes twinkled as he looked at me- both of us snickering a little as we made our way up a long dirt driveway to a large house that practically swayed with its own pulse.

We didn't have to say much, I'd grown up with him, I knew what he was about to say by the twitch of a brow.

I was admittedly excited to see Andrew's house, it was large and stately, which was to be expected. It seemed to sit on a plush few acres that sprawled out like a big green rug, littered with the occasional dip or hill or tree...

The house itself was white, two storeys- and it thudded with loud music and the low hum of a lot of people talking at once. It was practically a living being itself.

I could liken it to a bee hive, buzzing, alive and perhaps unwise to get too close to...

Andy🎸: not standing me up on my birthday are you?

Clo🍯: im at your front door actually

Andy🎸: deadly. come in and ill find you.

Clo🍯: grand. im with james.

Andy🎸: ace.

"He told us to just go i- oh." I mumbled, about to tell James to just go in when I looked up to see he'd done exactly that.

I grumbled something not complimentary under my breath and stalked inside. One of my hands was wrapped around a worn old book, the other shoved in my pocket alongside my phone.

It didn't take long to find Andrew, he stood out in a crowd. He was clearly already sloshed, grinning from ear to ear with soft pink cheeks and glittery eyes. He looked somehow understated and dazzling in a pair of navy trousers and a loose white button down, his hair was back in a bun, allowing me a good look at his face.

He weaved through seemingly hundreds (but more likely 30) people to come and see me. I was shocked as all the air was pushed from my lungs and his long, deceptively strong arms wrapped around my body.

There it was, that piney, amber and sandalwood smell. I inhaled through my nose, returning the embrace and ignoring how it made my stomach stir.

"Hey hey. Thanks for coming. Did you find the place okay?" He asked as he let me go, his hand lingering around my arm for a moment. I wished words were a little easier to form in the moment but he didn't seem to mind me taking a pause.

"Yeah we did, James is- I dunno, somewhere." I sighed, scanning the crowd for him with no luck. He was a social butterfly, though he rarely went to house parties anymore- when he did, he dove head first.

Andrew chuckled, his mouth a soft river, curving naturally as his eyes lingered on the book I clutched in my hand.

My breath hitched and I did my best at formulating a stern look as his long fingers gripped the old book, softened with age and the repetitive micro abuse of page turning,

He slowly pulled it from my grip and turned it over in his large palm. His brows, almost suspiciously well shaped, jumped and he nodded smugly as he examined the cover.

"D'ye bring some reading material? Scared I'd bore you, Clodagh?" He asked, his voice half tease, half chuckle. I forced my eyes to meet his, watching as they fluttered, his gaze locked on mine.

"Ehm- no, it's for you. You said at some point you hadn't read it and I thought, if you were a true friend- you'd read the book my cafe is named after." I responded with an insincere jab, a smirk creeping across my cheeks.

He looked at my old copy of "At Swim Two Birds" and smiled, nodding slowly as he bit his lip.

"I havebeen meaning to read this..." He hummed, examining the back cover, reading the blurb through cream cracks that ran across the page like arteries.

"Is this your copy?" He asked me then, his eyes flicking to mine. My lips pursed and I nodded, watching as he thumbed the pages, flicking through them quickly.

"Yep, yours now." I told him with a smug glance. He sucked in a sweet breath and shrugged. His broad shoulders moved almost comically as he did.

"That's very thoughtful, thank you." He said, a drunken gratitude peeking through his darker facade as he circled his arm around my waist and half hugged me to say thanks.

"Any time. Happy birthday, how old are ye' then?" I asked him, tilting my head up to get a good look at his face. He rolled his eyes.

"29." The words punctuated the air as if he was announcing his own death sentence. I chuckled at his seemingly hopeless nature.

"Spring chicken." I argued.

"How old are you? I'm not sure I actually know..." He said, his words slurring ever so slightly.

"Turn 27 later in the year." I explained nonchalantly, I wondered if we'd celebrate together. He nodded slowly.

"Still got some life in you then." He grinned, his brows jumping mischievously. I laughed, nodding slowly.

"Sure like." I responded lazily.

"Come with me, I'm gonna put this somewhere I won't lose it and then we will get you a drink." He said, slinging his arm once more around my shoulders before letting go and beginning to walk towards a hallway to my right.

He was touchier than he usually was but I had to stack that up to him being drunk rather than him holding some kind of affection for me.

"You have a nice place." My voice sounded louder than expected in the quiet alcove of his hallway. He hummed appreciatively.

"It's home." He agreed before opening the door at the end of the hall and revealing his bedroom to me. It seemed quite personal, to look upon where he slept, where he laid his head each night.

He had one of the biggest beds I've ever seen, I supposed that made sense- he wanted one big enough for his entire body to fit in comfortably.

A large Persian rug hugged the hardwood floor below his perfectly made bed. His furniture- cupboard, bed frame, nightstands and book shelf, were all a dark, cool brown. An acoustic guitar hung from a hook on the wall by the door and his bookshelf was stuffed to the brim- I wondered where he'd put the book I gave him but that question was soon answered when he placed it on his nightstand below a modern, warm lamp.

His room smelled like cedar and tobacco and him, something soft and masculine and the kind of smell that can only be created by a person and their skin.

"Alright, what'd you drink?" He asked me, looking down at me with big green eyes. I shrugged, unsure how to answer.

"What do you have?" I asked gently, not wanting to request something unavailable.

"What do you like?" He quipped back rather unhelpfully.

"Whiskey?" I suggested, I was trying to drink less beer.

"Red breast 12?" He asked as if there was a way I could say no to such a drink.

It suddenly hit me that of course, his alcohol would be expensive, he was rich.

"Red breast 12 is fantastic." I responded, watching a smile dart across his sweet face.

"Grand. Let's go."

In a matter of minutes I was legless in his kitchen and despite being the most famous person in the house.

Andrew, didn't leave my side.

———
Andrew

My head felt 10 times lighter than my body, like it was about to float away, up and off my shoulders. I was God knows how many pints in and my consciousness was floating around the room somewhere.

"I can't- no like I truly, I'm shite."

A giggly voice spilt in front of me, pulling me back into the realm of reality. Clodagh was standing in before me, the soft sculpture of her body existing within inches of mine. I'd claimed her instantly as my beer pong partner but as we stood at our end of the table, she was insisting she was terrible at the game and I should pick someone else.

I picked her.

"Ack, I'm sure you're a natural." I rolled my eyes, grabbing the small white globe of a ping pong ball and pressing it into her palm. It wasn't lost on me how in my grip the ball looked minuscule and in hers it looked like a tennis ball...

"Yeah c'mon Clodagh, give Alex a run for his money." Kristen grinned wickedly from the sidelines. Clodagh laughed tipsily in response and shrugged before throwing the ball, having it land between two of the opposing team's cups.

 

"We like to drink with Clodagh cuz' Clodagh is mate and when we drink with Clodagh she gets it down in 8!... 7!... 6...!-"

For a second I found myself biting my tongue, as I watched Alex and Rory egg her on, I wanted to tell them to stop, that she was about to be black out drunk, but that wasn't my place.

Clodagh chugged down the beer in the cup, her throat bulging as she threw it back. She smacked the red plastic down on the ledge beside her and looked at me, her eyes glistened, like liquid gold, like sunshine on frosty grass, like fresh honey oozing from a hive.

"Hellooooo." She laughed, waving her hand in my face. I'd clearly gotten distracted in her gaze and missed some kind of question. Her other hand was open and flat- ah, the ball. Alex and Rory had one cup left, this was her shot.

I pressed it into her hand and watched as she turned to face the table and stood like a lion, ready to pounce. My eyes couldn't help themselves as they raked from her long dark hair, over her body- admiring the way clothes seemed to melt around her waist and tighten around her curves...

I only looked up when bombarded with loud cheers. She'd gotten it in and Rory was downing their last beer. Clodagh looked at me excitedly and gave me a high five.

"My first goal! Woooo." She cheered drunkenly, it had indeed been the first one she'd gotten in but I'd made all my shots and so (by a hair) we still won.

I couldn't help but cheer as well, my arm falling lazily around her waist as we celebrated our win.

God, she was always so warm and tonight she smelled of vanilla and cardamom.

I wanted to lick the scent off her olive skin.

My forearm tingled as I found it pressed against the lip of soft flesh between the brim of her shirt and her jeans, I wondered if she felt just as electrified as I did...

———

The best part of any gathering was when the cacophony of drunkenness- all bad karaoke and jovial arguments, got too much. I ducked away from Clodagh when she and Kristen and James got invested in dancing around an hour ago.

I had officially reached my point of overstimulation and while no one was looking, I grabbed a bottle of scotch, a joint and a charcuterie board before trudging out to the deck.

It was cold, enough so to litter my skin with goosebumps, but I was drunk enough not to care. I sat, my legs swinging over the side of the deck which now I thought about it, definitely needed a guard rail. My vices sat beside me and for a moment I treasured the aloneness and let my ears narrow in on the thud of my birthday party currently happening without me.

"Andy?" I heard a sweet, giggly voice call from behind me. I had been grateful to be alone but suddenly I was far more grateful to be in her presence. I turned to see Clodagh leaning in the doorway, the light from inside illustrated her silhouette to me- it was as though she posed for the sole purpose of my temptation.

I was sure it was the first time she hadn't just called me Andrew and hearing my nickname roll off her tongue made my chest tighten.

"Clodagh." I responded, I wanted to call her Clo, like her brother did but for some reason it felt too bold.

"What'cha doing out here?" She asked, my gaze getting caught in the ridiculously long dark curls she sported. I sighed and slowly stood up.

"Don't get up on my behalf." She insisted but it was too late. I shrugged and watched her slowly approach.

"I'm just getting some quiet, you know?" I asked as she slowly paced along the wooden deck. She hummed and gave me a small nod, I followed and we both began to pace.

"For sure, that's why I stepped out." She smiled in explanation. I nodded, chuckling a little as we walked up and down the deck.

It was sort of nice just to pace until my shoe got caught on a slightly raised nail and I felt my centre of gravity shit the bed.

"Fuck-" I muttered as tripped off the deck, taking Clodagh and myself on the 2 feet fall to the grassy ground of my backyard.

We hit the ground with a thud, her body caged under mine, the pocket between us a hot concoction, a mixture of our body warmth. We both groaned loudly in pain and shock.

I looked down at her, suddenly panicking- was she alright?

She looked up at me, her eyes somehow just as beautiful in the dark. She was blinking slowly, her face unreadable before she started to giggle.

"Fucking clumsy pick." She accused, forcing me to roll my eyes. I pushed myself up onto my hands- sure I'd pictured myself hovering over her like this before, the context was just a tad different.

I looked down to see her, chest heaving and grinning brightly. The bottom few buttons of her shirt had been ripped open, revealing dark tendrils- ivy or vines I imagine, crawling over the right third of her stomach.

"I like your tattoo." I murmured, pushing her shirt ever so slightly to the side so I could see a little more. Her skin seemed to grow goosebumps as my fingertips skimmed it.

"I have a bunch." She whispered, looking up from my hands to my face.

"Can I see them?" I asked instantly and without a second thought. She chuckled from below me and hummed out something in agreement.

"Oh sure, I'd love to show you the little bird on my hip, just below the brim of my jeans- or, the tattoo on my sternum, my lower back, my inner thighs- but you know, showing you would leave me in a state of undress and I'm not really available for anything romantic right now." She teased. I hadn't expected such a provocative response. Her words made me want to rip her blouse off, to rip her jeans off, to kiss the tattoo on her inner thigh, to go higher, to taste her, to worship her...

"I mean, what's a little nudity between friends?" I asked with a grin, watching as she chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"I should probably go inside anyway, leave you be, probably best for your safety- and mine like, I don't really fall over a lot and then boom you show up and your dog bowls me over and I'm falling off decks and the like..."

"Stay. I have food and alcohol and a joint- if you partake in... ehm, recreational drug use." I chuckled, slowly rolling off of her and hoping like hell she didn't go back inside.

"Yeah alright- once my bones piece themselves back together I'll join you." She laughed, flashing that wicked smile. I groaned below my breath and stood up, my knees ached and I knew I'd be bruised tomorrow but for now the alcohol was doing its job at masking the majority of any pain.

I held my hand out for her, like I had in the park- and watched as she grabbed it, carefully pulling herself up to her feet.

"Y'alright?" I asked, steadying her swaying body with a hand on her waist. My eyes couldn't move from her actions as she slowly buttoned up the last buttons of her blouse, stealing away the small window of her body I'd been allowed to see earlier.

"I've probably broken every bone in my body but I'm drunk enough on expensive enough whiskey- not to care." She smiled, taking my hand once again as I helped her up onto the deck.

"The beauty of alcohol, it lets you enjoy your night."

"Oh yeah, only cost is the suffering the next day and like- your liver." She laughed softly as we made our way to my stack of food and alcohol. She groaned slightly as she sat down, her legs hanging off the deck beside mine, the charcuterie board and bottle of scotch sat between us.

"Is that a whole charcuterie board?" She chuckled, forcing me to look at it. They were catered by a local restaurant and they were absolutely class.

"I get the munchies." I chuckled.

"Mm me too." She hummed, I looked up to see her sucking the remnants of a slice of Brie cheese she'd eaten off her thumb.

"You smoke?" I asked her. She shrugged, looking out at my backyard and then up at the stars.

"I don't smoke, more partial to an edible- but, I will make an exception tonight." She smiled, turning to face me and leaning against a banister that was next to her. The moon illuminated her face in a way that made it hard to speak.

And so I didn't, instead I pulled the somehow uncrushed joint from my pocket along with a lighter and handed it to her.

"Ladies first." I offered, watching as she wrapped her lips around the filter and lit the end, taking an impressive drag, holding it a moment and then letting the smoke dissipate into the air before she handed it back to me.

I smiled at her as I took my own drag, feeling that familiar lightheadedness take over. I knew she was high because she started to giggle uncontrollably.

"What's so funny?" I smiled lazily, we began a cycle of puffing and passing effortlessly. She shrugged, covering her mouth as she laughed harder.

"Jesus- is this weed grown in heaven?" She asked, referring to its strength. A chuckle bubbled from between my lips and I nodded.

"May as well be, it's strong as fuck. I probably should have warned you." I smiled, watching her take another drag. She laughed but it was clear she was trying not to.

"I'm gonna eat the fuck out of this board." She said enthusiastically, both of us laughing loudly. I passed the joint back to her and opened the bottle of  scotch, taking a burning swig.

Her eyes widened and she gave me a wicked smirk, offering the joint and putting her hand out so we could swap.

I watched as she took a large mouthful of the drink, her face scrunching sweetly as she did.

"Can you hold your liquor?" I asked her, watching as she shook her head immediately.

"No, I will absolutely make a fool myself and maybe boke all over your lawn but that's future me's problem." She smiled brightly. I nodded a few times, chuckling.

"Sure, grand, look forward to it."

I wasn't sure how long we spent out there, eating, drinking, smoking (I'd even convinced her to smoke a cigarette) and talking but it had to have been at least 2 hours and yet it felt like a minute.

Time always flew alongside her.

———
Clodagh

I woke up wishing I hadn't. My head pounded like some kind of metallic claw was slowly crushing my skull. My stomach churned dangerously and my skin was clammy and pallid.

I wasn't 18 anymore and drinking and smoking until the wee hours of the morning now had a palpable effect on me. I dared to open my left eye just a little and was thrilled to find even in my hammered state I

Andy🎸: how are you feeling this morning?

Clo🍯: like I've been fucking steamrolled

Clo🍯: I hope you had a good birthday though!

Andy🎸: my liver will never forgive me but i had a grand time

Clo🍯: fair play you were knocking them back

Andy🎸: it was paddy's day AND my birthday of course i was

Clo🍯: I usually don't drink *and* smoke even on paddy's day

Andy🎸: yeah miss "I don't smoke" devolved pretty quickly into you smoking cigarettes and a joint on the balcony you loose lady

Clo🍯: you're a bad influence on me

Andy🎸: if you were better at beer pong you wouldn't have been so drunk, can't blame me for your abysmal hand eye coordination

Clo🍯: i hate you

Andy🎸: enough to get me a birthday present

Clo🍯: a heavily read book with my scrawlings all through it is hardly a great gift

—

"Texting your boyfriend, are we?"

I all but jumped out of my skin at the sound of my brother's voice. He had a habit of coming over unannounced, I was considering revoking his key privileges.

"Eat shit and die." I groaned, flopping back into bed and grabbing a pillow to bury my face into. Jame's laughter taunted me.

"Relax, I bring gifts and an offer of peace." He promised, his voice muffled as I pressed the pillow over my ears. I carefully peeled the pillow off to see him standing in my doorway, coffee and a brown paper bag (that better have a chocolate croissant in it) sat alluringly in a cardboard tray in his arms.

I stuck my hand out and gestured him inside where he sat on my bed and handed me a coffee. I took a sip of the hot, creamy liquid and sighed.

He peered over my shoulder, looking at my phone before I quickly yanked it away.

"Aww you have an emoji next to his name." He teased, I rolled my eyes and opened the brown paper bag he'd brought, taking a large bite out of a delectable chocolate croissant.

"He- he put that there." I said defensively. He looked ridiculously put together for someone who should be as hungover as I was,

"Does he have one for you?" James asked curiously in his deep, smooth voice. I shrugged, he did but I wanted to be casual about it.

"Ehm yeah I think it's a honeypot." I said idly, watching as he laughed and nodded repetitively.

"Oh yeah grand makes sense because he wants to dip in your honeypot-"

"Aanndd we're back to eat shit and die." I interrupted, watching as he rolled his eyes and laughed lightly.

"You like him, that's alright. That's allowed. He clearly likes you too." My brother said, his voice led to me believe he really was trying to be supportive. I sighed and shook my head.

"We're just friends."

Notes:

he wants her, she wants him, I want them both😔

Let me know what you all thought, I’m so excited to see these two progress 😈

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Notes:

Hey yall so I did indeed fall asleep before pressing post my BAD

Clodagh

"We're just friends." I whispered against the shell of his ear, though of course I wouldn't be quite so close to someone I was just friends with.

The statement was pointless as his lips made soft imprints along my throat and his hands squeezed at my hips as though he were juicing some kind of citrus, his grip hard and desperate and not without purpose.

"Uh huh." He grumbled, tucking long, pale fingers below my collar and pulling the material as far to the left as he could manage, desperately searching for more skin to baptise with his kiss.

I wasn't even sure how we got here, in his backyard all lips and sighs and touch. The moist grass of his backyard supported my back like a water bed, with give and sway and cushion. The cool evening air was no match for the warmth of our bodies pressed together.

My animal body responded instinctively to him, my breath quick and intense, my heart hammering against my ribs, my skin prickly and spattered with goosebumps.

I gave in quickly, digging my fingers into his thick, beautiful hair and tugging as his teeth nibbled at my shoulder.

"I wanna undress you, Clodagh." He whispered in a sultry, convincing, distinctly Irish tone. The words made me weak, melting the stiffness between my joints, melting the apprehension in my bones.

"There's- there's so many people around." I gasped quietly as he traced the curve of my neck with my lips, like he was committing me to memory. His birthday was seemingly the event of the season, there were people everywhere- it was too public. My breath was like water, spilling from parted lips.

"No love, it's just you and me." He murmured sweetly into my ear, his words tickled and as if they had some kind of magic, they suddenly became true.

The pillowy cushion of soft moist grass was suddenly the cloud like mattress of a bed, of his bed. The soft orange glow of the two lamps on both night stands illuminated him like a god.

His cheeks were warmed by the sweet light and his eyes positively glittered at me. I chewed my lip, taking the time to really look at him.

His hair was tied back and lips were kiss swollen, his eyes held a gaze I couldn't quite make out. He looked at me like I was something to worship, he also looked at me with a want that made me think he was about to swallow me whole.

He held me in his gaze, fixed and unmoving for a moment, absorbing all he could of my face in the light, of my face below him.

"Say something, birdy." He urged quietly, the words low and almost too soft to be heard. My heart fluttered at the nickname. I smiled a little, actions spoke louder than words and as I began to slowly unbutton his shirt, he sighed in some kind of relief.

I didn't want to come across as too ravenous but as I slowly revealed his milky skin I only wanted to see more, his chest was decorated with sparse dark hair and as my eyes fell to his navel and the dark snail trail that was hidden abruptly at his jeans- I felt my heart start to thud harder.

"I don't care if we're just friends- I want you- I don't care if you throw me out tomorrow- I don't care if you hate me after this. I want you Clodagh. I want to see how good I can make you feel, I want to see what you look like when you come." He spoke, half whisper, half something more rabid, desperate- animal. Before I could respond he was kissing me and God he was good. He took it slow, sucking my lip between his teeth, pressing his thumb to the base of my jaw.

I sighed softly, our bodies finding a shared frequency, rocking against each other slowly.

I could feel him now, pressing against the confines of his jeans, he was warm and I could practically feel him throbbing.

He wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

I felt him twitch when a soft moan escaped my lips, his hands growing rougher in their exploration of me. He grabbed at whatever he could find, his fingers attacking flesh that spilt from my blouse.

"I thought you were so so beautiful the moment I laid eyes on you." I whispered, ready to take this to the next level, ready to feel what it might be like to have him buried inside of me.

But slowly my mind turned to water, something making ripples in the inky depth of my consciousness, a repetitive chirp slowly becoming louder, slowly pulling me away from him.

I opened my mouth, trying to plead to stay, but nothing came out.

My eyes flickered open and I was hit with the kind of shock you'd associate with an ice bath. My body jolted upward and teleported itself into the familiar womb of my own house and my own bed.

My phone was ringing incessantly on the nightstand, allowing me no time at all to adjust to reality after the most dreamiest of dreams.

"This is too early to be calling." I gasped into phone, its ring had just bolted me awake and I was still in shock. My skin was dewy with sweat and my heart was still fluttering in my chest. Images of Andrew posted above me, dedicating his full attention to me, ran through my mind no matter how hard I tried to shake them.

Dream blurred imaginings of him whizzed behind my eyes, I felt a sick guilt for picturing him the way I had. I also felt an odd sense of aliveness.

"Clo, it's 11, you're supposed to be at work." The soft voice of my brother chuckled down the line. My stomach sunk like a brick and I shot up into a sitting position.

11?

I usually woke at 7, I wondered how long I'd been dreaming of him, how long he'd occupied my mind- invading without question.

My mind was still fogged over from the dream but I could feel my thoughts slowly piece themselves back together.

"Fuck what? I- I totally overslept shit I'm sorry I'll be in ASAP."

"No stress no stress, just wanted to make sure you weren't dead or anything." He chuckled forgivingly. I groaned and rubbed my temple, sleeping in like this was beyond out of character for me.

"I am alive, just about. I'll see you soon." I mumbled, thinking about what I was going to wear for work and what I could eat quickly for breakfast.

I glanced at my bed side table for a moment, my vibrator was in the top drawer- I thought about making myself even later for work, elongating the sweet lust of my dream but I couldn't- I'd be in bed all day and besides, he was my friend.

"See you soon, we got stock in- get here before Clyde gets into it and breaks his back."

———

"Well I'm just sayin' I wouldn't have gotten away with being late in my day." Clyde's grumbly Scottish timbre floated across the counter to me. He was wiping down the bench making fragrant coffee grinds falling into the bin behind it.

"Sure like- but you weren't the boss then." I teased, my day was slowly winding down- it had been easy considering I didn't get to work until 12 and we close at 5. It was 4:45 and Clyde and I were slowly packing up. I'm sure my brain's insistence on replaying the most delicious parts of my dream last night also helped the day crawl by.

The afternoon sun was swimming through the large windowed storefront, mellowing out over the wooden floor and threatening to break into sunset.

A soft playlist of old jazz hung in the air like smoke, I looked over at Grouchy who was curled up on the window seat, soaking in as much sun as she could- and felt jealous. Her fur glowed in the light and her little body expanded with each of her breaths.

"Even when I was, I wasn't late." He mused teasingly. I rolled my eyes and nodded.

"Uh huh, uh huh, perfect little worker Clyde." I responded, I had been sweeping but now I was just leant against the counter with my idle broom.

"I was thank you." He smiled, his papery face somehow always seemed a little cheery, even when he was yelling at someone for something.

I was thinking of something witty to come back at him with when we heard the jingle of the front door opening. I glanced up to see a slightly flustered gingery woman, she made instant eye contact with me and a sweet smile crawled across her appled cheeks.

"Are you still open?" She asked breathlessly, something about her made me feel at ease. I nodded immediately, smiling at her.

"Of course, we're open for another fifteen but I'll be here a while so no rush at all." I assured her, smiling brightly. She smiled back at me with shiny green eyes before glancing around the store.

"You guys do coffee?" She asked as her gaze landed on the coffee cart. I hummed out a confirmation before Clyde interrupted.

"Coffee machine is cleaned and closed for the day but I can do yeh a mean cuppa tea if you like." He said in his almost grating accent. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Sounds grand, Irish breakfast, milk, no sugar if that's all alright." She requested, prompting an acknowledging grunt and thumbs up from Clyde who instantly began boiling the kettle.

"How long have you been open?" She asked, slowly walking around the front of the store. I smiled brightly, I was always happy to answer questions about the shop which was very quickly becoming my prized possession.

"A little over a month now."

"Business been good?" She queried with a kind curiosity. I nodded proudly, we'd been smashing the targets James and I had originally set for ourselves.

"Couldn't have asked for more support honestly." I said, trying to sound gracious- because I was. James and I had been utterly shocked by the positive reception the store had received.

She pouted sweetly and nodded.

"That's grand like." She responded happily before her eyes landed on one of the new releases, a crime novel about a young girl from London. She gasped in recognition and picked up a copy.

"I've been looking for this one- no other stores in the city have it and I'm not a big online shopper to be honest with you." She hummed absentmindedly. I nodded, I could agree with her there. There was something about the rush of buying something and having it instantly in your hands that did it for me.

"D'ye want me to hang onto for you will you have a look around?" I offered, extending my hand out. She gave me a prompt nod and smile.

"Thank you, pet." She said gratefully, slowly placing the novel in my open palm. I gave her a smile back and returned to the counter where I placed the book.

Clyde soon brought her the cup of tea he'd promised and the woman cupped it gently in her hands, sipping as she browsed before she returned with two more books, carefully adding them to the pile and grabbing her purse from her bag.

"Nice choices." I complimented as I scanned the books. In all fairness I said that to just about every customer I served, however, this time I wasn't lying.

"I think so, should keep me out of trouble." She said certainly as she tapped her card on the machine. She sighed and rolled her eyes when her phone began to buzz.

"Sorry love, just one second." She said apologetically before answering.

"Hello love, where are ye' then? I'm at the bookstore." She began, one handedly shoving her phone back into her purse as I slid complimentary bookmarks into each of her books.

"Ah yes that one, you're right, her eyes are stunning." The gingery woman smirked at me as I bagged her items. My ears pricked a little and I wondered who she was on the phone too. Was she referring to me?

"Alright- sorry love- oh yep- alright, uh huh, okay bye." She chuckled before putting her phone back in her large handbag.

"Kids." She rolled her eyes as I handed her the paper bag full of books. I snickered and nodded.

"I hear they're right little shites." I agreed, pulling a laugh from her. She nodded repeatedly and hummed.

"Sure are- even when they're pushin' t'irty." She chuckled, but my attention was pulled to the front door that swung open quickly, revealing a tall, flustered man.

Andy.

"Sir, I really am sorry but we're closed." I teased, folding my arms over my chest. He looked at me with a sly smirk and tutted as he approached the counter. I made a real effort to seem normal, unreasonably terrified he'd take one look at me and know about the dream.

"I told ye' Ma, don't come here. The customer service is abysmal." He chuckled and suddenly it clicked, the woman's face echoed his. He was her son. I suddenly felt mortified, I was talking to the mother of the man I'd had an almost sex dream about last night.

"She's been very nice to me." The woman quipped back at him, raising a brow and shrugging. I chuckled quietly and nodded.

"Must be a you problem." I said to Andrew, my brows raising a moment. Both of them laughed, their laughs were very similar. It was funny to see them mirrored in one another.

I thought about how I should probably call my own mother. I then thought about how little I wanted to do that.

"Probably, Ma this is my friend Clodagh, Clodagh this is my mother Rainey." Andrew introduced us, smiling sweetly, his eyes lingering on mine a moment. I swallowed a lump in my throat. I'd seen those eyes in my dreams.

"It's lovely to meet you Clodagh, this place is absolutely wonderful." She flattered me, taking her bag of books off the counter.

"Thank you so much, it was so nice to meet you too." I offered, my voice sound a touch more excited than I'd hoped it would. Andrew smiled at me, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip for a moment.

He looked at me through dark rimmed glasses today, they made him look like an academic.

I liked it.

———
Andrew

"Well we better let you close, I don't want to be the reason you go home late. I'll see you for my next read." Ma smiled from beside me, looking up at Clodagh sweetly. It had felt oddly natural to introduce the two. I hadn't seen her since last Thursday when she invited me to drink with her friends again and so when mum told me she was popping in to get a book, I was more than happy to meet her there.

I didn't want to leave but as I glanced at my watch I knew my brother would be out the front soon. We were going out for dinner, dad was out of town and mum wanted to spend more time with us.

Jon was meeting us outside so we could share a taxi and I knew if he came in here and saw how I was with Clodagh- I'd never live it down.

"Of course, thank you. We'll see you next time." She beamed at my mother, her smile practically glowing at us.

I still didn't want to say goodbye, I knew realistically I'd see her soon and I'd text her later but as I watched her chat between Clyde and Ma, all soft eyed and sweet- I found it hard to leave.

She looked at me before I could say bye and hummed, her face scrunched cutely- she was clearly trying to remember something.

"Ehm one of Conor's old friends is doing a comedy set later this week, Conor asked me to invite you." She said  as she remembered, placing her hand on her hip after she spoke. She was in a fine woollen jumper of deep purple, the colour made her eyes all the more hypnotising.

"Are you going?" I asked her without thinking. She chuckled, scratching her face lazily as she did. The action brushed the lip of her sweater to the side, revealing a patch of soft skin above her hip, stained with more ink.

I thought about what she'd said at my birthday, about showing me her tattoos while I pinned her to the ground, my knees grew slightly weak at the memory.

"Sure am." She replied.

"Then tell him yes." I said quickly, perhaps too quickly. She nodded a few times, smiling at me, the expression verged on smug but I let it slide. It was too hard to maintain our usual banter when the sunlight filtered through the curves of her dark curls that were thrown up in some kind of clip at the back of her head. Her hair smelled floral most of the time, at my birthday it had smelled of patchouli and vanilla.

"Okay grand, I'll text you." She smiled, for some reason I was convinced she knew what I thought about her. I found myself unnecessarily scared that she could see right through me, that she could see what she did to me.

"Totally, ehm, see you, bye." I mumbled, turning to leave, mum close beside me.

"Why didn't you tell us you were dating the nice bookstore lady?" My mother asked the absolute second we were out of earshot. I almost choked at the question, had I been that obvious?

"He's not that's why, he's just secretly obsessed with her." I jolted, sucking in a sharp breath at the surprising sound of my brother's voice. He had been waiting outside after all. I’d told him a little about Clodagh but it seems he was piecing together what he thought about us pretty quickly.

"Think that secret is long out of the bag but sure." Ma laughed to herself, I could now very quickly feel myself start to blush. I wasn't used to this, I had been with Michelle for a while- now that I was single I guess I was fair game.

My mind dragged itself back to the day we'd first met in person and the night when I'd almost had her lips on mine. I wondered what now may have looked like if I hadn't fumbled the moment so entirely.

I wondered if we'd be seeing each other, if I'd have taken her to bed...

"Christ, quite old fashioned to think a lad can't just be friends with a woman. Her name is Clodagh by the way." I grumbled, not wanting to zone out for the fear of being accused of day dreaming about her (which I was.)

"And she's lovely, perfect for you." Mum assured me, squeezing my bicep over my shirt as we walked towards the restaurant we were going to eat at.

"We're not-"

"But he wants to be." Jon interrupted me with a wicked smirk. He and Michelle had not gotten along, now he was associating me with whichever woman were closest.

"No- I didn't say that, that's not what I-" I sighed, starting to grow frustrated.

"So you're not attracted to her?" Jon asked, warranting silence from me and a stern look from Ma.

"Ehm..."

Notes:

hope you enjoyed!
Sorry ICYN finale is taking forever, I am having a hard time with my mental and physical health and I am not feeling very motivated to write but I’ll get it out as soon as I can.
Let me know what you thought x

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Notes:

I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO UPLOAD TBIS FOR BOURS 😭😭😭😭

Clodagh

"I can't return it, sir." I sighed tiredly, an angry bald headed man fumed in front of me. Between us, on the counter was a copy of a book about American War History. He'd bought it a few days ago, I remembered, I was the one who sold it to him.

"It's damaged!" He explained, flipping the book open to show me the coffee soiled pages. I looked at him, he was about half a foot shorter than me and so had to look up to even speak to me.

"And I wonder how that happened?" I responded, trying not to be rude. The man had spilt his own coffee on the pages, I hadn't sold it to him like this.

"Sure like I don't know! I just opened it and it was like that!" He exclaimed, giving me no choice but to roll my eyes. Annoying customers (though admittedly few and far between here) were the bane of my existence. They did an amazing job of showing how shitty the general public could be.

"No, it wasn't. I'm not returning it and that's my final decision." I said sternly, tapping my fingers rhythmically on the counter top. He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck.

"Useless bitch." He muttered below his breath, furrowing his brows as he turned to leave. I swallowed patiently, working on biting my tongue even though my entire body itched to insult him back. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. I thought about how later today I’d be with Andrew and this would just be another memory of another shitty customer.

"Alright, get out of here you feckin' prick."

A deep, quiet but stern voice forced me to open my eyes. Before me was the man who'd just called me a bitch now scuttling out of my store and Harry, one of James' old friends. I hadn't seen him since high school but he looked the same, just a little taller, a little more muscular and with a far better fashion sense than his go to basketball shorts in high school.

"Clodagh, long time no see." He smiled broadly at me, his teeth were perfect, the last time I'd seen him I was sure he'd had braces.

"Harry, look at you." I chuckled warmly, tucking my hair behind my ears. He gave me a knowing smile and nodded slowly, shrugging.

"I know puberty hit me like a truck- only took 19 years." He smiled, he'd been quite a scrawny teenager but the man who stood before me was exactly that- a man. A fully grown, muscular man.

"Hey better late than never. I'm sorry to say James is on lunch but he'll be back in like 20 if you want to wait." I explained, playing with the straps of my apron (a black garment with two cute embroidered birds on it.)

He smiled nervously, a small blush staining his cheeks. He scratched the short clipped hairs at the back of his neck and nodded.

"Ehm yeah, I will do that- can never miss a chance to hang with the lad but I was actually here to see you." He admitted, chewing the inside of his cheek. The words lit something within me and I pursed my lips.

"Oh- ehm me?" I asked, wishing I hadn't sounded so awkward. He chuckled and nodded his confirmation, I was only now realising as the sun hit his face how attractive he was. His big brown eyes literally glowed in the sun...

"Yeah I uh, the other day I came in and you didn't see me but uh I saw you and I've always thought you were so smart and funny and uh frankly beautiful- I chickened out that day but I now uh just wondered if I could talk you out for dinner sometime soon?" He asked anxiously, his pretty smile faltering with a sweet nervousness. For a second, before my mouth had the words to respond, Andrew's face popped into mind.

I shook my head with frustration, we were friends Andrew made that very clear.

"That'd be nice, Harry." I finally smiled in response, the soft flutter of butterfly wings grazed against the insides of my stomach. He let out an obvious breath of relief and nodded.

"Okay, okay- I uh honestly wasn't really expecting you to say yes- can I grab your number?" He asked sheepishly, causing me a small laugh and a nod. His sweet nervousness only seemed to draw me in.

"Yeah of course, give me your phone." I smiled, papering my hand out to him as he placed the dead weight of his phone in my palm.

I typed my name and number into a new contact before handing his phone back.

"Cool grand uh thanks. I ehm know this place that does a fucking class tapas on Thursdays?" He suggested sweetly, grasping his muscular forearm with his opposite hand. Thursday was three nights away.

I was free.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

———

Over the past month or so we'd known each other, Andrew and I had quickly become close friends. There was something between us, neither of us outwardly acknowledged- like the flicker of a camp fire. It was always smouldering, keeping us close to one another- sometimes, in my dreams or in the moments that he really looked at me, it roared- but never for long enough that one of us actually did something about it and so whatever this thing was, the urge that kept us in touch, simmered and was fed by the innocent time we'd been spending together.

I'd been out to his place maybe 10 times since we'd met, this time I was the staying the night. It was innocent, innocuous even, purely logistical. We wanted to smoke but then I couldn't drive and taxis were expensive and took forever to get out to his place so it just made the most sense for me to crash in the spare room.

Right?

I pulled in to Andrew's drive, the gate was already open (he knew how much I hated speaking to the stupid intercom he had,) and so I parked right up in front of the closed garage door. My heart was pounding, thudding hard and rhythmically as I grabbed my duffel bag from the passenger seat and locked my car.

I stood in front of his door for a moment before texting him.

Clo🍯: let me in

Andy🎸: you're so opposed to knocking

Clo🍯: yeah because you never fucking hear me

Andy🎸: touché.

I smiled as he opened the door, his hair was pulled back but it didn't stop wayward locks from falling by his slender face. He was dressed down in an old flannel (he'd buttoned the buttons wrong,) and some grey sweats. I looked down at the sweats and almost gasped, at how they emphasised what he was hiding under there.

If I was fighting my attraction to him before, this certainly wasn't helping. I made a conscious effort to look at his face.

"Clodagh." He greeted me with a lazy smile, tilting his head to side, his eyes alight as I stood before him.

"Andrew." I responded, about to lug the straps of my bag over my shoulder when he took it from me, curling his large hands around the straps and smiling dutifully.

"Ehm, c'mon in I made up the room next to mine." He offered sheepishly, gesturing me inside before we walked to the spare room.

It was a nice room, airy and full of light. The queen sized bed was made and there were cable holders on the nightstand that held a phone charger and a headphone charger. I was flattered by his attention to detail.

"Sure like I'm staying at the ritz then?" I teased as he placed my bag on the end of the bed. There was something so sweet about the fact he'd clearly cleaned and made up an entire room for my one night stay.

"Exactly, but like slumber party version." He chuckled as I kicked off my shoes and left them by the door. I liked how feet sunk into the soft carpet, how my toes splayed in my socks and the stress of the day seemed to subside into the floor.

"Oh that's what this is? A slumber party?" I asked as he left the room, his movements were fluid, he seemed to glide.

"Mmhm but instead of pillow fights and hot chocolate it'll be weed and mi goreng." He smiled, raising his brows. I nodded and sucked in a nice sharp breath.

"You got mi goreng?" I asked him hopefully, watching him smirk and nod proudly.

"Sure did- you said it was your favourite high snack." He explained as my teeth sunk into my bottom lip and I shrugged.

"It fucking is- sweet, salty, spicy- just fucking class, nothing touches it." I insisted, pinching my thumb and my middle fingers together in front of my face to punctuate my passion. He smiled at me, all glittering green eyes and nervous pink tint.

"I actually haven't tried it." He then admitted, rendering me dumbfounded in the living room, watching his grin grow as he watched me go speechless.

"I'm sorry what?" I asked him, letting my jaw hang in shock. The over exaggerated expression only made him roll his eyes at me. He brought his large hand out and squeezed my shoulder, my entire body just about melted. I now knew what each of his fingertips felt like pressed into the skin above my clavicle and what his thumb felt like teasing the precipice of my shoulder blade.

"I know, I know." He confessed, letting me go and letting us flick into the living room. His couch was draped in blankets and cushions, the x-box controllers were laid out on the coffee table along side two bottles of water. I knew that on the kitchen table, a small wooden box containing two joints we would share would be sitting ready.

It was and we quickly ducked outside into the spot we'd smoked at his party, drugs in hand.

—

"Wait- wait, so I'm sorry, you have been on two international tours- cramped into a bus that, and I'm making an assumption here Andy, uh doesn’t have a decked out kitchen?" I asked him, coughing slightly as I waved earthy smoke out of my face. He handed me the joint which he'd just hit and nodded, letting out a smooth hum of agreement.

"And you haven't fucking tried mi goreng? Quintessential tour food I would assume- what? Do they not let you around the boiling water?" I asked, teasing him mercilessly.

I knew he was already high, we sat on the edge of his deck facing each other, leant against the banisters that connected the deck to the roof. He was smiling lazily and his eyes were glazed over, red and misty. The joint was dwarfed in his hands but it mine it seemed large...

"Yeah I lost my kettle privileges." He sighed jokingly before he cracked into a laugh that made my heart jump.

"But no, in reality I've just always eaten the beef flavoured ramen." He explained himself, raising his brows as a thanks when I handed him the joint back.

"Okay A) pretty sure it's blasphemy to describe instant noodles as ramen on their own and B) beef? Are you a child?" I asked him pointedly, watching him tut and roll his eyes at me. He kicked my shin gently with his foot, he was wearing one green sock and one striped sock.

"I know what I like." He chuckled with an open mouthed smile. I liked making him laugh, I liked how easy he was to talk to.

"Mm that's what children say." I reiterated, watching as he laughed again. His cheeks were rosy and his head tilted back.

"You're so mean to me." He whined, only pulling a look of discontent from me.

"You like it." I accused, my voice came out more sultry than I'd anticipated. His long eyelashes fluttered as he looked at me.

"Unfortunately, I do." He confessed, looking at me so deeply I had that fear again that he could read my mind.

"What did you do today?" He then asked, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly at me. I found myself growing shy under his constant stare and so I turned my head to face his yard.

Misty rain hung in the air, the tiny droplets seemingly evaded the laws of gravity. Green fields rolled out from below his deck, there were guest houses just down the hill in the distance and a few trees, maple, willow, oak.

"I got abused by an old man at work." I chuckled, turning from his lush property to him. His eyes widened slightly and his mouth opened with shock, though there was still a smile plastered across his face.

"What?" He asked incredulously.

"Mm, I served this old guy the other day and he's like mildly unpleasant- whatever, they usually are but then he came back today and get this... He brings back the book he bought with coffee spilt throughout it and insinuates I fucking sold it to him like that." I began, pausing to take yet another drag of the joint before handing it back, ignoring how my fingertips tingled brushing his.

"Did you return it for him?" He asked me slowly through an amused (high) smile. I adored seeing him so hazy, seeing the patch of his chest that was exposed by his open buttons or the long column of his neck which was the perfect mix of graceful and masculine.

"Uh... no." I giggled myself, forgetting I wasn't the only high one here.

"No- I was like trying to tell him that obviously I didn't sell him a book just like fucking saturated in coffee and he wasn't havin' it like." I continued, picturing the man and the book in my mind as I leant into the retelling of the story.

"What did he say?" Andrew chuckled, the sound was low and bubbled from his throat deeply.

"He called me a useless bitch actually." I sighed.

"Christ, what the fuck? D'ye knock his dentures out?" He asked loudly, half laughing half gasping. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"I should have but I ehm- just like told him I wouldn't return it and eventually he left." I shrugged, pursing my lips. I didn't want him to know about Harry, I didn't want him to think I was seeing someone else.
He smiled slowly and nodded a few times before rolling his eyes.

"Fucks sake, you shouldn't have to put up with that." He sighed, shaking his head. I nodded but brushed it off.

"It's fine, like must have a pretty sad life to be trying to return a book he spilled coffee in." I said, thinking aloud before my face dropped. Andrew knew exactly what I was thinking and shook his head.

"No, Clodagh."

"What?" I asked defensively.

"Don't tell me you feel bad for the guy." He accused, pointing at me, his free hand pressing the joint between his fingers. I tutted and shrugged.

"I- I dunno. He- what if he needed the money for dinner or something?" I asked, chewing on the inside of my cheek. 15 quid wasn't a lot to me, but perhaps it had been to the man. Andrew groaned and shook his head, pointing straight at me.

"No, no- he's a prick, if he needed the money he would've returned the book without a mug of coffee spilt through it- and he would have been nicer." He argued, leaning forward. I had noticed he seemed to generally have an aversion to eye contact, however, with me it felt like he could stare right into my soul with no issue.

"Yeah okay you're right, you're right. How's work been for you?" I asked him, he didn't really talk about it all that much. So much so that I tended to forget he was a world famous musician. To me he was Andy, awkward, sweet, funny, admittedly rather sexy...

"Good, I'm uh working on some ideas." He said vaguely, getting this kind of information from him truly was like pulling teeth.

"For a third album?" I asked, not letting him get away with holding onto all the details.

"Yeah, I've been feeling more inspired these past couple of weeks." He said, the words seemed oddly cryptic. I nodded, releasing him from the obligation of saying anything more.

"Actually, while I remember- I have a small gig in the city on Thursday night you should come." He suggested, his eyes alight at the proposed invitation. I bit my lip and sighed. Thursday was my date with Harry and I couldn't very well bring him to Andrew's show. But fuck- I wanted to see Andrew's show.

"I can't on Thursday. I have plans with the group that I really can't wiggle out of, they're still mad I canceled on Paddy's day." I sighed, feeling genuinely deflated and even a hint of guilt. I didn't even realise at first that I'd lied to him, that I'd told him I was seeing friends.

"Ah it's alright, you'll see one of my shows at one point I s'pose." He said with a sigh and he was right, I hoped. I wanted to see him play live more than I'd like to admit.

"Fancy yourself some kind of singer then?" I asked with a smirk, he laughed and gave me that casual shrug  I liked so much.

"Something like that, I'm far better at ping pong though." He said suspiciously. My brows raised.

"Oh?"

 

———

"Fuck! Fuck! I hate you."

Andrew's frustration made me chuckle, he'd insisted he'd be able to beat me at ping pong, though now we actually played he wasn't having so much luck. We were in his garage that was decked out with a ping pong table, a dart board and a mini fridge full of alcohol. Sometimes I thought he truly was just an adult teenage boy.

After our joint on the deck we’d eaten our mi goreng (which of course he’d loved.) and then he’d demanded we play. He wasn’t the most coordinated at the best of times and so it was no surprise that beating him had been easy.

"You're a sore. fucking. loser." I accused, leaning over the table to point at him. He cracked a pissed off smirk and shook his head. At this point it was probably 11pm, I'd been here for hours and yet it had felt like minutes.

"You're cheating." He threw back with his own accusation, forcing me to roll my eyes and shake my head.

"How do you feckin' cheat at ping pong?" I asked, watching his eyes dart to the white ball on the floor to my left. I knew he was going to confiscate it and so I got there first, leaping down to grab the small globe.

I raised my arm up, my hands curled around the ball- and started a war between us. I felt his hand wrap around my wrist in pursuit of the ball.

"Fuck off." I spat with a laugh as his arms wrapped around me, his familiar smell encapsulating me at the same time.

He was almost intoxicating.

———
Andrew

For clarity it should be said, I didn't give a fuck about the ball.

"Give me that- it's my serve." I demanded as her back pressed to my chest and I desperately tried to pry the ball from her grip. Her long hair was in a plait today, the thick rope was the only thing besides our clothes pressed between us.

I was rendered drunk by her scent, vanilla and smoky rose. She wiggled fervently, refusing to give in, which considering her stubborn personality was no surprise.

"No piss off, you thinking I'm cheating." She accused which only made me chuckle and try harder to steal the thing from her. I didn’t really think she was cheating but now her body was pressed to mine, her soft smell was filling my nose and her soft laughs were filtering through smoky air to my ears- I didn’t want to stop whatever this was.

"You are- I know it." I whispered into her ear, her head pressed to my collarbone as she thrashed in my grip.

“I’m not letting go.” She said firmly though jovially. I hummed and shrugged, grabbing her hips and spinning her to face me.

Her eyes were alight, glistening with excitement and her lips were parted as she took quick, heavy breaths. I shook my head evilly at her.

“Give it.” I insisted, neither of us mentioning the way my hands circled her waist. She shook her head, one of her thick brows raised as she fixed her honey coloured gaze on me.

Everything in me screamed at me to kiss her. I wanted to feel her fall apart around me, I wanted to know what she tasted like. My ache for her grew more unbearable everyday.

She blinked a few times, her thick black lashes fluttering up at me. I wondered if she knew how she haunted my thoughts, how her face was the last one I thought of before I went to sleep.

My eyes darted to her lips, moist and open and the most damn kissable things I’d ever seen.

My body felt alive around her, trying not to kiss her made me feel like there were ants crawling under my skin. She was a drug, I hadn’t even tried and was already hooked on.

I leant forward, looking down, my forehead pressed to hers as we breathed together. She was looking up at me, waiting for my next move. I knew if I kissed her she’d be in my bed in less than ten minutes.

She was right there, she was so close and as my face moved forward, she was only getting closer.

I could feel our breath turn to one between us, my eyes closed slowly, I was giving in, I wanted her. I needed her. This was it.

In the millisecond before the best kiss of my life happened, Michelle’s face appeared in my mind, pulling me back like a wave dragging me out to sea. We’d broken up a little while ago but it was still too soon.

I gasped as I pulled away from Clodagh, watching her tut and nod slowly, rolling her eyes.

"I can’t- Clodagh, not like this." I mumbled weakly, pressing my forehead to hers once more, letting my hands grip her blouse tightly between my fingers. I didn’t want a kiss and a quick fuck. I wanted to be present for her, I wanted to be over my ex and healthy. I wanted to be the kind of man for her that I couldn’t be for my exes.

“Jesus, Andrew. Again? Really?” She whispered, pulling away and nodding, her eyes half rolling. I instantly wanted to vomit all over the floor in front of us. I wasn’t ready for her- I couldn’t be what she deserved yet but I didn’t want her to think I didn’t want her.

“I- Clodagh, Christ I’m sorry- I don’t know what’s happening.” I breathed, watching her turn to the side and then look at me. Her eyes were narrowed in frustration and her nostrils flared.

“Right well, you’re drunk and high so I’m gonna go to bed I think- uh yeah- that’s what I uh that’s what I’m gonna do- good night I guess.”

And then she was gone.

And I was fucking done for.

Notes:

okay please please let me know what you guys think, I’ve been really unmotivated as of late but I’m getting back into the swing of things.

ICYN will be out soon too x

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Notes:

Enjoy <3 sorry for any typos im too tired to finish proof reading

 

Insta:
clumsyletters_

Clodagh

"Do you want some breakfast?"

I stopped in my tracks, perhaps I was so hungover maybe I was seeing things. I'd woken up around 7, showered in his ridiculously lush bathroom, changed and planned on leaving now. The entire morning I’d been stewing in my anger at him- he’d done exactly the same thing that had turned me off him the first time.

What I hadn't planned on while doing all this seething was seeing Andrew in the kitchen. He was notoriously a late sleeper, in fact seeing him awake before noon was almost unheard of. I wondered if he’d woken up just to talk. Or if perhaps he hadn’t slept at all.

I groaned and looked at him, pursing my lips as I took him in. He was in the same sweats as last night but a different shirt, a t-shirt that let a pale lip of his torso see the sun. My eyes lingered on his snail trail before they trailed back up to his face, his hair was down, long and bushy and his glasses were perched on his nose.

The look he gave me, as if everything were normal made my blood boil.

"No I don't want any fucken' breakfast to be honest." I nurtured below my breath, yanking my bag up over my shoulder and making my way for the door.

"Come on, Clodagh I'm sorry, please don't say I've fucked this up again." He sighed from behind me in the kitchen, his lithe form leaning against the counter. I chuckled and nodded slightly as I turned around.

"And what exactly is... 'this' Andrew- because I keep thinking we're friends but that gets a little tricky when you keep tryna neck me." I said snarkily, knitting my brows at him. I watched his neck as he swallowed and nodded softly. I wasn't a violent person but when his face cracked into a sly smirk I wanted to hit him.

"Okay yes- that's confusing... sure but-"

"Confusing? Confusing?! Don't piss me off. Whatever, you don't want to kiss me that's okay but for the record I just wanted to be friends- you were the one who tried to cross that line both times." I accused, turning to face him, wishing I didn't feel so drawn to him. This would be so much easier if I didn't want to keep him in my life.

"I know, I know and I'm sorry."

"Ohhh I'm Andrew the weeping musician, the broken bard, the tortured artist. I'm sorry I'm playing with your feelings I just think you're super pretty but I'm in shreds from my ex!" I spat, mocking him in an over exaggerated manner. Hangovers made me cranky, my temper was razor sharp and just as thin.

My pulse quickened anxiously as I realised how rude I'd just been. Andrew looked blankly at me, his face all big green eyes and sharp, masculine angles was unreadable.

I was only confused when he cracked into a smile before starting to laugh.

"Sorry- that was funny, you're funny you know? And you've hit the nail on the head." He hummed, running a graceful hand through his hair. I wished he wasn't so effortlessly charming. I had been told he was shy and awkward, and sometimes he was but there was a suaveness to him I couldn't put my finger on.

"Piss off." I spat, turning to leave before I felt an unusually large hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, gritting my teeth and turning around. I hated how he held me in his palm- I knew I was letting him manipulate me…

He was close, I could feel his warm breath and my eyes found themselves examining each thread of his shirt as he stood within suck close proximity. That pine and tobacco smelled engulfed me once more, somehow softening my sensibilities.

"Hey, I was super faded. I am really sorry. It won't happen again." He promised, looking down at me. I grit my teeth, unsure of what to say to him, unsure if i could even process words and look at him at the same time.

"Uh, I'm going to the sugar club after my gig for goldenplec's blockparty jams on Thursday night. If you find some time after seeing the gang you should swing by. Singing is my only talent, you should probably see it at one point, might raise your option of me." He commented lazily, I found myself counting the flecks of brown spattered across his verdant irises.

"Probably not." I grumbled, though realistically I knew if I saw him singing I'd probably kiss him myself. He scoffed.

"Well, if you change your mind, text me. I'll send you the address." He murmured, his gaze softening on my face. I was locked into his stare, and for a moment I felt the same feeling I get when he tries to kiss me.

"Uh what? Yeah- okay, whatever. I'm gonna go now." I mumbled, pushing him away gently, though probably just so I could feel his chest beneath my palms.

I didn't look at him as I grabbed the door handle of his front door and when he made one more plea for our friendship, I shot him a lazy thumbs up before darting to my car.

He was indecisive and unpredictable and verging on manipulative and yet despite all that, on my reflective journey home, all I could think about was the fact he'd agreed when I said he thought I was pretty.

———
Andrew

Clo🍯: I'm lightly inebriated, my plans have come to their natural end and I'm wondering if you're still playing.

"Thank God." Rory, my drummer, muttered from beside me. The air was thick in the bar, a mixture of beer and sweat and cheap perfume, we were sat in the back corner, facing a now empty stage. The gig had gone well and we were all stewing in that post show adrenaline, with sweaty skin and racing hearts.

"Hmm?" I responded lazily to him, tearing my eyes from my phone, that was glowing with the first text Clodagh had sent me since I'd fucked everything up yet again, almost kissing her in my garage...

Clearly she’d forgiven me… Or she’d decided she was curious enough to watch me perform.

"Clodagh's texted him!" He called out to Alex who was coming around the corner with a fresh pint in hand. A twinge of embarrassment flickered in me.

"Christ, maybe he'll stop moping, is she coming to afters?" Alex asked, the leather couch dipping beside me as he sat down and took a large swig from his pint. I nodded.

"Yeah, yeah she is."

They both nodded, sharing a look I wasn't included in. It was slowly becoming clearer that whatever this situation was with Clodagh, my friends were starting to notice.

Andy🎸: the show is over and it's just the players and our friends but I imagine I'll be doing a little more singing

Clodagh🍯: address?

My mouth watered at the thought of seeing her, my fingers couldn't send the address fast enough.

"So she's finally gonna see him sing then?" Rory said to Alex, cocking his brow at me. I grit my teeth but smiled, rolling my eyes and picking my pint off the coffee table, taking a gulp of the half finished beverage.

"Looks like it, better put on a good show mate. How much of that Guinness ye' had?" Rory asked, nudging me with his shoulder. I scoffed, wishing I wasn't sandwiched between him and Alex.

"More than enough, another pint and I'll be falling off the feckin' stage." I chuckled, I was grateful Clodagh texted now when my confidence was nurtured by alcohol. I wasn't sure that I had it in me to confront her sober, to try and explain without outing myself that I thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen and that the only thing stopping me from completely falling for her was my own damn baggage.

"Can't do that in front of Clodaghhhh. Especially not now she's forgiven you." Alex teased mercilessly. I groaned and gave him a harsh glare, his brown eyes only crinkled under my stare and he began to snicker.

"Feck off. She's a friend, for fucks sake ye' not the progressive lot you think y'are if you can't even fathom a friendship between a man and a woman." I grumbled, somehow offended despite how right they'd been.

"Alright man, whatever helps you sleep." Rory chuckled, slapping my back playfully, forcing a frustrated hmph from me. They both chuckled, pleased with themselves clearly.

The conversation soon dulled and I found myself mulling over the lyrics of "The Weight"by Aretha, which was the song I'd chosen to sing this evening. I wasn't particularly nervous, the real gig was over, now it was just a bunch of drunk musicians keeping each other entertained.

Clo🍯: I see you they won't let me back into the place though

My head immediately swiveled from my phone to behind me, where Clodagh was stood in the corridor behind two security guards. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her, her hair was down, which I rarely saw and her golden irises caught me in an intense recognition.

I knew Rory and Alex had also seen her, because as I stood up to go and let her in, Rory chuckled.

"Oh man... you are in way over your feckin' head."

Were the last words I heard before her hello.

"Hey guys, she's wit' us." I muttered to the security guards, leaning against the wall by the entrance. They yielded and let her in, forcing me to confront her in her entirety.

I was speechless as I looked at her, she was the kind of person you made up. She was the sort of person I had dreamt but never imagined would be behind that bookstore's Instagram. Those weeks of anonymous texting painted a picture of her sure, but nothing could have prepared me for actually seeing her.

"Jesus, I know I said I'd stop trying to kiss you but it's hard when you show up looking like that." I chuckled, my mouth spitting the words out before my brain had a chance to stop myself. She was wearing a shoulderless black dress that morphed itself to her body, presenting it like a frame, beneath she wore sheer, patterned black tights and tall brown boots. I couldn’t help but be a little infatuated.

She jingled as she walked, wearing loads of golden jewellery that glittered so much it made her look like a star or a city night.

"Didn't have time to go home and change into my sweats, sorry. I like your new hair by the way." She laughed at my awkwardness, smiling up at me. I relaxed into myself a little more, clearly she wasn’t too upset with me.

I took a moment to respond, distracted by her eyes which were framed by inky black pigment, making her even more striking- someone you stopped to look at.

Her compliment about my hair which I'd just had cut from collarbone length to just grazing my ears, sent a shower of warmth through me.

"The sweats probably wouldn't have changed anything and thank you, it feels weird being so short. Where'd you come from?" I asked her slowly, letting myself flirt just a little, just enough to wet the urge but not enough to actually satisfy me. She blew out a deep breath before biting her plump bottom lip and shrugging.

"A date." She responded plainly. The sensation was quick, an acidic, tearing, toxic envy started to rise in me like bile. I paused for a moment, unsure what I could possibly say to that.

"You told me you had plans with the group- you missed my gig for a date?" I asked her, we hadn't known each other all that long, sure- but we were close enough for her to not lie to me. Her brows raised and she took a step back.

"Why do you care?" She asked me, sucking her teeth. She was almost scary like this, staring at me (her boots made her 6'3 and so we were almost eye level,) her glare was so intimidating I worried I might start shaking.

"Because- I dunno we're friends, I wanted you to see me play." I responded, but of course that wasn't the only reason I was upset.

Who was he?

Did she like him?

Did she want him?

"And I'm here to see you play... I could've just taken the lad home but no I came to see you play." She said slowly, raising one of her brows judgementally. I knew I shouldn't push her, this tension was entirely my fault.

"Good of you." I mumbled bitterly. She tutted, her face twisting into a surprised grimace. Jesus Christ, why couldn't I get it together?

"Jesus, what is your problem Andrew? Am I supposed to just wait around until you're over ex, take a vow of celibacy?"

———
Clodagh

I looked up at him, almost eye to eye and swallowed what felt like razors. He folded his arms, wearing a jacket over a hoodie over a t-shirt. I wanted to see him play but he was being such a prick.

"I didn't say you had to-"

"Right but you found out I was on a date and now you're pissy." I said flatly, honestly. He ground his teeth, shaking his head even though there was nothing to disagree about.

"It's not that- it's just- I guess unexpected." He sighed, the words clipped and unconvincing. I scoffed and shook my head.

“Why? Why is me going on a date unexpected?” I asked pointedly, slightly insinuating I was offended by him thinking me getting a date would be unlikely. He rolled his eyes, showing me immediately how he felt about my comment.

“Obviously I don’t think someone wanting to take you out is unexpected, I just didn’t think you’d lie to me to go and see some guy. I was excited about asking you to see my gig. Is that a crime?” He responded, his eyes were unable to meet mine. The corner of the room we’d gravitated into was an unexceptional grey and offered me nothing to look at when trying to avoid his gaze.

"Look Andrew, you said you want to be only friends, great- fine. But I am young and I like to have sex, you're a ride don't get me wrong but you're not the only ride in this town." I spat back, both of us used hushed tones, we didn't want a scene but neither of us could stop without having the last word.

He enraged me sometimes.

I watched his jaw clench, his eyes were focused on mine intently and his fingers were tapping against his thigh in annoyance.

"So you're fucking him to spite me." He finally responded. Each time I thought he couldn't say something more frustrating, he proved me wrong.

"I'm not- are you serious? I've been on one date with the lad and for you to assume my sex life has anything to do with you is fucking arrogant." I insisted, each second this went on I got closer to leaving, my foot tapping impatiently against the floor. He smirked and nodded slowly.

"Right..." He trailed off, looking away from me. I breathed a sigh of relief as his drummer approached, letting us know it was their turn to play.

"Yep, grand. This has been lovely, I'm gonna go." I muttered, turning on my heels to beeline for the exit.

I hated the way my body instinctively stopped at his touch, so much so that when his hand, wrapped around my arm interrupted my stride- I stopped in my tracks, slowly turning back to face him. His face softened a moment and he bit his bottom lip seriously.

"I know. Stay. Watch. Please." He was admitting fault without actually admitting it, a frustrating habit of his. I wanted to spit in his face but instead I sighed and nodded.

"Fine. Impress me." I responded coldly, watching him grin back at me as he made his way to the stage. I wove through the small crowd, grabbing a chair and sitting, arms folded and heart racing.

I hated how much I cared about this so called friend who was entirely confusing and ever the enigma, but as he stepped onto that stage, even in the casual setting, he demanded the room's smoky attention.

His band mates took their places but before anyone started I watched Andrew whisper something to each of them. The lights dimmed slightly and I heard him clear his throat.

"Alright, this was supposed to be "The Weight" but I've changed my mind. Clo, enjoy." He winked, his large, lanky hands wrapped around the top of the mic stand like ivy on stone. My breath hitched at the sound of my name, my nickname, which he'd never personally called me.

Bastard.

I gave him an unimpressed glare but he threw back a smirk and the music began to play. I was instantly deemed dumb by the sound of his voice, like gravel and honey, an unexpected combination of rough and smooth. Fuck me, the man could sing.

"I was dreaming of the past...
And my heart was beating fast..."

I sucked my teeth, scoffing as I recognised the song.

Jealous guy, John Lennon.

He sang the lyrics like a siren, luring me with his sound to my death. The words "jealous guy" rolled off his tongue like liquor, sending chills down my spine. It didn't seem fair, for one man to hoard such talent, such charisma.

And it was surprising, the way the insecure, soft spoken man lit up on stage, singing below the stage lights like it was his job- because it was I supposed.

"I was shivering inside!
I was shivering inside..."

The irony wasn't lost on me, that he had the audacity to sing this after the argument, after him acting like my existence outside of him was some kind of personal betrayal.

I scoffed again, folding my legs and trying to look away but I couldn't, there was no looking away from him. His voice held me in a trance, it was softer and rounder and coated in syrup as he sang. It was impossible to ignore.

 

"Oh no I didn't want to hurt you,
I'm just a jealous guy,
Watch out I'm a jealous guy,
Look out baby, I'm a jealous guy."

As he finished the song, the room began to grow small around me like shrink wrap, trapping me in his gaze. The song was no longer a playful expression. It was a confession, he knew just as well as I did how jealous he was.

And he knew that damn voice was the gateway to getting whatever he wanted.

He was engulfed in a room full of applause at the end of the song, stepping off stage with a smug grin I wanted to slap off his face. Despite the praise and how it continued as he walked through the crowd, he didn't stop, didn't pause to say thanks the way he usually would, instead he bee lined for me.

I stood up, not realising how close he'd gotten until our chests almost touched. He was puffing, adrenaline glazed his skin and his eyes shone with pride.

"Do you forgive me?" He asked, the proximity between us made me ache wantingly.

Don't say yes. Don't say yes. Don't say yes.

"I'm going for a smoke, d'you want one?" I said, turning for the exit, not waiting for a response- instead knowing he'd follow like a dog.

We walked silently through the labyrinthine halls of the club. Unlike Orpheus I knew he was behind me and didn't dare look back until we made our way to the fire escape, I pushed it open to find what I was looking for, a metal staircase perfect for escaping a fire- or smoking with a man you hated.

"Jesus." I muttered as the freezing air drowned me, covering my flesh in goosebumps and forcing my teeth to chatter.

"Here." I heard him murmur before a warmth like no other wrapped itself around me. His jacket, fleece lined. Despite the relief it pumped into my veins, I spun to face him, the city lights reflecting off his face.

"Really?" I asked, referring to his boldness in giving me his jacket. He chuckled and shrugged, taking a seat beside me, his legs swinging off the edge of the platform.

"If you give me a cigarette it's an even trade and there'd be no implications to worry about." He reasoned, glancing up at me. The lights illuminated his pale skin and reflected off his large inky eyes.

"Whatever." I muttered, sitting beside him and pulling the box of cigarettes from my pocket. I took a thin white stick into my hand and gave it to him, he winked appreciatively.

My hands fumbled as I shoved one of the cigarettes between my lips. His large hands were quick to come up, shielding me from the wind as I lit the dart, taking a long, necessary draw.

"Thought you didn't smoke." He said, his voice free of judgement and full of curiosity. I shrugged.

"Only on nights out." I explained lazily, hearing him hum in response.

The quiet hum of the city below us seemed to radiate calm into my bones. We sat quietly, the burning cherry of his cigarettes was the brightest thing in my vicinity. I knew he was looking at me, I didn't need to check.

"What's his name then?" He asked, scratching his jaw lazily. The question forced a scoff from me, he simply exhaled smoke, blowing it from the side of his mouth so it didn't coat me in that tobacco smell I hated on me- but loved on him.

"Why?" I asked as smoke crept out from between my lips. The cigarette lodged between my fingers made me feel inexplicably string, strong enough to resist his questioning.

"Curious." He responded, not even bothered to give me a full sentence in response.

"Harry."

"Did you like him?" He pressed further, using that stupid deep voice and those stupid big eyes to toy with me.

"What is this, 20 questions?" I responded, tapping grey ash on the edge of the platform and looking at him sceptically.

"Depends, will you answer?" He pressed, pulling one his knees up toward his chest, the other still dangling off the edge, showing off his impressive height.

The truth was I did like him, we'd had a nice time, he kissed me at the end and it had been nice.

"He isn't like you, if that's what you're actually trying to figure out." I finally answered, leaning back into his jacket that just about swallowed me whole. I didn't care if it swallowed me into its abyss, smelling of cigarettes and cider and amber and him.

He lets out a small noise as a response, as if to say "okay, understood." But I wasn't sure if he did- understand that is... Smoke blew from between his lips as he slowly nodded, taking it in.

"What's your favourite novel?" He then asked suddenly, interrupting the silence with an irreverent question.

"What?"

"You own a bookstore, I assume you have a good answer." He drawled as the fiery end of his cigarettes drew closer to the tips of his fingers, slowly burning away.

There was a metaphor in that, I'm sure.

"At Swim Two Birds. That's why the store is called what it is." I explained, just as lazily as he had been answering my questions.

"What's your favourite song?" He responded, providing no comment on the answer I'd given him. I turned to him, squinting sceptically.

"This isn't a date."

"I'm trying to get to know my friend better." He jabbed, trying to insinuate I was the one electrifying the energy between us. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah, we're such good friends." I said with a tired sarcasm, my eyes half rolling as I took another drag of the cigarette, letting the nicotine make my head spin.

 

"Do you think we'll make good friends? Or are we just pretending we're not going to ruin each other?" He asked softly, tapping the ash of his cigarette against a bar nearby.

I raised a brow at him. I didn't know what to say, I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to say nothing. I didn't want to admit I thought the second option was the most likely.

"You're an awful lot for someone who doesn't want anything." I sighed, growing weary of his games. A few months ago I didn't even know the man, now he seemed to swim through the folds of my brain, always landing as a pit in my chest.

"That's the thing birdy, I think I do." He responded, his voice rough and deep. He looked at me like there was nothing else he'd rather lay his eyes on. The nickname birdy made my head spin more than the nicotine, he knew this, of course.

"Jesus Andrew. Thought you were still broken up over Michelle?" I accused, facing him in hopes of communicating my frustration through my face which was no doubt dumbfounded in expression.

"I don't write the music I do because my relationships are functional, Clodagh..." He trailed off slowly, tilting his head to the side. I shook my head, gritting my teeth and quashing the heat of my cigarette against the metal frame upon which we sat.

There was a metaphor in that, too.

"Right. Well pack it in because I'm not your next dysfunctional fuck.”

Notes:

please give me your thoughts, they fuel me Andy my next chapters !!

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Notes:

Hi hi!

Enjoy your fix of jealous Andy :)

 

Instagram for mood boards and chats and the like: clumsyletters_

Andrew

You don't realise how echoey a room is until everyone in it is singing your praises, until you're walking through a crowd so close their words clipped your ears- all cheer and clap and compliment. The sound is enough to make your ears ring, for the praise to linger in a high pitched residue by your ear drum.

The noise was cacophonous but easy to ignore, any noise can be ignored if something else has custody of your primary focus. The roar of actual jet engines take second place to the excitement of travel, or the fear of flying.

Tonight, while being swallowed in applause, all I could focus on was her, sitting cross legged in a collapsible chair with an unimpressed look on her face.

I'd never seen a collapsible chair look so elegant.

"Do you forgive me?" I was breathless, adrenaline had a way of making you feel like you were floating and drowning at the same time.

I wasn't entirely convinced I wanted to hear the answer to the question I'd asked, but I waited for a response anyway.

She didn't give me one, in fact she folded her long black hair over her shoulder and acted like she hadn't been asked anything. I watched her stand up, entering the space directly in front of me.

The area between us was small and ached like a bruise I couldn't stop pressing.

"I'm going for a smoke, d'you want one?" She asked, glancing up at me as though she hadn't a care in the world. She turned away, not waiting for my response, not needing one, she knew I'd follow her.

We walked wordlessly through the club, purple fluorescents flickered like bad memories. She didn't look back once, she didn't need to, she knew I was there.

Her manicure reflected the lights as she spread her hands across a large door the read "Fire Escape" and slowly pushed it open, letting the Dublin evening crawl inside.

The air, freezing and unrelenting slapped us like a punishment, or a warning, and goosebumps crawled over the bare skin above the lip of her dress, smooth shoulders and the soft curve of her neck.

"Jesus." The whisper left her mouth softly but the annunciation was prickly, as if she were shocked to be so cold.

"Here." I replied quietly. Before I knew it my jacket was sliding off my shoulders and I was slowly draping it over hers- fleece lined and still warm from me. I enjoyed a flicker of jealous possession, whoever she'd been with earlier this evening hardly mattered when it was my body warmth that she found herself wrapped in now.

"Really?" She asked, turning to face me as the door closed behind us and we were finally alone, stood on a metal stair case usually reserved for an emergency. Her question had a challenge built into it somewhere. I knew the jacket thing was presumptuous but I couldn't help myself, I couldn't watch her be cold and I couldn't resist getting to look at her in my jacket. It just about swallowed her, the bottom of the jacket falling below the hem of her dress.

Mine.

I laughed and cleared my throat a little as I crouched, slowly sitting on the edge of the platform, letting my legs hang over the side.

"If you give me a cigarette, it's an even trade. No implications to be concerned with."

She rolled her eyes, cracking a hint of a smile and sat down beside me. She pulled a box of cigarettes into her hand and gave me one like it cost her something, I suppose it did.

Her hands fumbled with her lighter and mine instinctively reached up to cup the wind away from her face, my fingers achingly close to her cheek. She lit the thing and inhaled like the smoke was medicine and not poison. I tried to stay cool as her eyes locked on mine, highlighted by the glow of the lighter. There was something in their gaze that held me and didn't let go- in fact, it hadn't let go since the first time I'd seen her.

"I thought you didn't smoke." I noted casually but curiously. She half shrugged, her eyes darting to mine, they didn't seem to reflect as much as someone else's might out here, it was as though their colour was enough, nothing else could trump it.

"Only on nights out." She smiled, like her lungs knew something I didn't and handed me the lighter. We fell into a silence though it was buzzed, impossible to fully relax in. My cigarette and its smouldering cherry was the brightest thing between us and yet I could only look at her.

Her hair splayed over her back, like ivy, crawling to cover as much of her as possible. Her eyes were set on the city below us and mine were set on her lips as they wrapped around her crackling cigarette.

"What's his name then?" I probed, even though I knew I shouldn't have. The Guinness had given me that familiar borrowed confidence but I still scratched my beard to occupy my hand.

She scoffed, probably rightly so.

"Why?" She asked, the word allowing grey smoke to curl from her lips. She looked powerful beside me, cigarette pressed between her fingers. She was untouchable.

"Curious." I answered.

"Harry." She answered back.

I nodded, taking a drag like it hadn't stung just to hear his name.

"Did you like him?" I hummed, though it was only one question I wanted to ask. I wanted to know how they met, what he did, what he looked like, how she felt about him, what they talked about, if she'd enjoyed herself as much as she did around me...

She turned her head and gave me that look, the one that reminded me she thought I was a pain in the ass. She sighed as she tapped her ash over the edge of the metal plate we sat on.

"What is this, 20 questions?"

I bit my lip, for a second unsure how to respond.

I can't fucking help myself, Clodagh.

"Depends, will you answer?" I responded, choosing to be coy. She bit her lip, rolling her eyes. Her hesitation meant something to me.

"He's not- he's not like you if that's what you're actually trying to figure out."

I made a sound, half breath, half understanding. Though I wasn't sure I did, understand that is. I hadn't been expecting her to give me such a response.

She wore my jacket like it belonged to her, maybe it did now as she somehow made its swallowing size seem chic, seem deliberate.

"What's your favourite novel?" I suddenly asked, something deep within me needed to know everything about her.

"What?"

"You own a book store. I assumed you've got a good answer." I mused, sucking down more bitter smoke to make this conversation more bearable- to stop myself from trying to kiss her and fucking things up yet again, even more.

"At Swim Two Birds, that's why the store is named that." She explained, her breath catching slightly at the words. I nodded like I cared about the book, and I suppose I did- I'd been meaning to read it, The Third Policeman was one of my favourite novels of all time. My copy of At Swim Two Birds was hers, and as I remembered that the copy she gifted me was littered with her annotations, I found myself needing to read it immediately.

"What's your favourite song?" I then asked, wanting to crawl inside her skull to empty out her every thought. She scoffed yet again, turning to me with suspicion.

"This isn't a date." She reminded me. I sucked my teeth pretending the blow didn't hurt so much.

"I'm just trying to get to know my friend better." I said with faux innocence. I liked winding her up, I like watching her grow frustrated, I wanted to be the one she took her frustration out on- I'd have any part of her I could until I was fixed enough to have her all.

"Oh yeah, because we're such good friends." She rolled her eyes, exasperated. I half chuckled, watching the way the city lights mixed into a soft yellow that lit her face like a spot light at the Louvre.

"Do you think we'll make good friends?" My voice slowly quieted. "Or are we just pretending we're not going to ruin each other?" I asked, my voice practically a whisper.

She didn't answer straight away, I didn't expect her too, the question was more of a bomb than I'd intended.

I could see the wheels turning, feel the walls tightening, the wind growing icier.

"You're an awful lot for someone who doesn't want anything." She eventually breathed, finally looking at me, her eyes locked and bold in their blonde stair.

"That's the thing, birdy," The nickname rolled of my tongue and it wasn't lost on me how she shivered when I said it. I saw the name land on her like thunder, I knew how much she liked it and I could see how much she wished she didn't.

"I think I do." I finished, far more internally nervous than was visible. The words weren't even nerve wracking to say, just the truth- that despite my incessant tries to not want her- I did.

"Jesus Andrew- thought you were still broken up over Michelle?" She asked accusingly. I wasn't even sure how she knew her name. She had snapped, turning to face me with a look that made it clear she wanted to slap some sense into me, with her words, her mouth- anything.

I was still broken up over Michelle- and it didn’t change anything.

"I don't write the music I do because my relationships are functional, Clodagh." Her name sounded velvety on my tongue and I could picture myself in a happier reality, whispering it in her ear sprinkled amongst other filthy words.

I tilted my head, watching her like a runaway melody I was yet to lyricise.

"Right. Well pack it in Andrew, because I'm not your next dysfunctional fuck." She quashed her cigarette the same way she did this conversation, standing up and leaving, taking my jacket with her.

I suppose it was my fault.

Who gets that many chances to have someone like her so close, within reach- only to fuck it up, every. single. time.

———
Clodagh

I sighed in relief as I watched James's car pull up by the curb. I'd texted him the second I left Andrew, and like the good brother he was, he came and got me.

"So... How was-"

"Don't want to talk about it." I muttered as I slipped into the front seat. I hadn't even realised I was still wearing his jacket until James drove away.

"Nice jacket." He hummed suggestively.

"Mm doesn't speak to the success of the evening." I muttered and shoved my hands into the large pockets of his jacket, that smelled just like him, this was the closest we'd been in a way.

"So, which of your men are we angry at? Andrew I assume?" He chuckled as he pulled out onto the street, letting me drift away with him. I groaned and let out a deep, lingering sigh.

"You know what- I do want to talk about it actually." I responded, slouching down into my chair and looking over at James, who had loved me my entire life.

"Hit me, Clode." He encouraged, his eyes flicking to me and then back to the road. He was never one for gossip but Violet, his fiancé was away for work and it seems like now he was more interested.

"He- so he invites me to afters right? And I go or whatever because the date was over- went pretty well by the way. Anyway, I get there and he's like woah I promised to stop trying to kiss but when you're dressed like that's hard or something- so like okay breaking that whole we're just friends things immediately right?" I began, my words quick and angry and drunk. James chuckled a little and shrugged.

"I mean yeah but we all know he's into you, that's not news." He hummed, indicating left. The action made me sit up and see that we were turning into a Burger King drive through. The neon lights of the sign sparked excitement in me. Good call, James.

"Ugh regardless- he finds out I went on a date beforehand and gets like mad? Like- he's pissed at me and we fought before his set." I said, gasping as if I was experiencing the situation for the first time again.

"I mean he's jealous that checks out-"

"Fuck off as if you're on his side." I spat back at my brother as he rolled the window down.

"Shh what do you want?" He asked me hastily, making me giggle inebriately.

"Ehm ehmmmmm cheeseburger and a chocolate shake please." I asked, pressing my hands together as if in prayer.

"Hey, can I get a medium cheeseburger meal with a chocolate shake and a large cheeseburger meal with no bun and an extra patty with ehmmm Diet Coke for the drink please?" I listened to James order, pressing my face into a grimace and shaking my head.

"No bun? Extra patty?" I asked, disgust evident in my voice. He rolled his yes.

"Fits my macros." We said at the exact same time. I admired his self discipline when it came to the gym, but I would never understand it myself.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I grumbled, sinking back down into the seat until a hot, greasy paper bag was placed in my lap. I picked at a fry, eating it slowly as he pulled out of the restaurant, heading to my place,

"Anyway we fight and then he gets up on stage and is like oh change of plans on the song- we're singing- get this James- get this- jealous guy." I retell, my voice uneven and fluid with drunkenness. James laughed and nodded along.

"Did you leave?" He asked, dubbing me silent for a moment. I didn't leave, I didn't even think about leaving when he opened his mouth.

"No... He- he can like really sing." I sighed, papering my hands over my face in annoyance. Why was someone so bad for me, so damn enticing?

"Okay so then what happened?"

———
Andrew

Social media stalking never ends well. Especially when you're home alone, drunk on sentimentality (and whiskey.)

It started innocently enough, Clodagh and I hadn't spoken in a while, things were different after that night, after Jealous Guy...

Sure, we'd texted a little, as we always had- communicating before I even knew what she looked like, but we'd gone from hanging out twice a week to practically never.

I was scrolling casually, a quick peek at the shop's page, I wanted to see if she'd posted anything about any new launches. I wanted to see if she'd posted at all.

It started off on the shop's account, and then I somehow made my way to her personal account, a private page with 78 followers, I was lucky number 71.

From there it was simple, liked posts, mutuals, tagged photos...

It was the latter where I found him.

@harrybelcr0ft91

She was tagged in a post he'd put up two days ago.

I wish the mere image hadn't felt like such a gut punch.  Her arms were slack by her side, but his were wrapped around her- the way mine should be. The way mine had been, at my party during peer pong, at my place in our fight over the table tennis ball...

They were stood beside each other in some bar, her head was tilted carelessly enough to touch his chest, her face was open and happy, like really happy...

He was worse though, hand pressed possessively to the intense curve of her waist, his head turned towards her, pressing a kiss into her thick, dark hair.

I hated how she looked- not because it was bad, no, she was beautiful, as beautiful as ever- fuck it, maybe even more.

But she was looking at him, and every fibre of my being ached to take his place. That smile she sported, the one that had captured me the second she'd offered it over a cluttered counter of books- it wasn't fake, wasn't exaggerated, it was real and she was happy- like really happy.

My chest tightened, like my ribs were trying to hold something back, that once released, wouldn't be caught again.

He didn't even look interesting, he was plain, attractive, kind eyes, seemed like a good guy- but he wasn't like me, he couldn't think of her the way I did.

He couldn't write about her, that's one thing I had that he didn't. He couldn't write the way I could, and I'd been writing since last week- two songs, unfinished and impossible to make sense of unless you'd seen the way she took a drag from a cigarette.

With cathedral-level reverence.

My hand shook almost angrily as I looked at the photo. It wasn't her fault, in fact it was entirely my fault but she'd so quickly become a looming figure in my life, in my work.

I wasn't supposed to want her like this, she'd made that clear, hell- I'd made that clear.

But the thing about muses is that you don't pick them and they never ask permission- they just crawl into you, like bacteria, multiplying until there was nothing left of me, and everything left of her.

I gritted my teeth, about to turn off my phone when I looked closer at the photo. In the background, hanging over the chair behind her, was my jacket. The one she hadn't turned, and the one she, evidently, still wore.

It was at this point I realised she may actually be trying to kill me.

I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose frustratedly before a loud ding sounded.

Rina: I'm in town and if I spend one more minute at this family dinner you so continently skipped out on, I'm going to kill myself. Beers at yours in an hour?

I looked back at my phone, and even though I always wished the notifications were Clodagh, this was one of the least disappointing alternatives.

Rina was my cousin, she was two years younger than me- born to my Uncle Jared and his wife Ami in Tokyo. We'd always been friends, often spending the better parts of our childhood holidays together. We rarely saw each other these days, she was an architect, still in Tokyo and I was a musician all over the place.

Truthfully, I'd have never skipped on dinner if I'd known she was going to be there. When my mother had asked me to dinner I told her I had a recording session booked with my producer- this was bullshit, I just didn't want to sit around at dinner when all I could think about was Clodagh.

Andy: Of course. Do you need a ride?

Rina: No- I'll see you then.

She was true to her word and in an almost an hour to the very minute, two quick knocks sounded at the door before a third accompanied it five seconds later. It was a stupid secret knock we'd invented as children when we had the half minded idea two kids in the Irish countryside could be spies.

I chuckled as I opened the door to be met face to face with cousin. She wore her hair insanely curly and had large sunglasses on despite the fact it was nearing 9pm.

"You look like you got kicked out of a slam poetry competition." I commented, watching her face twist in faux offence.

"Andrew, still delightfully unpleasant. Never change." She winked, sliding inside and plopping her hand bag on the dining room table.

"I brought beef jerky and judgement." She smiled, placing the packet of dried meat beside her bag. My brows raised.

"Always so generous." I laughed, turning to the fridge and grabbing two beers.

"Jesus why do you drink cheap beer? You're rich Andrew, spend some of that money. You've enough guitars and leather bound journals now so like- buy som good beer." Rina muttered in mild disgust as she examined the bottle of beer I gave her. Though, it mustn't have been too repulsive as she nonchalantly flipped the cap off and took a swig.

"You've been here five minutes and you're already tearin' into me." I complained, though it was jovial. She rolled her dark brown eyes and sat on my kitchen counter.

"That's what family is for or something." She snickered, we both laughed and things felt easier. She was home, we'd grown up together. I leant against the counter opposite her, my arms crossed, beer in hand. She took a sip and let her legs dangle lazily over the edge of the marble.

There was a lull in the short had conversation

folding her legs before giving me a stern look.

"Why'd you skip out on dinner, then? Too busy for tea wit' your mammy?" She accused, I furrowed my brow and shook my head. God, I wish that was my problem.

"Never."

"Ah so you're hiding away and feeling sorry for yourself?" She asked, yawning casually before she sat waiting for a response.

"Something like that." I muttered, taking too big of a mouthful of beer. She hummed knowingly and shrugged.

"What is it then? Mad at Caroline? The boys go on another trip without you? Romance trouble?" She asked mischievously.

"Don't you have a mortuary to design or something?" I hit back, apparently Clodagh and my associated grumpiness was a sensitive topic.

"Nope a high school actually and yet I'm here, with you. So who's the woman?" She asked, looking at me sceptically over the neck of her beer. I scoffed.

"How did you-"

"Because when I mentioned romance you made a face like a kicked dog." She explained quickly, her accent was a smooth mix of Irish from home, Japanese from her other home and American from her international school.

"Right."

"Is this all because Michelle's in town?" She then asked, forcing me into a stunned silence. It was not about that, I had no idea Michelle was back.

"Is she?" I asked, trying not to let my voice strain. Rina made an awkward grimace.

“Ehm yeah, Lottie told me she came by the store the other day.” She confessed, Lottie was her best friend who owned a health food store in the heart of Dublin, though how a health food shop in the middle of the processed food capital of Europe got by always evaded my mind.

“Oh.” Was all I seemed to manage in reply.

“Yeah. Ehm she asked about you apparently.” Rina continued, the space between us now thick with awkwardness. I nodded a few times.

I had loved Michelle. A lot.

“God, why? She wrecked me and- and not too long ago either.” I stuttered, wishing I hadn’t, wishing my voice had stayed sharp. It was around 3 months ago that our relationship came crumbing down.

“Yeah I know… But if she’s not your concern- who is?” Rina proved, forcing a sigh from between my lips.

“I- she’s- she’s a friend.” I explained poorly, so poorly that it warranted an audible laugh from Rina. I immediately turned to the fridge for another beer, grabbing my cousin one as well. She happily accepted despite how she’d slagged it off minutes ago.

“Elaborate.” She demanded quietly.

I groaned, taking a hand through my hair, still not used to its short length.

“Has she seduced you or something?” She asked, half joke, half filling the silence

I sighed.

 

“No, she’s not even trying- she just is. That’s the worst part, she’s done nothing wrong. She’s just this strange woman who I met by DMing a bookstore Instagram page. She’s like stupidly perfect- she owns that bookstore and has hired a fucken’ 90 year old barista and has a cat that lives there and she like saved her dog from a fighting ring or something and she’s effortlessly funny and donates spare books to local schools- I dunno- she’s just like this perfect, perfect woman and I can’t handle it.” I admitted before taking a large gulp of too carbonated beer, feeling it burn down my oesophagus.

“Why can’t you handle it? She sounds great.” Rina responded like it was easy.

“Because of Michelle and our break up and the baby- I’m dealing with all of that and suddenly Clodagh shows up and like reaches into me and steals something I didn’t even know I was hiding.

She is great Rina- she is- and it’s fucking exhausting.”

Notes:

Next chapter is a doozy so… wait for it :)))

Plz plz tell me what you thought, your comments are forever motivating and always so sweet.

 

Until next week :)

Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Notes:

Enjoy….

 

Instagram: clumsyletters_

Clodagh

"Christ, do you two do any work?" Clyde scoffed as he arrived at the store that morning, he was walking into the shop to see James and I slumped over the counter, an open book in front of each of us and a steaming coffee by our sides.

I looked up at him with a snicker and shook my head.

"Why would we when you could do it all?" I teased, dog earring my page and closing the book, despite how invested I'd been in the story.

The old man, with his wispy white hair and impeccably neat appearance, rolled his eyes at the both of us.

"I will say, our coffee's were mildly disappointing made by us. You've got the magic touch." James complimented, closing his book as well but without so much as a bookmark. Clyde gave us a stern look that very obviously said: Don't fucken' patronise me.

The store smelled delicious that morning, the brief smokiness of long gone incense hung in the air, mingling with coffee and the warm yeasty smell of the new bakery next door and the damp antiquity of old book pages.

"Have you had to make any for any paying customers?" He asked sceptically, slotting behind the coffee machine like he was programming a space ship, his hands moving busily to prepare the machine to his standards.

"No thank God, we've been open an hour and all anyone wants is to browse the new releases." I frowned, slumping my hand on my chin. I was oddly relaxed, I really did love this place. I loved my job, it was calm, the business was successful, despite my worries before opening, it well and truly paid the bills...

"Mm- I sold two language books to two random people which is a lot for a random Friday morning." James interrupted, making me tilt my head and nod a little.

"That's very true actually." I agreed, taking a mouthful of my now lukewarm coffee and listening to the sweet jingle of the gold bell we had attached to the door.

"Ooh Andy's sent spies." James chuckled below his breath, looking between Clyde and I. I instantly gave him a questioning look before I glanced at the door to see a lanky woman with sleek black hair and piercing brown, almost onyx eyes, beside a man who looked strikingly like a stocky, short haired Andrew.

Clyde grumbled something about staying out of our childish dramas and going to get more coffee beans before he slumped out the back.

"Do we think that's his brother?" I whispered, watching them slowly walk through the front display which was shelves of the "owner's" (sure James and I but also Clyde and our friends and anyone who had a recommendation,) picks.

"Yeah that's Jon, I met him at Hailey's birthday, they both studied film. I don't know who he's with though, it's not his girlfriend." James explained quietly, Hailey was a friend he knew from his previous job in marketing, her birthday was two days ago.

"I think it's their cousin Rina, their Uncle's wife- so their Aunt I guess, is Japanese I think." I answered, Andrew had mentioned his favourite cousin a few times, he hadn't told me she was in town though.

"Aww look at you racially profiling." James teased, nudging my shoulder. I scoffed at him.

"I've been called Cleopatra enough to warrant some of my own racial profiling." I grumbled, thinking of all the comparisons that had been made over the years.

"I think most of the men who call you that are complimenting you." James said, his voice verging on condescending.

"Shit compliment, she's class but she's not not even fucking Egyptian, she's-"

"Greek, I know, I know." James interrupted to agree with me. Whenever people discovered James and I were half Egyptian (which was semi often, having a warm complexion in Ireland was always something people liked to comment on,) a slew of comments on the novelty of ancient Egypt ensued.

"You're Clodagh."

My brother and I both looked in front of us as my name was spoken. The lean, dark haired woman (and Jon who stood apprehensively a few steps behind her,) was looking at me intently.

"You're Rina." I said in the same cool tone, hoping very much that I'd made the right guess. Her face cracked into a smile as Jon stepped to the side and said a quick hello to James.

"I am, it's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot, we're looking for Andy." She explained with a soft smile. I wondered what he'd told her about me, I hadn't expected her to be so forward.

"It's nice to meet you too, Andrew's not here though, sorry." I explained, wondering what she knew about me and why she thought Andrew would be here, with me. She waved her hand in a casual dismissal.

"All good, he will be soon."

———
Andrew

This was a shit idea, maybe the worst I’d had but my feet wouldn't stop their steps, slowly creeping toward that damn bookstore.

I'd been reading her copy of Two Birds at Swim and she was right, it was brilliant, though her annotations were my favourite parts. I read each and every one of her comments, scrawled in the margins of yellowed pages and I delighted at every circled and underlined phrase. I always took time wondering why she'd marked what she had, why the lines spoke to her in particular.

Rina and I had spent most of our time together setting the world to rights and also setting my life to rights. She had somehow convinced me that if there was to be any kind of future, platonic or otherwise, with Clodagh, I had to start communicating better.

That's what led me to her store, as I walked toward the entrance I absentmindedly glanced in the shop window. My eyes immediately found her, leaning against the counter while she spoke to... Fuck, Rina.

I sped up but by the time I reached the door, Rina and Jon were exiting. Jesus, had they just gone in there to ambush her?

"Ah there's the lad, we thought you were coming earlier, wanted to see how it went- and I wanted to meet this mystery woman. She's fit, you're probably punching." Rina chuckled as she saw me, Jon was beside her, a mildly apologetic expression washed over his face. He'd heard me speak about this woman who I was apparently quite obviously enamoured with, I knew he was curious to officially meet her.

"Christ... What did you say to her?" I groaned, rubbing my cheek worriedly. Rina gave me a bouncy shrug.

"Just that it was nice to meet her. She seems lovely, her bother's fit too- are they twins?" She asked curiously, craning her head to look back into the store.

"Yeah, they are." I answered awkwardly. Rina scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"We didn't say anything embarrassing, Andy. Promise, she's expecting you now though so go in- show her your pain." She smiled, making the last four words theatrically dramatic. Jon snickered at her words. I glared at them both, now a million times more nervous than I had been before.

"Piss off the both of you." I tutted, turning into the store with the knowledge that if I didn't go straight in, I wouldn't go in at all.

Clodagh and James were whispering to each other softly when I entered, I tried my best to decode their expressions but as most twins did, they seemed to communicate in a way that was only decodable to them.

The bell jingled softly as I opened the door, a loud signifier that I had arrived. The twins both looked up at me in sync, their yellow gaze was intimidating but I softened a little when James left and Clodagh's face warmed with a smile.

"Your entourage just left." She quipped, her voice smooth but razor sharp. I bit my lip as I nodded.

"I'm sorry if they like said anything strange to you...." I apologised immediately, damage control seemed to be the best option. She giggled, because for some reason she liked to be as carelessly irresistible as possible all the time.

"No, no, just that you were coming in and I could never be upset about a visit from you." She smiled, her white teeth juxtaposing the peachy brown of her lips. Her voice was casual but the words weren’t, the words gave me enough to keep going.

“Do you have time for a coffee?” I asked her, to which she looked behind her, searching for her brother who was further back in the store- he gave her a thumbs up despite the fact she hadn’t said a word.

“I do.”

Clyde whipped us up two coffees in minutes, hers was a creamy cappuccino, I took mine black. We made our way to a nook by the window, its bench was covered in a soft, thick, deep red blanket and the grey Dublin street sat exposed through the glass beside us.

I chose the spot because it was private, and also a little because it forced proximity, the bench was big enough for the both of us, but only just.

She was deliberate in her movements, kicking off her boots and sitting, facing me, cross legged. I on the other hand sat facing the shop and the coffee table that our drinks sat on, steaming before us like a river in the morning.

“So, how’ve you been?” Clodagh broke the momentary silence, casually pulling her hair (which was in a long, thick braid, a style I hadn’t seen her wear before.) over her shoulder. For a moment I wondered what it feel like to undo the plait, pulling the thick locks of hair apart with my fingers…

“Ehm yeah alright… I came for a reason…” I couldn’t have sounded more awkward, more uncertain, if I’d tried. Clodagh nodded supportively, her honey eyes morphed into an empathetic shape, making me believe she cared about each word I said.

“Okay, let’s hear it then.” She smiled, squeezing my knee gently. The touch was soft and quick and she had no ulterior motive, but I felt myself shiver anyway.

I was fascinated by her multitudes, she was so often so kind and so sweet but when I deserved it she knew just how to tear into me…

Interrupting the start of my next sentence and my train of thought was a fat, affectionate ginger cat who leapt into my lap much the same way she had the first time I’d been in here.

“See, she loves you, dunno why.” Clodagh chuckled, reaching out to pet the feline, who purred and nudged her hand lovingly.

“I know, she’s slowly changing my opinion on her entire species.” I chuckled, feeling more comfortable with the cat warming my lap,

“Ehm, Clodagh, I came in today because- I uh, things are different between us since after that night and I know I keep leading you on. And I know it’s unfair, I just want you to know it’s got nothing to do with you. I think you’re fantastic and you don’t deserve me playing around.”

“We’re friends and friends open to up to each other I guess and so I’d like to tell you about what happened with my last… relationship. If you want to hear it- obviously.” I stuttered, I didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened with Michelle, she’d moved after we split and I had hoped I’d never have to think about them again- but my baggage was getting in the way.

I watched Clodagh nod slowly, her hands with nails painted the same striking amber of her eyes were playing with the end of her braid as she processed.

“I would. Very much so actually.” She told me, which was honestly, a surprise- one that excited me and filled me with dread, but I came here for a reason, and so I told her.

—
5 months ago

M🤍: I'm just taking ma home from physio, I’ll be back within the hour text me when you're home

I'd only checked my phone once I'd come back to her flat from the airport- only for it to be empty.

I was glad to be staying with her tonight, after the flight I'd just had I was absolutely decrepit. We'd been together almost 4 years but her work kept her tethered to Dublin and I loved my place in Greystones too much to leave- besides, I think we did better in our own places. We both cherished having some space of our own.

Still, as I arrived at her place that smelled like her caramel candles and cinnamon, I was very much looking forward to her returning home. Tour was basically over and I was finally coming home to a warm bed. I had a 4 day stretch at home and then one more leg of a few festivals in the US but that would only take four weeks.

A🤍: I'm home now love, will be in the shower if you get home and want to join me...

I sent her a quick response and placed my suitcase in the spare room. I always slept in her room but the things I kept at her house were in here. My body ached with exhaustion, jet lag and the melancholic let down of finishing a world tour. Festivals were fun, but there was something to be said about thousands of people paying to see just you.

I looked forward to seeing my girl, to making love to her and then melting into her sheets with her warm body pressed to mine all night.

I was humming quietly, some new melody that I'd been playing with in a hotel room a few nights ago, as I opened the wardrobe to grab a t-shirt and some sweats.

My chest was heavy as I trudged to the bathroom, undressing and stepping into the hot cocoon of her shower. It was small and I had to angle the shower head as high as it would go to actually fit below it, but as the hot water poured over my bare skin, I didn't have a worry in the world.

Once my body was red and my consciousness was slowly being stolen by the hot steam and my constant dehydration, I stepped out.

I was almost too tired to dry and dress myself again but I managed and was soon in my sweats, staring at myself in the mirror.

I looked exhausted, I was exhausted. Flying always left me feeling like I'd been in left in a tumble dryer while hungover. My mouth tasted murky and gross, forcing me to grab my toothbrush from the cup by the sink. My red one sat beside her blue one and I smiled a little before using her toothpaste and brushing my teeth.

In an uncharacteristic bout of motivation, I decided to floss, almost falling asleep as I worked the dental pick back and forth between my teeth. I was sure I could've fallen asleep standing up had my eyes not been caught when I threw the pick in the bathroom bin.

Beside my newly discarded dental pick, was a plastic stick, half wrapped in toilet paper. My heart skipped a beat, palpating awkwardly in my chest. I ripped a square of toilet paper off the roll nearby and grabbed the stick with it.

I'd never seen a pregnancy test in real life until then, as I looked straight at this one that practically vibrated with two dark pink lines.

Fuck...

I stumbled back, sitting on the closed toilet lid as I looked at the test, a whole life symbolised in a little plastic stick.

I was in shock, my brain freezing as I tried to process what I was seeing.

She was pregnant.

My mouth dried as I stared at the test. A baby, we were having a baby...

I was surprised, shaking with anxiety and shock actually but as I slowly regained my cognitive function, it made sense. I'd last seen her 8 weeks ago when she'd visited on tour for two days, all we'd done was fuck and watch movies. I had remembered the weekend rather fondly over the last two months. She'd also mentioned some nausea over the phone recently and seemed a little more sensitive than usual...

She was on the pill but she wasn't the best at taking it at the same time everyday.

I already knew she was keeping it, she was always thrilled by the idea of children, she'd made it very clear that she wanted to be a mother.

Once the shock started to dissolve, the excitement slowly took over. We'd talked about children in the past, planned them for 2024 which would, if everything went to plan, be just after the tour for my third album which was slowly coming together.

But another album could wait, I'd just finished a tour, it wasn't bad timing.

I was a musician, a son, brother, partner and now- a father.

My mind was suddenly alight and the weight of my jet lag lifted, I was really, truly excited.

I pictured us, maybe living out at my place, with a toddler that had her honey blonde hair and my speckled green eyes and laughed out loud. That was a future I would be thrilled with, that was a future approaching much quicker than I'd anticipated.

When I heard her key in the door, my head snapped towards the sound, I quickly threw the test back into the bin, washed my hands and raced to the living room.

I was grinning as she opened door. She looked so pretty, her hair was up in some kind of messy thing and grocery bags hung off her arms. She glanced at me and smiled softly.

"Sorry babe, I thought you'd be back later so I got some stuff on the way home." She sighed as I practically teleported to her side, taking the heavy bags from her as quickly as I could.

"Wow, forever the gentleman. I should be looking after you. You must be exhausted." She frowned, watching as I placed the bags on the kitchen bench, (which in her tiny inner city apartment was directly across from her small but homely living room, the path from the front door to hallway where the two bedrooms and her bathroom were, intersected the two spaces.)

"I think it's probably the other way around, Michelle." I smiled, biting my lip to try and hide the ridiculously wide grin threatening to spill across my cheeks. I imagined telling my mother for a moment, she'd probably drop dead from excitement.

I wanted to give Michelle a chance to tell me herself, maybe she had something planned, it was the best welcome home present I could ask for.

"Mm I do deserve a life of leisure, you're right." She chuckled from behind me, I turned to look at her, a please smile staining my face. It was probably just my own placebo but she was as glowing, her skin was radiant and in her tight yellow jumper I swear I could see the way she'd filled out, her breasts and hips already seemed fuller.

"Especially now." I agreed, trying with every cell in my body not to spoil my own surprise. She tilted her head to the side, watching me suspiciously.

"Especially now?" She asked, a half smile staining her face. I sighed, my attempt to let her tell me were immediately quashed by my own excitement.

"I was showering and then I flossed and suddenly I found your positive pregnancy test in the bathroom bin." I blurted as the grin that I'd been trying to suppress finally won and I found myself beaming down at my girlfriend, my partner...

The mother of my child.

Her face fell as soon as she heard my sentence and I suddenly realised that perhaps I'd jumped the gun. Maybe the test was a friend's, maybe she'd had an early miscarriage, maybe it was a false positive.

"What, Christ I'm sorry, are ye not? It's okay if you are! I'm- I'm thrilled actually- but obviously if- if you're not that also fine like-"

"No, no, it's alright. I'm pregnant, I think. I mean I only found out today. I wanted to surprise you." She interrupted, saving me from my own incessant babbling. Her eyes shone and I could see her chewing the inside of her cheek.

I laughed quietly.

"You definitely did surprise me." I chuckled, opening my arms widely. She blushed a little and stepped forward, allowing me to envelop her in my arms. She was warm and smelled like her, allowing caramel and vanilla.

"I- I haven't booked an appointment yet or anything, I like- I'm a bit thrown you know?"

"That makes sense. It's okay, it's still early right? Like 8 weeks?" I mumbled, half to her, half to myself. She let out a hum and held me closer.

"Yep. Somewhere around there."

—

Doing a festival run while my girlfriend was at home, pregnant, proved to be agonising even if it was less than a month long. Michelle and the pregnancy very quickly became all I could think about. She called each night and I demanded she tell me every new detail about how the baby was doing even when there weren't any new details to share.

We’d told my parents and my brother the day before I left. It was early but we were both so excited and Michelle seemed thrilled to tell my folks. They had been dumb with shock at first before my parents broke with excitement, Mum was especially thrilled. In fact I’d never seen her so over joyed, not when my career took off, not when I was nominated for a Grammy, never.

Michelle and I had both been shocked when Ma quickly left the table, returning a minute or so later with a shallow square box.

My grandmother had given mum a pearl bracelet in her will, it was to be eventually passed on to her daughter. Considering she never had a girl, the mother of her grandchild made the most sense.

I'd counted down the days until I got home from this leg, always keeping track of how many days I had left until I'd be back with her and the baby. I sent her care packages, full of things I knew she’d like and things that were good for the baby and we’d shared many giggly phone calls about potential names and gender predictions, she was sure it was a boy, I was sure it was a girl.

Either way, it didn’t matter, I had fallen in love with the idea of fatherhood.

On the 7th, I arrived home, coincidentally while Michelle was at an ultrasound which I'd been gutted to miss even though she assured me there'd be many more for me to attend.

When I got back to her flat, I threw my things in the spare room and sat in her living room, my heart buzzing excitedly for her to arrive home. I probably could’ve done something more productive with my time, but I was so beside myself with excitement that all I could do was sit and wait.

She’d be 13 weeks pregnant, my mind buzzed with questions, would there be a bump yet? Had she felt any flutters? Were her symptoms lessening?

My spiralling mind was pulled from its daydreaming when I heard her key in the front door. I instantly stood up, for some reason needing to be the first thing she saw when she got in.

She jumped when she saw me, papering a hand over her chest before smiling widely.

“Jesus baby, y’can’t scare me like that.” She chuckled, slowly sliding inside, kicking the door closed behind her and letting me wrap my lanky arms around her tightly. She was so warm and she smelled so nice, I’d missed having her so close.

"Sorry. How are you feeling? How was the appointment? Did you get a picture? Did you get the folic acid I had delivered?" I asked her, my questions like bullets, quick and serious. She laughed, her body vibrating against mine before she let go and we made our way to the couch.

"Okay straight into it, I'm feeling good, not as nauseas anymore, the appointment went well and the baby is healthy, I did get both a picture and the folic acid, thank you.” She replied earnestly, tucking my hair behind my ear and smiling at me sweetly. I could see a whole future in her eyes, this baby, maybe more, a wedding…

Usually that would terrify me, but it didn’t, it lit me up.

“Can I see it? Do you have a copy?” I asked, biting my lip with anticipation. She hummed through a smile and nodded, adjusting her self so she could reach her jeans pocket.

My heart was beating so hard I could hear blood rushing behind my ear drums as I waited to see a picture that would absolutely just be a grainy black and white blob- but it would be our grainy black and white blob.

The rushing of my pulse was like a waterfall after torrential rain, heavy and intense and roaring, the sound was almost deafening but as the small glossy print out was place in my hands, everything went quiet.

“I think he’s cute- I know he’s just a bean but I think he’s adorable.” Michelle’s voice sounded like it was underwater as I examined the page, my hands shaking as I read the top left corner.

"This says 9 weeks gestation..." I commented quietly, my brain doing gymnastics to try and make sense of what I was seeing.

She stayed suspiciously quiet but nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

“Michelle, we were in different countries 9 weeks ago." I choked, desperately trying to think of an answer that didn’t boil down to her infidelity. I couldn’t be reading this right, this wasn’t right, this couldn’t be happening.

I could see her throat move as she swallowed, her face papered with worry and with something else, something more upsetting: guilt.

"Well- we saw each other before my last visit- what? 12 weeks ago? maybe- it takes a while to get pregnant you know? My cycle is kind of irregular and we both know I'm not best at taking my pill everyday- maybe it just took a while to stick.” Words spewed from her mouth quickly but I knew she was lying, the baby wasn’t mine.

The baby wasn’t mine.

The baby I’d already fallen in love with, already planned a future for, wasn’t mine.

"Oh my God..." I whispered, my throat tightening as if at the mercy of a boa constrictor. This was one of those moments where you could feel your whole world cracking, just about to shatter.

"Sperm can live inside the body for longer than you think Andrew-" Michelle began. I twitched with a slowly building anger, like a snowball rolling down a mountain until it became a gargantuan mass of ice. I couldn’t stand to listen to her try and condescend me.

"Yeah days Michelle! Not fucking weeks- you, you fucking cheated? After everything, you cheated?" I confronted, throwing the ultrasound into her lap. I didn’t have the strength to get up yet. I didn’t have the strength to accept that I wasn’t a father, I wasn’t even a partner.

After a blissful 5 weeks of parenthood, of planning and excitement and preparation- I was alone.

"That must be it. I didn't sleep with anyone else. I can't believe you think- I can't believe you think the baby isn't yours, that I'd do that to you." Michelle spoke, her voice wavering with outrage. My face scrunched as the anger began to mix with devastation, it hurt how good of a liar she was, and how after everything she’d still lie to my face.

"Cut the shit Michelle, I'm a man not an idiot, I have a basic understanding of female anatomy- Jesus were you just going to let me raise another man's baby?" I asked her, staring right at her, unable to feel a drop of sympathy as her eyes started to well with tears.

Not only had she cheated, not only had she gotten pregnant, she was going to let me raise the child as my own.

She bit her lip, shaking her head, for a moment her mouth opened without words.

"I- fuck Andrew, you were just- you were so excited and you are so much better prepared to have a baby than Jace-" The sound of his name was like a slap to the face, jarring and almost unbelievable.

"Jace? Tell me you didn't just say Jace." I gasped, standing up from the couch as my heart palpated and my chest tightened so much it was painful. Jace was her high school boyfriend, he was rarely employed and had broken her heart numerous times but they were still friends and while I’d always been wary of his intentions with her, I never thought she’d actually sleep with him.

"Once, it was one time, I swear. I just get- I was lonely, you were gone for so long." She pleaded from behind me, I scoffed through growing tears, shaking my head.

"I was lonely Michelle, I missed you but I didn't cheat, not once. I didn't sleep with anyone else- and God knows I fucking could have, God knows I have the opportunity but I stayed loyal... I stayed loyal Michelle." I spat back, my voice breaking as I was forced to confront the betrayal and the grief that came along with saying goodbye to a child I thought would be mine.

"Stay- Andy, stay." She begged, I couldn’t turn around, couldn’t face her but I did it anyway. Tears rolled down her cheeks from her reddened eyes, she was sniffling and shaking and usually I’d break to see her like that, now I felt nothing.

"So you were going to use me? You were going to use my maturity, my money- to parent a child that isn't mine?" I asked, grinding my teeth to try and keep the floodgates closed. She breathed softly and shrugged, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“If you didn’t know, it wouldn’t matter, you would believe the baby was yours and that would be enough, we would have been a happy family. We still could! You can father this baby in all the ways that matter Andrew, we can do couples therapy, you can drag me over hot coals- you have to forgive me.

“I can’t Michelle, I can’t- I can’t even look at you. Give me my mother’s bracelet back so I can go.” I demanded softly, turning my head away from her, I was disgusted that she could accept such a gift from my mum, knowing she didn’t deserve it.

“Andrew, Andrew please, we can work this out.”

“No- we really- we really can’t.”

-

As I sat in a taxi, cradled by its leather seats, watching Michelle's apartment building, our relationship, our baby, dissolve behind me in a grey cloud, my phone buzzed:

@twobirdsswimming: officially back on Irish soil yet mr world wide?

Despite it all, the instant and crushing degradation of my relationship, the grief that crawled under my skin and the tears forcing themselves into my eyes, as I saw the message, I couldn't help but smile.

@hozier: I am, you can expect a visit as soon as this jet lag doesn't feel like a hammer to the skull.

@hozier: Oh and Mr World Wide is a title exclusive to pitbull, I really can't steal it.

@twobirdsswimming: of course and deepest apologies to pitbull aka mr world wide, aka mr 3 6 5

@twobirdsswimming: dalé 😔

I snickered through tears at the messages as I watched them light up my screen. The sound was distorted and sounded almost like choking but it was a snicker nonetheless.

Despite it all- she, whoever she was, with nothing but a text, made me laugh on the day my world burned down.

———

Present day

I felt like a kicked puppy as Clodagh looked at me, her eyes wide and sad, her face soft with shock. I guess it hadn’t been the story she was expecting.

“Christ, Andy- I’m, I’m so sorry.” She then said finally, I’d told the story in one long go, she hadn’t said a word, just listened intently, her face unreadable as I spoke.

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want you to know why I’ve fucked this up so royally, so many times. I can’t- I can’t be with you because I want to get it right, God if I had the chance with you I’d be sure to get it right.” I said honestly, smiling sadly at her. She sighed softly and bit her lip.

“I- so what? Does this mean you have feelings for me?” She asked, her brows knitted and her eyes cocked with confusion

“Yes. I have feelings for you that scare me, I think you’re just like, ridiculously wonderful.” I confessed, the words forcing themselves over the lump in my throat. She sucked her teeth and shrugged, clenching her jaw.

“You know there was like a shit load of time you had to tell me this before I got a boyfriend right? You know you could’ve made this situation so much easier on the both of us?” She asked me directly, making me shrink with guilt and with the pain that came with her reddening to Harry as her boyfriend.

“Yeah- I know.”

Notes:

Well, that shed some light on things…

Plz plz plz leave me a comment and let me know what your thoughts are.

Next chapter is a good one, a little treat you could say ;)

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Notes:

buckle in, this is long and filthy.

Clodagh

I wasn't sure what to do in a situation like the one that presented itself to me now. He sat there, so close, spilling, raw but calculated words between us. I wasn't sure why he'd come and when he told me he was going to explain what happened with Michelle, I wasn't sure why- but I wanted to know. I hadn't done anything wrong, but when he finished speaking and I ached to respond with something of comfort, I felt an odd stickiness of infidelity, as if I were betraying Harry.

Should I even be having this conversation? Should I just cut ties with Andrew?

I'd wondered, naturally, what had transpired between during his past relationship, cheating I could've guessed, but her trying to get him to father a child that wasn't his- that was messier and sadder than anything I'd imagined.

When he was finished, he looked at me, through me and waited for me to run. I couldn't move a muscle.

"Christ, Andy I'm- I'm so sorry." I finally mustered up some words that didn't seem inappropriate, this was one of those moments where there truly was no right thing to say.

He smiled at my response but it wore thin at the edges and didn't meet his eyes. He scratched the back of his neck below the sheet of curly curly hair that hung there.

"I don't want you to be sorry, I just want you to know why I've fucked this up so royally, so many times. I can't- I can't be with you because I want to get it right, God if I had the chance with you, I'd be sure to get it right."

That did it, spiked that sick anger in me. It felt wrong to be angry after he all but bared his soul to me but how could he be so stupid? The chance had been there, he'd stood a pretty good chance actually and it sat between us for months.

In the weeks after his gig and the balcony and his jacket (that still hung in my closet) and his confession that he maybe did want something- him and I drifted and Harry and I had only closer closer. He made me laugh, took me out, walked my dog, listened to my rants, got along with my brother and now I was supposed to deal with Andrew and his complicated emotions. It wasn't his fault, I understood why in such a colossally fucked up situation he would be so hot and cold, but it wasn't my fault either.

I looked at him and sighed. He look so tired and so sincere and so fucking late.

My heart was fluttering as my body slowly let itself feel what it had been fighting off for months. My stomach  was gradually growing warm as my mind grew cold and sharp.

"I- so what, does this mean you have feelings for me?" It felt rude to ask him directly, but at the same time, I needed to know. I wanted to be sure of where he stood.

My mind replayed all my favourite moments I'd had with him, all the time we'd spent together, I wanted more but it only seemed like I'd get less.

His answer landed like a slow avalanche.

"Yes, I have feelings for you that scare me. I think you're just like- ridiculously wonderful."

I frowned, it would have been easier if he was his usual jovial self, if we could keep hiding these feelings behind thinly veiled jokes. But- the words looked painful to say, or as if they'd be more painful not to say.

"You know there was a shitload of time you had to tell me this before I got a boyfriend, right?" I asked, not harshly but firmly. The word boyfriend slipping between my lips made him look like he'd been shot.

"You know you could've made this situation so much easier for us?" I asked, swallowing a lump in my throat. I felt guilty asking, I felt guilty blaming him because once again, I understood why he was so fucked up but why did it have to come down on me?

He winced slightly, sucking his teeth and nodding slowly.

"Yeah- I know." He said guiltily before we were swallowed by awkward silence.

"So- so you're with him? Officially?" He asked after a while. I breathed out deeply, the breath shaky and soft.

"Ehm yeah, pretty much- I mean to the point that this conversation is making me feel guilty." I confessed, even though I didn't want to stop talking to him, I never really stopped wanting to be around him.

His brows jumped slightly but he nodded understandingly.

"Right. Well we should probably keep our distance for a while." He said, coldly and as though he hated each word that slipped from his mouth.

"Oh. If that's what you want." I replied, gnashing my teeth a little. He stood up slowly and shrugged. His eyes met mine and held them.

"It's not. But it seems to be for the best. You're right. This wasn't fair on you, I'm sorry." He said, and then he was gone.

Motherfucker.

———

2 months,
8 weeks,
61 days,

At this stage, that's how long the silence between Andrew and I had lasted. After he told me about Michelle he disappeared off the face of the planet, he didn't text me, didn't come into the shop, I only knew he was still alive from the occasional story like he dropped.

Two of them to be precise, one on a photo celebrating our 6 month anniversary of opening, another on my personal account, a picture of me, smiling, the sun in my eyes- I wondered if he'd have still liked it if he knew Harry had taken the picture.

I thought about him too much, more than I should have. On the nights I was alone and the only thing to hold me accountable were the soft walls of my flat- I thought about him, I tried to will him into sending me a message, a message I shouldn't want, from a man I shouldn't want.

Harry filled the empty spaces, he was kind and easy and sweet. He had strong arms and a nice face, a good job, a healthy relationship with the world- and he was devoted to me. James liked him, Honey liked him, even Clyde liked him and I, I liked him but I knew deep down that wasn't enough.

How could it be enough to like him, to enjoy his company, to be with him- when I was still waiting to hear from Andrew. Just a text- anything to confirm that he'd been thinking about me.

I was thinking about him now, as I folded my laundry and watched Honey sleep in her soft bed in the corner of the room. She slept like she'd been worked to the bone all day- she had not.

I hummed along to the soft Etta James that trickled from my speakers, until her voice was interrupted by a loud buzz.

An Instagram notification, probably a story like, a dm about the business, a follow request, it could be a hundred things and yet I still leapt to grab my phone and check if it was him.

Finally, this time, it had been.

Andy🎸: I have been drafting this text for too long. Not sure what to say other than I leave for LA tomorrow to meet with producers, I'll be gone half the year, and all I can think about is seeing you before I go.

I dropped my phone onto my bed and ground my teeth. This was the message I'd been begging for, and yet now I had it, I was terrified.

Clo🍯: Is there a question in there

Andy🎸: come over. as soon as you can.

My heart beat made itself audible and my hands shook as I prepared to respond.

Clo🍯: okay.

———

The drive was quiet, eerily so. After I'd responded to his text, I showered, took too much care in getting ready and dressed before I got straight in the car. I didn't ask him why he wanted to meet now or what he'd been doing in the months we hadn't spoken.

I didn't even play music as I drove the familiar route to his house, instead I took my time on each old dirt turn, each misty back way. When I arrived at his property, the security gate was open, he really was anticipating me.

His house glowed on the hill, a large shadowed structure, dwarfed and made sweet by the orange light that filtered through his windows. The inside of his home was made fuzzy by the sheer curtains that hung across most of the glass at the front of the house.

I was nervous, and as I parked in my usual spot, I flicked the ignition off and sat with my keys in my lap for a moment, staring out the windscreen blankly, trying to muster up the courage to knock on the door.

It didn't end up taking much, after all I was here, wasn't I? I wanted to see him- despite how I shouldn't, despite a deep seated awkwardness between us I feared, I wanted to see him.

A singular tap on the wood of the door and the it swung open.

He was always taller than I'd remembered and his face softened from something stony to something sweeter when he looked at me.

His hair was tied back, but a few curls haloed his face, his jaw was sharper than I recalled. He wore some charcoal sweats and a big black jumper that really seemed to nurture the whole tortured artist thing he had going on.

He didn't say anything, just looked at me, right at me. I could feel the small space between us, it was somehow impossible to ignore. He tilted his head, looking at me like I was a manifestation of a dream he'd had. As if somehow those glossy green eyes needed to make sense of me.

And that look- that stupid, earnest look, is what melted the sharp, cold apprehension I'd been holding onto for too long.

He shuffled back, creating a space for me to walk in, he made that space small, so small that I almost had to touch him just to get inside.

His home smelled the way it always did, of him, fresh linen, tobacco and something sharp like pine.

I was awkward, hovering inside his place just past the threshold of his door in the small nook that separated the hallway from his living room.

"Hey." I said finally, unsure what else could be said but knowing something had to be.

His lips quirked ever so slightly, not quite a smile but far from a frown.

"Hey birdy, come in. I've poured you a drink." His voice was hoarse and quiet, like it was floating down a river. A singular shiver ran like railway lines down my back, splintering and consistent.

Birdy. The word made me shake, what did it mean to him? Why did he feel entitled enough to give me a nickname? Why did I like it so much.

"Already?" I asked in response, glancing inside his honey lit home to see a bottle of my favourite wine on the kitchen counter, two glasses sat beside it, one had clearly been drunk out of recently, the other was appropriately full.

Usually we'd be drinking whiskey, I chose not to look too hard into the choice.

"Mm, I started early I'm afraid." He confessed as we both gravitated to the breakfast bar where the alcohol sat temptingly. This was a routine we knew well, grab the drinks, maybe some weed and go to the deck, our favourite spot.

This time he paused, his brows knitting as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

"I ehm, made a tiramisu if you want some." He said, his voice almost a bemused chuckle. And to his credit, it was funny, amongst all of this tension, all of the baggage between us, was a fucking tiramisu.

"You made a whole tiramisu the night before you're leaving for half a year?" I asked him, knowing he'd probably stressed baked it and hoping this thick awkwardness between us would soon ease.

"Mm well I know you can't handle wine on empty stomach, Clodagh." He responded softly, shrugging, his long body slinking toward the end of the bench where I could now see the glass tray of the dessert, which to his credit, looked delectable.

I supposed he was right, we had spent enough time together to know a lot about each other.

I knew how much whiskey he could drink before he went down, I knew the second his social battery died at parties, I knew his star sign and the name of his childhood best friend, and he knew just as much about me.

We weren't strangers, but it felt like it.

"Piss off- and grab two forks. I'll meet you out there. We have a lot to catch up on." I replied, taking his glass, mine and the bottle of red in one hand, the stem of each glass pressed between my fingers.

The truth is I couldn't get out of there quick enough and I embraced the cold air of the deck like a firm hug. Sometimes being Andrew felt like I was choking, choking on tension, on the unsaid words between us, in an enclosed space he often felt like too much. It was too hard to refrain.

I sat in our usual spot, my legs hanging over the edge, moist grass licked at my ankles as I turned to pour myself a glass of wine.

I took a sip and at the sound of his footsteps, I took a gulp. I'd been to his house numerous times before, but this was different. We both knew this was different; he'd said the unspoken, dropped a combined bomb of his past experiences and current feelings- and then we didn't talk for two months...

"It's good you know." He said huskily as his lithe form sat beside me. I looked at him, our eyes catching for a moment.

"Hmm?" I responded, not interested in indulging his cryptic nature.

"Your wine." He explained lazily, his breath making a soft white cloud by his mouth.

"You bought it because it's my favourite?" I asked, remembering how earlier I'd decided not to question the choice. He chuckled lightly.

"I'm still trying to figure you out."

The words made me blink slowly and take a sip of the wine, looking down at the tiramisu between us as if it could save me.

He took a forkful, breaking its creamy surface gently. I expected him to lift it to his mouth, but instead, he lifted it to mine.

My eyes widened slightly but his were certain, glancing between the fork and my lips in suggestion.

For some reason, I let my mouth fall open and took the bite, rolling my eyes and pulling away as I did. He bit his lip as he watched me suck the desert off the cake fork and I teased him a little, making my movements a fraction more suggestive than they needed to be.

"Jesus, I forget you can actually cook." I moaned quietly, covering my mouth with my hand as I enjoyed the rich, cafe treat.

He laughed quietly, leaning his fork on the edge of the tray and shrugging, taking a sip from his glass.

"I'm not a one trick pony." He teased in that soft Irish sway. A chuckle bubbled in my throat and I sighed quietly.

"No, you are not."

"How have you been?" He asked me suddenly, his head turning to look at me. My eyes were distracted by the way his jaw cut sharply across the background of the evening, how his pale skin and soft auburn facial hair caught my gaze.

"I've been good, not many complaints." I said honestly but without divulging much detail. I wasn't sure how to say -I've been grand, my business is booming, my friends are still great craic, Oh and I have a boyfriend who is healthily obsessed with me and yet all I can think about is you!- and so a general statement felt safer.

"Not many?" Andrew probed, his eyes lingering on my face as if it was a struggle to look at anything else.

"Just someone I was starting to miss, someone I don't understand, someone I think I'm only destined to keep missing." I half explained, watching his dark, misty backyard as I heard his breath catch.

"I should've gotten in touch sooner."

"Probably."

"I thought some time apart might be good for us, give you the chance to fall in love with Harry, give me a chance to stop thinking about you."

"Any luck?"

He laughed like there was a joke in there I didn't understand.

"No, not at all, you?" He responded. He seemed more careless tonight, or conversely, more deliberate.

"It's only really been two months." I breathed, trying to say something that wouldn't make the guilt in me twist the blade.

"Two months felt like an awfully long time for me."  I almost laughed at this response, he always knew exactly what to say, exactly how to make me crack.

"Yeah- I guess. What have you been up to?"

———

After a lubricating amount of wine and Italian dessert, Andrew's backyard became our confidant, swallowing quiet but constant musings we shared about the last 8 weeks.

I told him about the business, about my latest reads, about Clyde's upcoming birthday. He told me about his hermit like tendencies and a new album he was slowly crafting, the one he was leaving to produce.

I'd asked to hear some of it, he'd laughed again.

After what felt like minutes but was definitely hours, the conversation lulled and it seemed appropriate to call it a night.

I told him he needed to rest, he was flying out of the country in less than 24 hours. He seemed unconvinced by this argument but still accepted it was time to sleep.

We crept like ghosts back into the house, our bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as we made our way to our respective bedrooms.

As we reached the corner of the hallway where the doors to our rooms were, we both paused. He stood, looming in his doorway, looking down at me like he was trying to solve a complicated equation in his head.

His eyes flickered over my face in contemplation. I felt like I should say something.

"I really did miss you, don't go awol on me again." I said quietly, like a confession. He bit his lip and shook his head. I nodded and slowly stretched, pushing my chest out and my arms behind me as a soft yawn left my mouth. I suppose it was getting late.

His jaw clenched.

"I won't." He said but it sounded more like a promise to himself than to me. I nodded and ran my fingers through my hair, shaking out a few knots carelessly. When I pulled my fingers through the end of my hair I noticed a small glob of tiramisu on my thumb, I brought it to my mouth and sucked the sweet muck from my skin.

My eyes flickered to him as he let out a huff of a breath, massaging one of his large, elegant, hands in the other.

"Clodagh I need you to go to bed, now." He said quietly, the words only just skimming past his lips. It was like the soft echo of a warning. My mouth relaxed, unsure what he meant.

"Need? What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, my brow cocking upwards. He looked at me, our eyes flickering at each other, my heart always picked up the pace when he caught me with that verdant stare but this time I worried it'd beat so hard it'd leave my chest.

I wondered if he felt the same, like we were balancing on a precipice...

"It means the longer you stand there, the harder it is for me to think about anything but how beautiful you look tonight or how soft your lips look like they would feel..." He sighed casually, as if he hadn't just dropped an atom bomb of electric current into our conversation.

My heart skipped a beat as I examined him for any sign of dishonesty, there were none just the angular, biblical face of a man who seemed inexplicably enamoured with me.

"No- no, we're not doing this Andrew. I won't indulge your childish whims of flirtation without any intention of any actual contact." I opposed softly, placing my hands up as if in surrender. I couldn't go in circles with him forever. He nodded slowly, scratching his cheek.

"Who says that's what this is?" He mused quietly, seemingly addicted to riling me up. I bit my lip, trying not to roll my eyes.

"Um I dunno, our stellar track record?" I responded condescendingly, remembering the paramount moments wherein he'd frozen, trapped in his past.

He nodded again, turning his gaze from the edge of the doorframe right onto me.

"Fuck the track record."

Before I could process his words, before I could respond, his hands were on me, sliding around my waist and subsequently making those curves, his space to hold.  The action was met with the kind of desperation that usually built over years, like he'd been waiting a Millenia to touch me like this. As if, for better or for worse, the floodgates were now open.

He pulled me into him, into his room, into the sweet heat of his warm body.

And then he kissed me.

He actually did it.

Not doubtfully, not cautiously- but like he meant it, like he'd never meant anything else more. His lips pressed against mine with a quick, electric intensity but they were warm and certain like caramel or espresso. They were easy to follow and in fact impossible not to.

As we kissed I swear the world fell from under my feet, and I fell with it, into a spiral of him, into an infatuation I now knew could never end cleanly.

My breath hitched as he tucked one of his huge hands into the hair at the base of my skull, angling my face as to deepen the kiss. Of course he was good at this, of course his lips were like nicotine, light and hot and impossible to quit. I knew he’d always liked my hair and we kissed for the first time he grabbed at it desperately.

I clutched at his jumper like a life raft. His lips were gentle but focused and his tongue carefully brushed against mine, asking and answering a question all in one action. I opened my mouth ever so slightly wider as the kiss deepened again.

He kissed me like a man who'd thought about this, who'd fantasised about this and hated himself for it….

Until now- where he found himself tangled up with me, his fingers caught in my curls, his other arm hooked around my waist, his palm pressed to my spine and his lips melting into mine like butter into sugar.

When he finally pulled away we were both gasping for air and his forehead rested against mine. My heart was buzzing so fast it felt like flutters, and my hands were still clawed into the wool of his sweater.

He brushed a thumb over my cheek like he expected me to be an apparition and slowly our breathing fell in sync.

"Why did you stop?" I asked breathlessly, letting my hands press inward to mould to the shape of his ribs. He cracked a smile, the most genuine one I'd seen from him that evening, crooked and with teeth.

"So we didn't suffocate." He breathed, clearly as oxygen deprived as I was. My stomach was in knots as we looked at one another, that was the most like a real person, an animal, I'd ever felt.

"Would've been a good way to go." I chuckled awkwardly, papering my eyes closed for just a second. A quick breath left his mouth and he shook his head, his eye contact was made all the more serious by the sudden dilation of his pupils.

"Not when there is so much more I need of you." He breathed, kissing me again quickly, our lips soft and sticky together. I suddenly realised the dam wall had broken and he was ready to give it all to me.

I grabbed the back of his neck and then his shoulder, kissing him with the same dedication he gave me. Our bodies were pressed together, my breasts squished against the flat cage of his chest and he pulled my hips against his rhythmically.

"I didn't think it could be better than how I'd imagined." He pulled away, whispering honestly before kissing me again, this time both of his large hands cupping my cheeks. Everything was spinning except us, everything was clashing and colliding around us- but we were still, sharing kisses like breath.

I couldn't tell who started moving but soon enough I felt the soft embrace of his bed below my spine and his body on top of mine. This was everything, everything I needed it to be, more than I had hoped it could be.

His mouth moved to my neck, making me gasp quietly and pull his hair out of its bun, allowing the curls to splay wherever they so chose. The soft smell of his shampoo filled my nose along side his warm, deep scent,

"I wanna see your tattoos." He mumbled, his lips and nose pressed roughly against my neck as he started trailing desperate kisses downward. He'd often shown an interest in my tattoo spattered skin. My stomach was fluttering, buzzing warmly as his hands grabbed at me, pressing into me and communicating in every way they could how grateful they were to be touching me.

"Where would you like to start?" I asked, my voice breathy and agreeable. He kept his lips on my neck for a few delicious seconds, his short beard grazing my skin in a prickly shower before he pulled away. My eyes were glued his every move, he laid on his side and placed his hand over my hip bone, slowly moving it up over a bare patch of my stomach before slithering over my shirt and letting his fingers grip the zipper that sat between my clavicles and held my modesty between its teeth.

"Here." He whispered, a pressure made itself known on the end of the zip- he wasn't pulling it down, he wouldn't until I said yes, but he wanted to. I froze for a second, this seemed a pivotal moment- was I really going to have sex with him? Would I really do that to Harry?

"Sorry- is this too much? We don't have to do-" He suddenly relented, but his fingers weren't quite able to let go of the zip. In the second the offer of him was almost taken away- I made my decision.

"Open it." I breathed, nervous for him to see me, for me to actually begin to expose myself as if we hadn't already been so vulnerable together, as if I couldn’t eel how hard he was against my thigh.

He smirked and did exactly that, slowly pulling the zip until my shirt fell open and he was staring at me, his eyes unable to stop skirting between my inked skin and my tight, icy pink bra.

I shimmied up to let him tug the rest of my shirt off my arms. When I was free of the garment I let myself lean forward and kiss him, he smiled against my lips, cradling the back of my head in his huge hand and laying me back down.

"You know you're like- unreasonably and frustratingly beautiful, right?" He asked as he hovered over me, those large mossy eyes enamoured by my form. I was sure that I blushed in response.

"I could say the same thing to you." I murmured, brushing my thumb over his cheek, feeling his stubble below my fingers. He rolled his eyes before kissing me quickly.

"Your tattoos are beautiful, what's this one?" He asked, laying his finger over the mesh panel of my bra that sat between my breasts, referring to a small tattoo partially visible through the mesh. A smile tugged at my lips and I sat up, watching him with a half lidded stare.

"You'll have to take this off and see." I pouted innocently at him, watching his eyes light up dangerously. He sighed deeply, leaning forward, grabbing my waist and pressing me back down into the duvet.

"You're gonna fucking kill me, Clo." He growled hoarsely in my ear. His calloused fingers pressed tightly against my waist as he kissed my neck, sometimes the language he was most fluent in was touch.

His hands dug themselves into the mattress below me, unhooking my bra with ease before he tucked his fingers below the lacy straps and pulled the entire thing off my chest. We were really doing this, the man who two months ago dumped a lifetime of baggage on me and then went awol was now staring at my half naked body.

His eyes rolled as he looked down at me and let out a strangled sound, half sigh, half growl- bowing his head to my sternum and kissing the text he'd revealed that sat between my breasts.

"Faiyum." He whispered, half adoring, half questioning. His lips hovered over the tattoo, his chin resting on my sternum as he looked up at me with those inky green eyes.

"It's in Egypt, where James and I were born." I breathed, shoving my fingers into his hair and tugging gently. I never spoke about my childhood, even Harry thought I was born in Ireland.

"There's so much about you I don't know." He murmured, looking at me as he pressed a kiss to the underside of my left breast, and then my right. The warmth budding between my thighs was impossible to ignore as his lips made soft worship of my form.

A soft whine fell unwillingly from my lips as he kissed the swell of my nipple, teasing the other with his long fingers. My back arched and it was becoming quickly apparent that sleeping with Andrew wasn't just made exciting by our chemistry, by agonising months of tension- but also by his passion, his songs made it seem like he was a dedicated lover- his real life performance so far, only supported this.

As his tongue and fingers slid skilfully over the most sensitive parts of me he'd seen, I squirmed in pleasure, not used to someone spending this much time on my body, bringing me such pleasure without so much as anything below the belt. I grabbed fistfuls of his jumper as he nipped my skin and tugged until he was forced to break contact with me to allow me to rip the thing off.

His body was thin and lanky but defined in all the right places, my eyes glimmered over small freckles that dusted his flesh and the way his wiry muscles moved below his pale skin. I was trapped by him, by his beauty, his movements, his skill.

Our eyes locked a moment, as he hovered above me, his knees digging into the bed either side of my right thigh.

"I've never regretted those times I didn't kiss you more than now, when I finally have you and I'm leavin' tomorrow." He sighed disappointedly, and he was right, now that we were doing this I knew I'd want it all the time- but "this" was still undefined and rather impossible to even be defined.

“Don’t think about tomorrow, tonight has barely started.” I whispered, rubbing his cheek with my hand, enjoying the stubble against my skin and the sharp contours of his face.

He turned his head, kissing the skin of my palm and nodding slowly. He pecked the inside of my wrist, up to my elbow, to my shoulder, my collarbones, my neck, my lips.

I groaned in want as we kissed and let my hands tug at his hair, curling my legs around his torso and biting his bottom lip. All I could think about was the moment he’d slide into me, my hips started to roll at the thought.

He grunted softly and met my rhythm, our pelvises grinding against each other’s as we kissed, I could feel how hard he was, how eager he was, and all for me.

His body was heavy and warm on top of mine, his soft, masculine smell intoxicated me as my hands dragged themselves down the plain of his back.

A thin, short string of salvia broke between us as he pulled away, panting quietly and looking down at me with parted lips.

“We don’t have to do this, y’know? And I didn’t invite you over just to seduce you- I don’t want you to think I’m just here for an easy fuck.” He mumbled all breath and pounding heart beat. I chuckled at his sweet nature, tilting my head back and feeling my stomach stir wantonly.

“I want to do this Andrew, obviously we don’t have to- but I’m uh not feeling used if that’s what you’re worried about.” I chuckled airily, watching him bite his lip and nod, but I still sensed some uncertainty and so I carefully shimmied out of my jeans, lying beneath him in nothing but my thong.

I pecked his lips before pressing them right by his ear, tucking his hair behind it before whispering.

“You’re more than welcome to feel how wet for you I already am, if you need convincing.”

He made a soft, animal sound and grabbed my waist, pushing me back down against the duvet and kissing my neck like a chef seasoning his meal, his teeth grazed my skin and I was sickly excited to see the marks that would be left in his wake.

He leant on his knees and forearm as he took his free hand to my breast, squeezing gently, watching how my flesh responded to his touch. His fingers trailed across the vine and small leaves that wrapped around a third of my stomach, curling along my ass cheek, his fingertips made me shiver. As they reached the soft spot between my thighs, rubbing frustratingly softly over my underwear, I wanted to scream.

“Please-” My plea was cut short when his fingers tucked themselves beneath the crotch of my underwear, slowly driving between my folds. We both gasped.

“Christ, you are wet.” He agreed, his eyes unbreaking on mine as his middle finger gently explored a part of me I never thought he’d grow familiar with. I whimpered slightly as he grazed my clit, smirking at the response I gave.

“I know- I’m ready, I need you inside me, Andrew.” I breathed, pressing my forehead to his as I spoke my most secret desire, feeling him touch me in the gentlest way he could.

“I wanna see you come first.” He whispered before kissing me gently, pulling his hand back to squeeze my thigh. My stomach twisted awkwardly and I suddenly regretted how much I wanted to be honest with him. That probably wouldn’t happen, and I hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Sure, sure. I uh- ehm- just to let you know I can’t come- I haven’t ehm finished-”

“Ever?” He interrupted quickly, wide eyed and clearly horrified at the thought of me leading an orgamsless life. I chuckled a little.

“No- I meant no one else has made me come before- don’t like worry or anything I’m happy to get myself off it just feels wrong to fake it with you and I don’t want to make things awkward when it doesn’t happen.” I confessed, even though it made my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
I wasn’t unusual, a lot of the women I knew had no trouble coming by themselves but found It impossible for someone else to do it.

Andy nodded supportively but shook his head before lowering it to be able to kiss my collarbones, one peck on each. I was worried, unsure what he would say, if he’d be put off or insist that he was some sex God who could definitely make me come (this had happened a few times, but they were never able to deliver.)

“Let me try, let me touch you- tell me what feels good, tell me what would feel better, and if it’s not working I am definitely not opposed to watching you touch yourself. I don’t care how we do this, as long as you enjoy it.” He smirked, his fingers toying with my underwear, asking silent permission to touch me again.
His humble, caring response only made me more ravenous for him.

“Good answer.” I chuckled, lifting my hips and letting him pull my thong off. He sighed as I finally laid completely bare below him. He was grinning, his brows raising before he kissed me again, each touch tender and soft. I moaned quietly as he dragged his fingers back down between my thighs, trailing them over me so lightly it made me shake.

I was consumed by his every movement, he laid on his side next to me and I was focused, watching him smirk before he grabbed my thighs and pressed them open, craning up to let his eyes fall between them. I squirmed in mild embarrassment as his gaze locked on me. There was nowhere to hide like this- but he just shook his head and chuckled airily.

I couldn’t believe we were doing this, I couldn’t believe he was seeing me, all of me- and soon, I’d see all of him too.

“Right, so quite literally every single inch of you is exquisite, unsurprising.” He grumbled suavely, my body shivering as he dipped the tips of his middle and ring finger into my entrance. My body was hot and my breath baited as he spread my arousal through me, the pads of his digits eventually landing either side of my clit where he rubbed gently. The feeling was unexpectedly good,

Of course he knew what he was doing.

My body betrayed me, releasing an embarrassing noise as it accepted the pleasure he started to give. My eyes locked on his as he touched me, slow and gentle and with the dexterity you’d expect from a guitar player.

“How’s that, honey?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual and the pet name he used made me bite my lip. I watched as his hair slowly swayed with his movements and his eyes occasionally fell my face to his hand that was slowly and teasingly pleasuring me.

“It’s- like really good.” I chuckled, my teeth sinking into my lower lip. He did such a perfect job of keeping me locked in the balance of slow and sweet, my hips began to roll ever so slightly.

“There’s no pressure to finish right away or at all, we have all night, just let yourself feel good, I just want to watch you feel good- you beautiful, beautiful woman.” He purred, watching me intently with those dangerous eyes. I glanced down at his large, pale hand, working gently between my thighs, the sweet sound of how wet he’d made me made us both groan.

“Kiss me.” I whispered as I looked up at him, he had no issue obliging and soon our mouths were meeting yet again, slow and tender as he toyed with me for the first time.

I moaned sweetly into his mouth as he continued his actions, my body quickly warming up to him.

“Faster, please.” I whispered against his lips.

“What would you like me to do for you baby? What would make you feel good?” He asked, his hot breath and hotter words floating by my ear teasingly. I whined and bit my lip, I usually found it hard to voice what I wanted, but he made it easy, he made this all so fucking easy.

“Can you- can you use those fingers inside of me and your thumb on my clit? I think that- would feel good.” I murmured, finding it hard to find the words as he continued teasing my clit. He hummed darkly and nodded.

“Absolutely. I’m dying to feel how warm you are.” He breathed and suddenly but gently pressed his fingers into me, there was no resistance. I was so relaxed that my body, my mind, both- they couldn’t put up any barriers, they let him do whatever he wanted, and he wanted to make me feel amazing.

I squirmed as his thumb laid gently over my clit, he knew how sensitive I was and made his actions soft and slow. It was a perfect combination, his fingers which were delightfully long, curled inside of me and the wet sound ensuing was utterly indecent. His thumb rolled across me gently and purposefully and as much as my mind was clouded with my own pleasure- I could see how much he liked this.

I wasn’t sure how he’d be in bed, but I now knew he was slick, experienced and surprisingly dominant. He wanted me to feel good and he wasn’t allowing another option.

He was so hard I could feel him throbbing against my outer thigh and through his sweats. I knew he was desperate but he was so fully focused on my pleasure.

“Touch yourself, Clodagh. Play with that beautiful fucken’ body.” He then instructed deeply, making a shiver roll down my spine.

“W-where?” I asked quietly, practically unable to think as his fingers worked me into a hot, moist frenzy.

His gaze narrowed, his lips parted as he watched me gasp in pleasure. He was enjoying this, enjoying turning me into a wordless, thoughtless mess.

“Wherever will make you feel the best…. Tomorrow morning I will make every inch of you, mine. I will trace each and every one of your tattoos with my tongue and then I will go down on you until you beg me to stop, I will make sure before I leave that you know how absolutely transcendent you are but for now I want to watch you worship yourself.” He explained deeply, as if that wasn’t the most utterly ravenous thing anyone has ever said. I hadn’t expected him to be so vocal, to really talk me through it, but then again, he was a lyricist. He’d made a living writing about intimacy.

He had me wrapped around his finger in every sense of the phrase but he wasn’t the only with the power here.

“Like this?” I purred, batting my eyes at him as I took my breasts in my hands and squeezed, letting my fingertips brush over my nipples and my back arch. He had me enamoured, hanging off his every word but he’d already confessed to how much he wanted me, how beautiful he thought I was.

It wasn’t hard to see how desperate he became when I played into his whims as he fingered me. I touched myself in the ways that felt the best, they just so happened to be the ways I knew would make him the weakest.

He nodded, his lips falling apart in adoration.

“Do you like watching me like this Andrew? Playing with myself while you make me feel so fucking good? Is it everything you pictured? Is this what you imagined me doing? Touching myself? Squeezing all the places you’ve been dying to get your hands on?” I cooed, watching him crack with pleasure, his fingers subconsciously speeding up as he flooded me with pleasure.

“Nothing I’ve pictured could compare to this. This- is a fucking privilege.” He breathed, listening as I grew slicker and slicker. My back arched again and small whimpers fell from my lips, I smirked as I grew closer and closer to the edge.

“Can I- can I tell you something?” I asked, my voice cracking and pitching in pleasure, he leant down to kiss my breast, biting one of my fingers gently before his tongue darted over my nipple. My eyes rolled at the delicious feeling and I furrowed my brows.

“Anything.” He responded, his words were pleading though, both of us were trapped by the other.

“When I do touch myself- you’re who I think about. This- is what I think about, I’ve been trying to stop, it’s so wrong, we’re supposed to be friends and you’re not my boyfriend but when I lay down at night and touch myself- it’s you I’m picturing.” I confessed, hearing him moan and huff in response, clearly overwhelmed by the statement.

He growled, leaning over to nip at the sensitive skin of my breast, chuckling as I yelped.

“Fucking filthy.” He whispered, leaning in to kiss my neck, his gentleness slowly overtaken by something more passionate, a more powerful, innate force.

The words made me shake and I was slowly starting to whine again.

“This is so much better than I could have imagined, and I have imagined so very much of you.” He whispered evilly in my ear before turning his gaze to my centre where I was quickly growing hotter and hotter.

“Keep talking- I’m almost- it’s going to happen.” I admitted, bending my knees slightly as the warm tingly feeling of his fingers started to cloud over my mind.

“I love seeing you like this, I’ve wanted to watch you like this for so long. When you came to my party and we ended up pressed together in the grass, all I could think about were the soft little noises you’d make when I had my way with you. All I could think about was how much I wanted to tear your clothes off and fuck you right there- all I wanted was to know what you look like naked, what you look like when you’re just about to come, when you’re grinding yourself on my hand and let me tell you baby, it is a fucking sight to behold-”

The last few words of his amorous ramble were cut off by my whines. My world had suddenly imploded and as he touched me, and I touched me and I listened to him tell me about his fantasies- I came, harder than ever and louder than ever.

Something that had once been entirely my own, was now his too.

My body quaked in pleasure, unable to process such a sensation. He kept touching me, slowly growing gentler as I rode out the feeling.

I was puffing loudly as I looked at him, my hands lying limply over my stomach.

He grinned before kissing my forehead.

“You did it birdy. You came so, so hard for me. You’re fucking stunning. I am in awe of you.” He praised, kissing my cheeks and then my lips, moaning softly as he slowly pulled his fingers away from me, smearing my own stickiness over my stomach and between my thighs.

“And you made such a mess.” He tutted, rolling on top of me and grinning wickedly. There was nothing I could say before I realised he planned on cleaning that mess up himself. He kissed my stomach sloppily, dedicating himself to me as he lowered his mouth.

I squeaked as he started lapping at my edges, cleaning up the mess I’d made which was really the mess he’d made.

He licked and kissed and bit my inner thighs, working his mouth inward but not daring to actually touch the softest, wettest parts of me.

My entire body was on fire as I looked at him, he was still him, but possessed by a desire that made me feral. I gasped in surprise as he used his fingers to gently spread me open, his eyes feasting on the most private parts of myself.

I made a quick, strangled, sound, practically begging for mercy as he placed a gentle but wicked kiss right over my clit.

“I’d go down on you right now if y’weren’t so sensitive.” He said gruffly and wickedly before he began to kiss his way back up to my lips.

He was fucking evil- and perfect- so perfect.

I was quick to tug on his sweats as he finally reached my lips, tasting sweeter than when he’d last kissed me, it was a combined effort getting them off but soon enough he was naked and I could feel him, hard and warm, pressed against my thigh. I needed him, my body was telling me quite loudly that I’d never needed anything more than this fucking man.

I glanced down between us, I wanted to see him, I wanted to see all of him. Unsurprisingly, he was large, the biggest I’d ever seen, I suppose it made sense for his frame but I could feel my heart racing excitedly yet again.

His lips nipped at my neck, the movements mellowing into a groan as I took his length in my hand and slowly stroked him. It was almost annoying how blessed he was, down to his very nakedness but it was satisfying to hear how he whimpered under my touch- how my influence on him was just as powerful as his on me.

“Christ- I needed this- I need you.” He spat as I touched him, squeezing and rubbing gently as I sunk my teeth into his stubbly neck. I chuckled wickedly in response, enjoying the way I could make him feel exactly as he’d made me feel.

“Fuck- I need to feel you, Clodagh. I wanna feel you.” He whined, pressing his forehead to mine as he liked to do, his eyes falling closed as I pleasured him.

“So feel me, Andrew.” I purred, craning my neck upward to kiss him, he kissed me back, sloppily and desperately before pulling away and leaning toward the side of the bed. I admired the musculature of his body as he stretched to open the drawer of his nightstand, rummaging eagerly.

I watched, his cheeks were pink and he was biting his lip, he chucked things around the drawer for about thirty seconds before rolling his eyes and groaning in almost devastation.

“Fuck!” He spat, grabbing the headboard with the hand he’d had in the drawer. This curse wasn’t one of pleasure, he was frustrated.

“What?” I asked, cupping his cheek in my hand and examining his pretty face. He sighed loudly, pursing his lips as he looked at me guiltily.

“I don’t have a condom.” He said flatly, huffing as he laid atop me, I could feel him throbbing with want, with desire, desire for me…

“So fuck me raw.” I whispered back, not used to being so vulgar but needing nothing more than to feel him press into me. His eyes flickered with excitement and apprehension, there was an animalistic chemistry between us- but there were still responsibilities to think about.

“I’m on the pill.” I then said, but I’d understand if he didn’t want to. After everything with Michelle, I well and truly understood.

“Are you sure?” He asked me, to which I could only nod, looking down between us at his cock that had no business being anywhere but buried in me.

“I want you, just you.” I promised, brushing his cheek again and watching slowly nod, chestnut curls swaying as he did. A wicked excitement flooded me as he took himself in his large hand and started pumping slowly. His eyes made a blazing trail from my chest to my pelvis and he was careful pushing my legs to the sides before looking at me for confirmation.

“Is this what you want?” He asked, his length now laying over my folds, achingly close. I felt my eyelids flutter as I nodded. In the moment he was all I wanted, he was all I needed, all that could content me.

“Yes. More than anything else.” I promised, my body was burning for him, any longer and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself begging for it. He bit his lip, his jaw clenched and he nodded, his eyes trained on where we were about to intersect.

He moved himself over me, coating himself in my arousal before probing at my entrance.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” He whispered gruffly but before I could respond I was gasping. He slowly pressed into me, opening me up to him gradually. The feeling was inexplicable, cloudy and warm, heavy and sweet, sharp and full. His face scrunched in pleasure as he gasped along side me before relaxing into an open mouthed grin.

Even though I’d only seen it once, I knew this my favourite way to see him: bursting at the seams, passionate, pink cheeked and messy haired…

We’d finally done it, I’d be in utter disbelief were it not the deep pressure he forced into my body.

“Oh my God.” I mumbled as he began a slow, deep pace, his hips annexing mine. He leant forward and suddenly we were a cloud of pleasure, melting into one another, mixing and whining and kissing wildly.

He was feverish in his pursuit, desperate and primal as he rocked into me. I whimpered and grabbed at his hair, taking fistfuls in my hands as an anchor.

He let out small, pleasurable sounds into my mouth as we made love. He had no trouble letting me know how good he felt and I had no trouble doing the same. The space between us was hot and slick and our hands battled to find enough of each other to satisfy ourselves.

“Fuck you feel so good, Clodagh.” He mumbled, bowing his head to kiss my neck. I was unsure how’d I lived so long without the pleasure of hearing him groan my name as he fucked me.

My body was pinned to his mattress as he found a rhythm that made us both moan loudly. This moment was one I’d replay over and over again, it was just us- just us discovering each other in the best way possible. There was nothing else, no one else, just us, just him and I.

It didn’t feel like this with anyone else, didn’t feel so immersive, so important, so… biblical.

I clenched around him in pleasure and listened to him whine in response, speeding up as he chased his pleasure roughly. His lack of neighbours meant neither of us were holding back, and we laid together in a rhythmic, messy, noisy, bubble. My ears were blessed with the sound of his body crashing against mine and the wet noise of him pounding into mine, all complimented by own soft vocalisations.

“Jesus, fuck- Andy- that feels so good, you’re so- deep.” I confessed, my back arching and my thighs wrapping tightly around his torso as I watched him bowl closer to his climax.

“Clodagh, Clodagh, Clodagh…” He repeated, a soft, prayer like whisper in my ear. I was groaning at the pressure of his now bruising pace, my hands grabbed at his sides, curling around the curve of his ribcage.

“I’ve wanted this for long- wanted you to fuck me like this for so long.” I cried out, gasping as he removed my hands from his body and pinned them together at the wrists, pressing them into the mattress above my head.

He grabbed the headboard with one hand and secured my wrists with the other as he looked down at me, his green eyes were half lidded and swollen with lust and his lips were red and kiss swollen.

“Yeah? You’ve wanted this for a while?” He hummed, looking down at me with a gaze I’d never quite seen from anyone else. All I could manage was a nod as he used me to pleasure us both.

“Then take it nice and deep for me.” He cooed, cocky and condescending in a way that only made me like him more.

I mewed as he sped up again, somehow hitting deeper and faster, my vision blurring and body growing lighter and lighter.

“Andy- oh- oh my- fuck.” I whimpered uncontrollably, only more turned on by his response of a wicked chuckle.

“I know birdy, it’s so much, and you’re so so full but you can take it for me.” He encouraged, his words smooth and authoritative as he forced me to do exactly that. Only this time he sat back, keeping one hand wrapped like iron around my wrists and bringing the other to my face, his thumb laying across my lips.

I opened my mouth and sucked on the digit suggestively, forcing him to meet my gaze, to really look at me while I took his thumb in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before releasing him.

His eyes smouldered on mine as he took his now moist thumb and started toying with my clit, already swollen and over stimulated.

I cried out in hot, itchy pleasure and watched him smirk proudly down at me.

“You’re so big- so- so deep- holy shit- baby- please, fuck yes- fuck.” I moaned, my words half intelligible, half pleasure drunk pleas only he would understand. My body was tight like a hot coil as his thumb rolled over my clit and he pressed himself into me deeper than should be possible.

I could tell he was getting close, his grip on my wrists tightened almost painfully and his hips were forceful but growing sloppier. I could barely believe it but I was about to come again.

“I’m so close- I’m gonna- fuck- I’m-”

“Not yet, not yet baby. Wait for me.” He ordered, slowing his thumb enough to keep me on edge. We were both sweaty and heaving and pleas I’d been trying so hard to dampen were spilling from my lips.

I’d gone from not speaking to him to begging him to let me come. His body was hot and fast above mine and I whined as an unfamiliar dangerous fullness started to creep into my pelvis.

“Mmph- wait- wait- I feel like I’m gonna-” I started to panic but he shook his head, shushing me softly and pinning my wrists further into the mattress.

“Shh, it’s okay, trust me birdy, just trust me. Let the feeling roll over, let it happen. Let it happen…” He demanded, his voice quiet and desperate, breathy and raspy and yet full of an authority I couldn’t oppose.

He sped his thumb back up and suddenly I was in heaven, blinding white pleasure crashed over me in a way I’d never experienced, I felt finally complete.

I all but squealed as we finished at the same time, his groans and beautiful, desperate, whines weren’t enough to dull the surprise of our climax. In an instant, all that pressure was released and a gush of something sweet and unfamiliar had erupted between us- I was dropped into utter shock at the idea it had come from me.

“There you go, good job, fuck- yes, that’s it… Oh- Honey.” He praised me, his thumb gradually slowing as mine and his orgasm finally finished. His praise made me weak and soft for him, my eyes catching his. I was sure I looked confused, embarrassed and wrecked but he was smiling lazily as he rubbed my hip with his thumb.

“Fuck, you did so so good for me.” He chuckled in disbelief as he slowly, achingly pulled out. My body was limp, half drunk, half more alive than it had ever been.

I looked at him red and slowly softening and then our stomachs, glistening with moisture.

“Did that- was that me? I’ve never- Jesus…” I mumbled incoherently, I had never come with anyone else and now he was making things happen I didn’t think were possible. Andrew shook his head tiredly and kissed my jaw, then my neck, his lips teasing by my ear and his stubble prickling my skin.

“Don’t worry baby, yes it was you. You were perfect, you are perfect- So. Fucking. Perfect.”

Notes:

well. I don’t have much to say, but I’d love to hear what you guys think now these two have finally given in to each other….

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Notes:

Enjoy lovelies,

 

Instagram for mood boards and updates on posting schedules: clumsyletters_

Andrew

Oh my God.
Oh my God.

Oh. My. God.

I was in a state of blissful shock, naked, panting and staring at the ceiling. I was mustering up the courage  to look to my left and look at her but I was certain that I'd be met with an empty bed, that I was going vividly and irrevocably insane or that I'd just woken from an incredibly real dream.

Either of those seemed like a far more logical explanation than that out of some pure chance, after months of push and pull, after months of denial- Clodagh and I cracked on the same night.

And yet, we had- I could hear her soft pants beside me and I could practically feel the warmth radiating from her bare skin beside me. My head was spinning but she really was here.

"I know you've probably had sex wit' like two hundred women who are all models but that was, for me at least... Christ, that was amazing." She whispered next to me, I let out a tired chuckle and rubbed my brow bone, astounded that she thought I might have had a better experience with someone else but incredibly smug that she’d enjoyed her time with me.

Her big golden eyes were fluttering softly when I looked over at her, baby hairs were pasted to her forehead with damp sweat and she laid her hands over her chest, palm flat to feel her racing heart.

I was convinced she got more beautiful each time I looked at her.

I'd seen all of her now and yet it still didn't seem possible that she was absolutely naked beside me.

"You realise you're divine, right? That was the kind of sex that drives men insane- I'm scared I'll never be able to t'ink about anything else." I groaned as I looked at her, splayed on her back with her thighs still open. I wished I could draw her, the elegant laziness, the beauty of her soft brown skin all bare on display. It didn't seem like something I should be allowed to see, her naked, spent form. I'd been trying to play it cool but when she took her clothes off, when I finally got to see what was hidden below her outfits- I was done for.

"Well you sort of already confessed that you think about it all the time, so will anything really change?" She teased, referring to the moments when I'd told her how long I'd waited for this, the things I'd thought about doing to her.

"Oh, and who do you think about when you masturbate?" I quipped back, watching her immediately blush and then moan in regret. When she told me it was me she thought about while she touched herself I'd been filled with a deep, possessive pride.

"I can't believe I told you that." She groaned into her hands, covering her face in embarrassment. I laughed to myself and reached out to squeeze her arm.

"You told me a lot of things, that in all honesty were very surprising." I mused, biting my lip in pure adoration as I watched her grin awkwardly, all wide eyed and bashful.

"That wasn't me. That woman was an absolute beast, insatiable like." She hummed in response. The thing is, that woman was her, that was the beautiful thing. The sweet, giggly, woman who was looking up at me now with her saccharine smile and had been my friend for months now, was also the woman I'd just been worshipping.

I needed to say something but I found it hard to form words when I really looked at her, and so I glanced away.

"Well give her my regards." I chuckled, leaning down to kiss her, feeling those soft brown lips melt into mine before I slowly rolled out of bed.

"I'll be right back, okay?" I promised, headed toward the bathroom she grumbled something about not taking too long and caught my hand in hers, squeezing gently before she let me leave.

I grabbed my sweats which had been tossed to the floor earlier and pulled them on before trudging into the bathroom. I closed the door just so she wouldn't see me grin the second I looked at myself- sure, I was leaving tomorrow or I guess this afternoon but for now I was the guy who just pulled the most fantastic woman he'd ever known. For now, I was the guy who had just made the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, come twice.

I was smug, of course I was smug.

She chose me over him and I'd been able to please her in ways no one else had...

I bit my lip as I thought about Harry- of course I felt terrible for the guy but my empathy couldn't extend far enough to dampen my own excitement. I also knew I wasn't going to mention him, Clodagh was a good person far better than me, sooner or later I worried she would crumble with guilt. I didn’t want anything to ruin the rest of our time together.

Selfishly, I threw any thoughts of the poor lad from my mind and pursed my lips, trying and failing to not be so damn proud of myself. I grabbed a washer, dampening it before cleaning my abdomen of the sticky residue she'd left in her wake. Every time I pictured what we'd just did, the sounds she'd just made, the smell of her skin, the taste of her lips, the way she had gushed around me- my heart started to thud again.

I shook my head to empty the thoughts, I had plenty of time to replay those on the plane tomorrow for now, she was here and waiting for me.

I dampened another cloth before opening the door back up, she was in the same position I'd left her in but one leg dangled off the side of my bed.

"Here." I murmured, handing her the cloth, watching as she smiled and thanked me before tucking it between her legs.

It wasn't lost on me how irresponsible it probably was to have had unprotected sex with her but something told me she was probably more diligent with her birth control than Michelle had been and when she'd asked me to fuck her raw something more primal and far less logical took me over.

"Thank you, baby." She mumbled tiredly, forcing a smile to crack across my face. Baby, she hadn't called me that before tonight.

"Can I get you anything, while I'm up?" I asked her, ready to cut my heart and serve it on a platter if she asked. She shook her head and latched her arms around my leg.

"No, just you, come back to bed." She groaned stubbornly. I laughed softly and nodded, biting my lip as if that may hide the extent of my admiration.

"I will, I will, are you sure I can't get you some water, though?" I asked, stroking her hair as I waited for a response. She smacked her obviously dry lips and nodded.

"Yes please. Be quick."

And I planned on it, there was no where I'd rather be than beside her.

I swiftly made my way to the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and filling them with cold filtered water. My mind was wandering back to thoughts of her squirming underneath me when my phone started to buzz incessantly on the counter.

I turned it over to see Alex was FaceTiming me. I sighed and answered quickly. He was in a blurry club somewhere, the thud of the bass audible over the line.

"Mate this is a terrible time." I said instantly but he shook his head and grinned, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"I know yer' leaving tomorrow so why aren't you out wit' us?" He whined into the phone. I rolled my eyes, about to tell him I was too tired when a sweet voice filled the room.

"Andy? Who are you talking to? Can I have cold water?" I heard Clodagh's soft question from far behind me. Alex's face dropped in surprise before cracking into a wide grin as she no doubt appeared behind me.

"You filthy dog." He whispered accusatorially and suddenly I hoped she had put on some clothes before walking into the kitchen.

"Clodagh! How're ye' keeping?" He boomed as I turned to look at her. She had put her hair up and was wearing my black jumper from earlier in the evening. It was short and ended about half an inch below what would expose her but more importantly it was mine, and she was wearing it and nothing else, and something about the co-existence of those facts made me want to hang up on Alex and carry her right back to bed.

"Ehm... I'm alright." She mumbled awkwardly, walking up so she could stand half behind me and cover herself up. Her beautiful long legs were covered by my body but the pink and purple blossoms I'd left on her neck were more than visible.

"Christ so how'd this happen? When did this happen? Are ye' together or just ridin'? Doesn't Clodagh have a boyfriend? The one you made me follow on instagra-"

I cleared my throat to interrupt Alex's drunken and incriminating speech.

"Alright Alex I'm hanging up now, bye." Clodagh said promptly, tucking her arm under mine to press the end call button. I chuckled, grateful for her swift action and then looked down at her.

"I was going to walk out here naked." She commented with a soft smirk before she curled her arms around my waist and rested her cheek on my shoulder blade. I shivered, the touch felt more intimate than anything else we'd just done.

"Jumper looks good on you." I hummed, squeezing her forearms before she sighed loudly and let me go.

"I know. Might steal it." She chuckled before her long arm reached in front of me to grab her water and then she was gone. I spun around, watching her walk back to the bedroom, her hips swinging hypnotically as I followed her.

I tried not to have a vocal response as I watched her slip the jumper off and reveal her beautiful self to me again.

"Close your mout' before you catch flies." She chuckled as she fell back onto my bed.

"You're naked, like really naked and I've been wanting to see you naked for a very long time- let me enjoy it." I complained before sitting beside her. She grinned at me and shrugged.

"Right, feast your eyes then I suppose." Her voice, soft and deep swam up to me and all I could do was chuckle. She looked up at me, her glittering eyes piercing mine in a way that dubbed me absolutely wordless.

"I can't believe you seduced me." She tutted and let a smirk crawl across her pink lips. I laughed deeply and shook my head.

"Ehm I just wanted to see all your tattoos." I said in faux defence, my stomach warming as I watched her laugh and roll her eyes.

"Shite job you did, only saw about 70%." She chuckled, making me look at her confusedly. I'd seen so many, the little bird on her hip, the letters of her birthplace between her breasts, the vines that ran across her side and her stomach, even the dragon fly she had tattooed on her inner thigh....

She clearly picked up on my confusion, and kindly turned over. I all but broke when I saw even more of her beautiful skin, she was right I hadn't seen the tattoos on her back. I hadn't seen any of her back, at all. There was a small willow tree on her left shoulder blade, an eagle on her right flank, her vines curved around some of her back as well and then there were the little angel wings positioned right above her ass- which by the way, like the rest of her, was unfathomably beautiful.

It was soft and round and one of her vines inked over a little of it. I sighed in awe, dragging my fingertips down her back before giving her right ass cheek a sharp but playful slap. She gasped and jolted, throwing me a warning look over her shoulder. Her swollen lips, the tip of her curved nose and half of her yellow gaze was all I could see peeking out from her long, dark hair.

"What was that for?" She smiled, narrowing her eyes at me. I smiled sheepishly and shrugged, leaning forward so my body was pressed to hers and I could tilt my chin over her shoulder to kiss her sweetly.

"Honestly? I just wanted to see your ass jiggle." I confessed, both of us chuckling in response as I rolled off of her and sat up against the headboard.

"Was it worth it?" She queried, narrowing her eyes at me. I was still working on how to form words in her presence and so I cleared my throat.

"Without a doubt." I breathed, watching her roll over and sit up beside me. She eyed me dangerously, those eyes falling to my lips before kissing me gently. Her lips tasted like wine and divinity, I moaned softly into her mouth as she slid into my lap, never breaking our kiss. We both breathed heavily as we kissed and I was very quickly throbbing again.

"That was quick." She chuckled, placing a kiss on my jaw and then wrapping her hand around me tightly. I gasped, pressing our foreheads together and groaning.

"You're like gorgeous and naked and on top of me and I can feel how wet you still are." I breathed in explanation which only made her chuckle deeply again.

"Well... I could just slide onto you right now." She teased, tightening her grip on me and nipping my jaw. I grunted, half growling, half pleading.

"Please-"

My words were cut short when she did exactly that...

—
We were both breathless with pleasure by the time we were done. Our bodies were limber with residual pleasure and its resulting exhaustion and I watched as she laid beside me, huffing softly. My eyes couldn't help but fall over her soft curves, drinking in all of beautiful smooth skin. I'd be gone for 6 months and part of me was subconsciously gorging on her appearance, committing her to memory.

We'd slept together twice now and yet I still couldn't quite come to terms with the fact I'd gotten to peel her clothes off her body, that I'd gotten to feel the inside of her- be as close as humanly possible.

"I'm turning this off to like... Convince our bodies to sleep." Clodagh chuckled breathlessly, pulling me out of my mind as she stretched her arm over me, reaching for the switch of my lamp. It was a simple gesture, just the soft swell of her breast and silky tendrils of her hair falling over my skin as she flicked it off.

"I don't turning off the lights will make me any less inclined to have sex especially with you." I responded, tucking my hand under my head as I looked over at her. I could still trace the edges of her body with the lights off, my white bed linen seemed to glow against the dark contours of her form above it.

"Shh think about sleep. You have a plane to catch soon." She was trying to be light hearted but I could hear a hitch in her voice when she mentioned my leaving. A soft guilt and longing tugged at my stomach.
When I'd invited her over I'd expected us to make amends, to talk and hash things out and give myself a little closure before I left. I hadn't expected she'd let me see her in ways I'd only dreamt of, I hadn't expected her to make it that much harder to go.

"I worry- I think I've done it again." I sighed guiltily into the forgiving darkness of my bedroom. I felt her shift and heard a small sigh leave her lips.

"Done what again?" She asked, her voice breathy and tired. I knew I should let her sleep but I knew when we woke up I had to leave.

"Made this all complicated... Made this kinda unbearable. I want to make this album, I want to work and yet I don't want to leave- even a little." I groaned, thinking about how awful my timing was.

"Well yeah you did give me an earth shattering lay and you're leaving for six months in a few hours, but I don't regret anything." She agreed but disagreed with me, something she did often. I shrugged and shook my head a little.

"You should come out sometime." I blurted, before turning over to face her. She let out a soft chuckle.

"I'm not sure a trip to LA is really in the budget right now." She explained softly, dragging her fingertips gently down the side of my body. My skin responded to her with soft, abundant goosebumps.

"I'd pay, obviously." I responded, watching as she fell silent a moment and then sighed.

"I can't- I can't let you do that. It's just too much- I mean it's like a thousand quid for just the plane ticket, then I'd have to figure out accommodation- and I mean, I could- I have the money but the business is only just starting up and I want to keep a bit of a parachute you know?" She hummed, ever the pragmatist. I smiled softly and shrugged.

"Can I say something and you promise not to think I'm an arse?" I asked quietly, letting my words float over to her. She scoffed and then laughed.

"No absolutely not, but say it anyway."

"You say I can't pay for your airfare because it's too much and I understand- I do, but to me it's not. I mean a thousand quid is- it's just not very much to me. I hate talking about money but don't refuse my offer because you feel guilty. Frankly, there's nothing I'd rather spend the money on." I confessed, shivering as her fingertips moved to my stomach, softly caressing me wherever she saw fit.

"Wow. So you think I'm poor?” She accused in offence, I groaned, having not wanted to make that point at all. She was a long way from poor, I just happened to have accidentally gotten rich.

“No! No- I didn’t-ehm that’s not-”

My words fell flat and dull at the sound of her giggles, even when at my expense they made my stomach grow warm.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just taking the piss. Despite the beautiful house and all the expensive gear and the decorated musical career- I forget that you must be like… rich.” She said to me honestly, her voice had grown quieter in the dark.

“Well- as much as I don’t love to ehm, flaunt my wealth. I am more than happy, and far more than able to pay for your flights to see me and as for accommodation- I don’t want to be presumptuous but I assumed you’d stay with me.” I breathed, terrified she thought that was too forward. She made a soft, contemplative noise and then groaned.

“Well- I guessss I can accept a free trip to LA.” She finally laughed, squeezing my hip gently. I smiled, chewing on the inside of my cheek and nodding.

“Good.” I said smugly, scooting forward so I could kiss her. Each kiss I used as a reminder of our reality, this was real, she was right here and she wanted (for whatever misguided reason,) me.

“I can’t believe we did that…” She suddenly confessed, referring to our intense sexual encounters. I flopped onto my back and laughed in gratitude.

“Can you not?”

“No… I mean if I thought we were going to have sex I probably would have worn matching underwear or- Jesus I haven’t even shaved.” She groaned, which made me laugh in disbelief. I didn’t care what she did with her body hair, but she was all but hairless barring the soft, short, dark patch between her legs. And as for her underwear, it wasn’t on long enough for me to worry.

“What? Who cares?”

“A lot of guys…” She responded slowly. I shook my head and kissed her again, letting my hands squeeze at her hip.

“I don’t care what you do with your body hair, I think the way you are now, was absolutely perfect.” I grumbled in her ear, kissing her neck gently. She let out a soft hum before giggling.

“Another good answer.” She replied, scratching my scalp before I laid beside her again.

“I’m full of them.” I commented and watched as she softly gurgled in attempt to respond.

I chuckled at her sleepiness and placed a kiss by her temple before rolling back.

“Alright, you’re falling asleep on me.”

“Mmph no! No! I’ll stay awake.” She said through a yawn, it was dark but I could still see her eyes growing heavy.

“No ye’ won’t. C’mere, let’s get a few hours.” I responded with a quiet smile, opening my arm and sighing in relief as she shimmied back against my body. Part of me hated the idea of sleeping away the time I had left with her, the other part of me couldn’t wait to sleep with her tucked against my body.

“Promise you’ll wake me up before you leave. Promise you’ll say goodbye.” She whispered sleepily as I held her body against mine. I placed a soft kiss in the crook of her neck and nodded.

“Alright, Birdy.”
———

The morning came soon, too soon and as I woke to the sound of my alarm I was quick to silence it. Clodagh laid fast asleep in the cradle of my body, our breathing had grown in sync and I found myself yet again floored at the fact we’d done this.

I had thirty minutes before I had to leave, my bags were packed in the spare room, my ride to the airport was booked…

I slowly slithered out of bed, grateful she’d remained asleep and watched her a moment.

God, she looked so peaceful, her bareness was only covered by my white sheet and her long hair was sprawled out over her pillow.

As I watched her sleep I let my mouth open in a secret whisper,

“I think I love you.”

And then I went about my morning routine.

-

I felt guilty as I propped the letter on her nightstand, I had promised I'd wake her up to say goodbye but as I showered, ate and considered what it meant to leave, I realised I couldn't bring myself to disturb her and frankly- I didn't want to say goodbye.

And so I didn't, selfishly- I placed the letter for her by her side, I kissed her forehead, and then I left.

—
Birdy,

I know I promised I wouldn't leave without waking you, but frankly you're unaware of how peaceful you look while you sleep. I mean you’re so beautiful, in the same way a painting is beautiful, deliberate and yet accidental and you give me that same feeling.

I don’t know if you’ve ever gotten to see the original version of a famous painting but looking at you reminds me of when I first saw the Mona Lisa. Sure it’s cliche but it was that feeling of reverence, like I should fall to my knees, that’s how I felt when I saw the original painting. That’s how I felt when I saw you sleeping.

I find it far easier to be candid when your honeysuckle gaze isn't trapping mine anyway. You see, you're also unaware of how intimidatingly beautiful you are and as you constantly remind me- I am just a flesh and blood man.

I want to acknowledge that this is all confusing and while I know we haven't labelled anything and I can't take what happened between us as confirmation of anything unsaid- my feelings for you run deep and engrained and I wasn't joking about anything I said last night.

I don’t claim to know how you felt about last night, maybe it was just tension and heat and proximity- but to me? To me it was spiritual, and you know I’m a sceptic.

So whenever you have a spare week, a spare fortnight, let me fly you out, whenever your life forfeits a spot of freedom from work and all of your friends- it would be a privilege to have you here. You'd probably hate LA but I want to show you everything, I want to show you my work, my job- my soul, and for 6 months that will be in the cocaine, cosmo capital of the world.

The fact of the matter is, I can't produce much of an album when you’re so far away. Like I said, I'm not sure how you feel about last night but I know I felt things I don’t have a name for.

The truth is I can’t write the songs I want to when my muse has a name and she’s still warm in my sheets.

I miss you already, call me when you get this and I'll call you when I land.

All my adoration and frankly- obsession,

- Andrew X

P.S
Everything is locked, just pop the code into the gate when you leave (but feel free to stay as long as you like, as long as the quiet doesn’t bother you, I say at least one of us should enjoy the warmth of that bed, scented with the both of us.) The code is 1249.

Notes:

Guys I’m already sick over the fact he’s left the country and I wrote this shite.

Anyway please leave a comment so I’m reminded people actually read this.

Love you all.

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Notes:

Sorry I’ve been AWOL, work has been tough :/

Clodagh

"What's wrong?"

I ground my teeth as I closed the glass door to our little shop, looking over at James who unsurprisingly could pick my mood from a mile away. I wished he hadn't asked and that he'd just let me be because frankly, I had no idea how I felt.

"Nothing."

His face was all concern and lacked his usual jovial scepticism as he looked at me from across the store.

"Don't lie to me Clo."

I sighed and walked towards him placing my bag on the counter, the store was empty, as it usually was when we opened. Bookish customers liked lazy mornings and seemed to trickle in closer to 10 than 8. Still, we both liked that two hours of morning quiet and didn't plan on opening later.

"I- I just-"

I wasn't sure what could be said. He'd asked me what was wrong, and usually that's simple but today it weighed me down like waterlogged clothes.

"Andrew's leaving today isn't he?" He asked, trying to guess my concern and almost getting it right. In a way I wish it was that simple. I clenched my jaw and shrugged. My brain was on overdrive, replaying soft moments from last night over and over and over again. He'd seen me in a way I never thought he would, he touched me in ways no one else had- he'd made come. Several times.

"Yeah, left this morning." My voice was rigid and uncomfortable. The bliss of last night had quickly been mixed with dread and guilt but what made it worse was that in the mix of dread and guilt I couldn't bring myself to feel an ounce of regret. I'd cheated, something I was convinced I'd never do- and yet I didn't regret it.

"Were you at his house last night?" James asked slowly, his eyes hovering over my face. My top teeth sunk into my lip. I couldn't lie to him, I was never able to really lie to him, he knew me better than I did.

"I- ehm, yeah." I admitted.

"Did you guys..." He didn't actually say it, and for that I was grateful, but I nodded.

"Oh."

"Yeah. And now I have to break up with Harry because he didn't deserve this, I feel- just- fucking sick with guilt and I want to say I shouldn't have done it but frankly if presented with the same choice again I'd still do it." I swallowed a lump in my throat and shook my head. I didn't regret sleeping with Andrew, I feared that if it didn't happen last night, that it never would have and I'm glad it happened- I'm so, glad, it happened.

"Oh Clo..." He said, his voice was pitying in a way I found condescending. I sucked my teeth and shrugged.

"Don't do that." He caught me quickly, giving me a glare I'd gotten many times in our lives. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed an apron from behind the counter, tying it tightly around my waist.

"Do what?" I spat back, our interaction's dynamic quickly falling into one of that familiar sibling squabbling,

"Something bad happens and you get all sharp and uptight. You can talk to me you know, we share like all of our DNA so I have to be on your side." He responded, glaring at me knowingly. His eyes were narrowed, glowing beneath his thick, black eyebrows. Sometimes when I looked at him, I still saw the softer face he sported as a child.

"Fine. There's just not much to say outside of the fact I have weird and big and complicated feelings about Andrew, I'm sad he's gone, I'm sad I cheated on Harry and selfishly, I'm dreading having to break up with him. He didn't deserve this but I feel sick at the thought of having to face him." I explained quietly, looking down at my cuticles and picking them nervously. What had been 2 months of silence had turned into sex which had turned into infidelity which had turned into guilt.

"How do you feel about Andrew?" He asked, laying his hands flat on the wooden counter and staring at me. I huffed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. I tutted and shrugged, biting the inside of my cheek as I thought of a response.

"I feel a lot about Andrew. I feel things about Andrew I haven't felt at all before- and that's... it's a lot." I grumbled, rubbing my temples slowly. He nodded knowingly, having been in many the complex relationships himself. Even Jess, his fiancé who was lovely, was more often than not away for business. Maybe James would have some tips about the whole long distance thing.

"Good ride?" He asked with a smirk, his eyes catching mine for a second. I scoffed at the inappropriate question before shrugging mischievously.

"The best."

"Better than Harry?" He asked like it wasn't the most inappropriate question for so early in the morning, still I answered.

"Yep." I popped the P as I logged onto our sale system, my mind foggy with replays of last night, his fingers between my thighs, his lips against my neck, his voice in my ears...

"Oh wow." James snickered from beside me. I glanced over and shrugged.

"Let's just say... The music doesn't do him justice but it gets pretty damn close." I responded. In a way James was right, he did have to be on my side and I, his, so whenever we found ourselves to be the villain in someone's story- we always had each other.

"Poor lad didn't stand a chance." He chuckled. I frowned, I didn't need to make jokes at his expense, the whole fucking someone else seemed like enough.

"So what now? Are you together? How does Andrew feel?" James began peppering questions at me as he carefully wrapped a few books in brown paper. They were the online orders from last night

"Read this." I mumbled, pulling the letter Andrew had left for me this morning, from my pocket and sliding it across the counter.

James brows raised as he read over the note.

"Oh so he's in love..." He chuckled, still reading the words carefully. I rolled my eyes and tutted but in reality the words made me jump- was he?

"Shut up."

———

The light in Harry's apartment always made things seem softer than they were. There was a yellow hue cast over his soft home, streaming in through his open blinds. We'd been together for about two months, I tried to remind myself the relationship was still early and that even though I did the wrong thing, telling him and ending this was the only right answer now.

I called him over my break and we'd agreed to meet at his place after work to talk some things over. I'd liked this plan, it meant I could leave when I needed to- it meant I could run if need be.

He had opened the door quietly and carefully let me in, both of us were aware of a tension growing tighter and tighter between us.

He glanced at me, scratching the back of his neck, standing as still as a post before deflating with a release of breath.

"I ehm... I need to tell you something." He eventually spoke, rippling the silence that had grown between us like moss. I nodded slowly, I too had something to tell him, though I'm sure mine was far worse.

"Me too." I responded, grateful as he smiled and awkwardly gestured toward the living room. He was right, this wasn't a standing up kind of conversation.

We moved like ghosts to the lounge and sat beside each other. The clear and barren inches of space between us said it all.

"I slept with someone else."

The words that were supposed to leave my mouth, had left his instead. I opened my mouth, unsurprised when nothing came out. A soft pain rippled in my gut, I knew it was hypocritical to be hurt when I'd done the same thing, but feelings rarely obeyed logic.

"Me too." I eventually managed, a bit of the weight on my shoulders lifting.

He stiffened slightly and then chuckled.

"Is it bad that, that actually makes me feel better?" He asked with an awkward smile. I coughed out a laugh and nodded, biting my lip. I hated how it still hurt to know he cheated, even though I had done the same.

"Who? When? Once?" I asked him, ignoring his prior comment. Him admitting his own unfaithfulness had made me feel less guilty, but I wasn't sure I could say it made me feel *better.*

"Ehm, Sinead, first time was a few weeks ago, we've slept together a few times since then." He answered honestly. I swallowed dryly for a moment, staring down at the caramel coloured carpet.

I laughed.

"Sinead, my friend, Sinead?" I asked him, slowly turning to look him in the eye. His teeth ground and he nodded. I laughed again.

"Christ- I've been fucken' tearing myself up about one night and you've been fucking one of my best friends for weeks." I chuckled, but I was hurt. Not by him per se, I cheated and so I couldn't really be upset by him doing the same (even though his was a repeated action, with my friend.) but I was upset with Sinead. I was upset Harry had lied to me for so long when I felt too bad to keep my infidelity from him for more than a day, I was upset he chose a particularly hurtful person to sleep with but Harry and I weren't that serious yet.

I was more upset that my friend didn't seem to have any loyalty toward me, and that she didn't even tell me herself.

"Don't act like what you did is any better." He responded with a grumble. I groaned quietly before standing up, my head somewhat spinning. There didn't seem any point in fighting now.

"Don't act like one night which I'm telling you about immediately is worse than you riding my friend behind my back for weeks?" I hummed, craning my neck to look down on him. His eyes caught mine sharply and he shook his head.

"Yeah but it wasn't one night was it? It was months of pining and obsession and curiosity that clearly has piqued with you guys finally fucking." He spat below his breath. I huffed, feeling my heart rate start to climb in response to the confrontation.

"Well? It was Andrew wasn't it? The guy you told me was just a friend?" The question hit me like a bullet. My eyes narrowed and I laughed.

"Yeah it was and I'm sorry you've clearly felt threatened by him for our entire relationship but evidently our relationship is now over so..."

"So what, you're not even going to say sorry?" He asked snarkily, eyeing me up and down. I laughed, audibly- this had been an unexpected outcome for us. I expected to leave feeling like the villain but it seems we were both the villain now.

"I was, I've been thinking about how to apologise and break up with you in as painless a way as possible for the entire day- you have been fucking my friend for weeks." I stressed defensively. I knew what I had done was wrong, but what he had done was no better and in fact absolutely worse.

"Right. Of course you're the victim then." He grumbled, leaning his head back against the couch. I scoffed and even though I knew our relationship was doomed from the second I kissed Andrew- I was disappointed. Harry was such a lovely man, he had been such a sweet boyfriend and yet he'd cheated on me with my friend and was now acting infuriatingly immature about it all.

"I'm not doing this Harry. I came here to break up with you. That's clearly happened. I'm leaving." I responded lazily, I didn't have the energy for this conversation. My past 24 hours had been an endless maze of confusion and somehow it had only gotten stranger.

"Fine. Go."

———

Andrew

The phrase "walking on air" was never one I put much thought into- until that day when even through a disgustingly long flight and days of jet lag were my only company- all I could do was grin.

I closed my eyes and each time I was greeted with a soft painting of Clodagh my mind had crafted. My brain and body were a fused mess, the animal in me yearned for her again, her skin on mine, her soft whimpers in my ear, her filthy words, her body's desperate release- but the more emotional side of me (still very much wanted to make love to her again, many, many, times) just wanted to be beside her, to count her breaths, hear her speak about anything.

After last night, the feelings I'd had for her had only multiplied. As the plane flew across a vast and impossible ocean, all I could think about was her. I imagined her still in my bed, her form buried in my blankets, her head on one of my pillows...

The work meant everything to me, it always had but God it had been hard to leave this morning. I'd been waiting years to sink my teeth into new work, to return to the studio and to actually work but I hated leaving her after this.

Despite the fact I was on a plane and my phone had long ago switched to airplane mode, I sporadically checked my inbox for any sign of her.

As expected, there was nothing but I was picturing the moment we touched down, I had service and there'd be a message waiting for me.

As an over thinker, the flight had been both fantastic and unbearable. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the memory of her over and over again but I was also itching to touch down and call her.

I needed to speak to her.

When I finally did land, my phone exploded with notifications, calls from producers I'd be working with, confirmation and instruction from my air bnb owner, texts from Ma and Dad, calls from Caroline- and nothing from her.

My heart dropped.

Maybe she'd woken up and decided this was all too much. Maybe she'd woken up and like the lovely person she is, felt too guilty to reach out after cheating on Harry.

Maybe she just didn't have as good as a time as i thought she had.

Either way, as I made my through the hot and humid city, from airport to Uber to my apartment for the next month- she still hadn't texted and I was undeniably worried.

———

It was 3pm when I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I'd gotten to my air bnb, showered, responded to a litany of emails and texts, fiddled with a melody that was niggling at me and after all that she still hadn't said a word. So I took it upon myself to call her,
I fell back into bed and FaceTimed her, despite the fact I looked like death warmed up.

She picked up the call almost instantly and my heart jumped just at the thought of seeing her. Her phone was propped on her desk in her bedroom, and she was looking at me with a gaze I couldn't identify. I was shocked by her beauty as I was every time I saw her. Her hair was shoved into a nest like bun on her head, her face was bare of any makeup, the lack of mascara only made her golden irises stand out more, though maybe that's because her eyes were a little red and her cheeks a little swollen. She was wearing an old striped jumper and as she tilted her head expectantly at me I realised she was waiting for me to say something.

"Hey, have you been crying?" Was as eloquent as I could manage. She practically snorted, rubbing her fingers below her eyes and nodding.

"Mm but I thought you'd be nice enough not to say anything." She sighed, leaning her face on her open hand.

"Miss me that much already?" I smirked, worried it wax perhaps the wrong thing to say but saying it anyway. She laughed through newly budding tears and nodded.

"I broke up with Harry." She said but the line was devoid of too much context. I knew she was upset but the confession admittedly made my heart hum. Did she break up with him so she could be with me?

"Oh. I'm sorry." I said, because I was. I was sorry that she was upset, I was sorry that it clearly hadn't been a very good day for her and I was sorry to see her cry- but I wasn't sorry that she was now single.

"It had to happen." She mumbled, looking away and pursing her lips. I worried she was starting to pull away. I'd hoped our night together would catapult us closer together, not further apart.

"Ehm, I mean if you weren't happy..." I responded tightly, unsure what to say here that wouldn't read as:
"Yeah sucks for Harry the poor lad but now I have you, so I couldn't care less."

"I couldn't be happy with someone I cheated on." She sighed, looking down at her cuticles and shrugging. I swallowed a lump on my throat and nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry." I said honestly, I hated seeing her deflated, I hated that I played a part in this entire scenarios. She smiled sweetly and shook her head.

"Don't be. He was fucking Sinead for the last month anyway." She chuckled toxically, clearly upset but trying not to look it. My stomach knotted at the news, I now had a justifiable hatred from Harry instead of my more possessive hatred of the guy.

"Sinead, your friend, Sinead?" I asked her slowly to which she chuckled again and nodded.

"That's exactly what I said- but yeah, was straight up fucking my friend behind my back anyway. So I guess I'm a little sad about that." She murmured, leaning her chin into the open nest of her palm. I nodded, biting my lip before I shook my head.

"I hate him." I responded honestly, watching as she smiled but then frowned.

"I mean I can't hate him too much when I also cheated- but my friend?" She mumbled, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip before she shook her head and cleared her throat.

"Anyway, I don't want to talk about it really, how was your flight?" She asked me genuinely. I smiled and nodded.

"It was okay, I was disappointed you didn't text me." I confessed, even though it made me sound a little pathetic. She hummed and looked at me seriously.

"Yeah, well I'm angry wit' you." She revealed, raising an eyebrow at me. My stomach stirred, unsure if she was serious or not. My concern worried me, her view of me was quickly informing my view of myself.

"Why?" I asked, trying not to sound desperate.

"Because you made everything complicated, we had mind blowing sex for hours, we confessed all these confusing feelings and now you're on the other side of the world and it just- it feels almost like it didn't even happen." Her words were soft but true, I pursed my lips as I watched her speak, enamoured with her face and her voice and her eyes and mostly everything about her.

"I know, it was all apart of my big plan." I smirked playfully at her, watching her prick up and tilt her head to the side.

"Oh?" She questioned.

"Mm, I draw you in with all my complicated feelings and the mind blowing sex and that way you'll come and visit me soon?" I teased, watching a smile crack over her face as she then rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, it might be nice to get away and I-" She began before pursing her lips and sighing loudly.

"Youuu?" I replied, urging her to continue.

"I miss you already. Like a lot. Feels like we should be able to do that every day." She mumbled, looking down at her desk, her long fingers drumming against the wood.

There was that warm feeling again, like my skin was sizzling and my stomach was warm.

"We can do it everyday when you come and see me, tell me you'll come and see me Clodagh."

Notes:

I didn’t proof read whoops but things are getting more serious soon….

Drop a comment x

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Notes:

Hello everyone! Board exams are over and I’m back, the updates will be more regular from now on. Enjoy!

Clodagh

"Check your inbox."

God he asked a lot of me, that stupid, attractive, annoying man.

I groaned at Andrew’s ever smug voice, at his silly demands- but it didn't change the fact that just the sound of it made my stomach warm. We'd called everyday since he'd been gone, 7 now, a whole week since I'd been in his bed...

It somehow felt like a day and a lifetime had passed since then.

I looked at my phone as it laid screen up on my kitchen bench, his voice spilling out of it, as I frowned.

"I am falling apart and the group is fucked and I'm so drunk my head is like falling off and you want me to open my laptop?" I whined, squeezing my eyes shut a moment. I hadn't been this drunk in a long time, I could barely remember the evening and it was only midnight.

Mari forced me to go to Thursday night drinks, I got drunk, Leo had asked why things were tense between Sinead and I, she had said that I was clearly just in a bad mood, I then told everyone that she slept with Harry.

Things understandably had gone downhill from there.

I hadn't wanted to go out because I knew that this would happen, I didn't want to cause a rift in the group, I didn't want to have been cheated on- and I didn't want to be so far away from the man I thought about all day and yet as he sat on the other side of the world, talking to me through a brick- I was being difficult.

"You can check an email." He assured me firmly but kindly. In fact, he was being far more patient than I would be if the tables were turned. He had called me around 11 (because he missed me, which was sweet) at which point I was stumbling around the bar mindlessly, trying to figure out how to call my brother. Somehow, even in an entirely different continent, Andrew had managed to call me a ride home.

Now, I was stumbling about my apartment, listening to him ask me to check my emails.

"I- I don't even know where my laptop is- oh hello baby! Hello my baby girl, were you sleeping? Oh no! Did I wake you up baby? It's okay Honey, it's okay." I interrupted myself as my sleepy little dog toddled into the kitchen. Her eyes were heavy and squinted, clearly wondering why there was such a commotion at a time of evening she was supposed to be curled up on the end of my bed.

"Tell Honey I say hi and then check your email, please." Andy sighed over the phone, clearly clocking that my sweet cooing was not directed at him.

"I- which email of mine do you have? I gave you the store one? No- I gave you my personal email- what even is my personal email? Ehmm... Fuck, I can't remember. Why are you even emailing me? I probably gave you the store one but then again-"

"Clodagh, birdy, please. Stay with me, I know there's a fraction of you sober enough to complete this arduous task. I emailed your personal account."

I paused, the timbre of his voice, the gravity it held, the twinge of desperation as he uttered my name- it was all very convincing.

"Sorry baby, I can't hold my liquor- but you know this. I think- do I have the outlook app?" I hummed to myself as I picked up my phone, almost certain that I could check my personal emails on there instead of my laptop.

"The email you gave me is a Gmail." He sighed but this time he was almost laughing.

"Okay okay, Gmail, easy easy, let me just open up the app- sorry I actually have so many emails, I make new ones because spam you know? And then like I end up signing up to a bunch of spammy shit with them anyway- okay I don't have anything from you, just a scam email from a woman named Caroline who has let's see... bought me plane tickets? Fuck... I'm being attemptedly human trafficked pretty sure." I drawled drunkenly as I squinted at my phone, it was barely bright enough to read but I didn't have enough sober neurones to turn my brightness up.

Andrew laughed audibly, so much so I jumped, his voice was far louder when the speaker was by my face.

"Caroline is my manager, and I gave the word, so technically I'm the trafficker." He laughed softly over the phone, if the line hadn't sputtered I would have been certain he was right here. It wasn't lost on me just how much I wished he was- right. there.

"At least James will know who I was kidnapped by when I don't return, I s'pose." I slurred, stumbling slightly and gripping the edge of my kitchen counter.

A memory from the last time I saw him crashed into me, when the wine had turned to poison and we were stumbling inside, I was about to trip on the lip of the back door - his hand found my hip, fingers pressing like iron, we hadn't even kissed yet but the touch had stayed with me... I could still feel the thudding of my heart, the electric pulse that had seemed to spew from his fingers that evening.

My mind was slowly unwound from its distraction when I heard his throat clear and my focus was suddenly pulled back to the tempting email.

"Andyyyy." I drawled slowly and drunkenly as the realisation dawned on me. I'd been thinking about him like a bird thinks of the wind, obsessively and constantly- and he really wanted to see me, enough to buy me plane tickets across the world.

"Clodaghhhh." He responded, mocking my intoxicated whine. I scoffed, rolling my eyes, preparing some kind of a quip, when I looked again at the email. Each time I read it my vodka soaked brain absorbed a little more.

"Jesus Andrew! First class?" I asked, examining the email for all the details. The flight to LA was due to leave in 4 days, the return flight didn't have a date at all...

"Yes."

"Well that's- like- I mean- like economy would've been fine, and why no return date? That is very "trafficky" Andrew." I frowned, pursing my lips and trying to contain a smile, he really wanted to see me, enough to spend thousands just to get me there- enough to spend an extra God knows how much to make sure I was comfortable.

"I just wanted you to be able to choose when you'd like to come home." He said, a smile apparent in his voice. I chewed the inside of my cheek and tilted my head.

"Ah so when I get there ye' gonna convince me to stay forever?" I joked, my head still light and airy from all the alcohol.

"Yes, I'm planning on bribing you to stay as long as possible." He responded, half sigh, half chuckle. My cheeks warmed at the sound and I rolled my eyes.

"Aww you miss me."

"I do. You gave me the best lay of my life and then immediately after I had to leave." He groaned, annoyed, lustful, wanting- I rarely got to hear his voice like this, the low sound of an undeniable want on his breath.

- Best. Lay. Of. His. Life.-

"I am certain an attractive guy like you could catch a ride somewhere there, a nice LA girl who does yoga and doesn't eat carbs and doesn't drink beer and meditates on the beach." I joked quietly, pretending that theorising about him sleeping with someone didn't feel like being shot. We weren't exclusive, we weren't even together- I had not idea what we were and yet the thought of him doing what we had done, with someone else- made my stomach churn.

"There's only one person I want to sleep with." He responded so quickly he cut off the last word of my sentence. I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip.

"Who?" I asked, I knew- or at least I hoped the answer was me, and so the question was beyond self indulgent.

"Oh just this girl from home, can't stop thinking about her, I bought her flights, first class right? And she's still being difficult about coming to see me." He mused as I gripped at the edge of my kitchen counter, swaying and blushing, drunk and drowning in the soft tingling of desire.

"Sounds like a bitch."

"I wish, maybe that'd be easier but she's actually lovely." He confessed with a nervous laugh, I closed my eyes a moment and smiled.

“Ah is she then?” I asked, my teeth sinking into my lip.

He chuckled.

“She is, she’s unconditionally kind and understanding and she’s hilarious and smart- and don’t tell her I said this- but she’s also incredibly beautiful.”

I blushed and smiled, shaking my head- glad I wasn’t visible to him.
This felt so easy, and somehow that's what made it hard.

"Ah, I see. I hear she’s visiting though, so at least you only have to wait four days to see her."

———

I could feel my body begging to shut down, my muscles burning with protest, lungs gasping for air, eyes aching at the glare of the morning, stomach grumbling with nausea- and yet as I looked ahead all I could see was the tall athletic figure of my brother moving forward with machine like ability.

"Please- Jesus- James ye' killing us- you promised this wouldn't be a long one." I complained, looking down at Honey who was sitting at my feet, panting happily with her pink tongue flailing out the side of her mouth. Despite how disgustingly hungover I was, how wrecked my body was after a night of drinking and drama, James had convinced me to join him on a morning walk.

"Us? It's your hungover arse that's ruining the hike." He scoffed, facing me with his hands clamped over his hips. I groaned, shaking my head vehemently as my lungs contracted to chase my breath.

"Well- you- didn't- actually- say- it was a- hike." I breathed, half keeled over as a cold breeze swam over us, making cool the warm sweat on my skin.

I squinted as my neck craned to look at him, his feet were planted on a piece smooth grey stone that erupted from the lush green around it.

"Do you want to go and get breakfast?" He asked defeatedly and though I could tell there was hope in his voice, I nodded.

"Yes- yep. God I'm so glad it's my day off." I huffed as I kicked at loose rocks by my feet, they scuffed the edges of my sneakers, leaving brown flecks on the white foamy soles. An unimpressed noise slide from his mouth but it was promptly followed by a defeated sigh and a hop from the stone back toward me.

"How was last night?" He asked, silently agreeing to start walking back to the car. The walk would have been difficult at 100% and so hungover it had been hell but I was still glad I went.

Andrew's phone call was ringing in my ears, Andrew's everything was ringing in my ears. I had thought about him before I fell asleep and I had thought about him when I woke up and then I had thought about him for every moment until I was thrust into this God awful walk.

"Well I didn't want to go to Thursday night drinks for obvious reasons but like the feckin' doormat I am, I let Mari convince me..." I began, my voice a dull mix of exhaustion, regret, hangxiety and embarrassment. I heard the rocks beneath James's feet skitter as he glanced at me, knowing the end of this story couldn't be good.

"And everything went really well and you're all still friends?" He asked with hope he knew was wasted. I cocked a brow at him and got the expression mirrored back to me.

"Yep, exactly!" I responded with a thrilled smile before I began to speak again.

"Except instead of it going really well I got really drunk and instead of us all being friends, when Sinead said I seemed to be in a bad mood, I told everyone she slept with Harry and then after a good chunk of yelling, I left." I groaned, remembering the awful nature of the night.

"How'd you get home?" James asked, I assume because he was usually the one I got to take me home after a night out. The question bloomed a lump in my throat and for some reason each time I spoke about him it felt like I was about to have an allergic reaction.

"Ehm... Andrew's driver actually." I responded, unsure what James would think of such a statement. I kept my head down, looking at Honey's soft grey back as she trotted down the hill beside me.

"Andrew the lad in another continent, at present?" He asked, his voice slow with both confusion and anticipation. I swallowed dryly and nodded a few times.

"Yep... He uh called while I was still at the bar, ended up ringing his driver because I was kind of ehm- legless." I retold, chuckling softly at the memory. My stomach stirred just thinking about the small act of care, the small act of seeing that I needed help, and getting me home and into bed from across the world.

The morning air was crisp enough to refresh me, to cool my lungs with each inhale, but nothing seemed strong enough to pull my focus from thinking about Andy.

I'd be seeing him in 3 days.

"Jesus... How do you manage that?" James chuckled as we descended down a hill I couldn't believe I'd somehow managed to ascend.

"Manage what? We're getting coffee after this right?" I asked two, unrelated questions. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, his head shaking ever so slightly.

"There just always seems to be some innocent man hanging around who's fallen irrevocably in love with me, and yeah if you want."

"Well I don't want to go if you don't want to go." I responded, ignoring his comment about innocent men. I didn't control anyone but myself. James scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Okay so firstly, you're avoiding the main point, secondly- I just said we can go get coffee." He groaned, pointing at me accusatory. I tutted and shoved his hand away, tromping down the hill.

"The main point was shite- and like yeah you said we could go if I wanted to, that's so unenthusiastic." I complained, wondering how I was going to tell him I was about to leave for a week or so.

"Yes Clodagh! Let's get coffee! A coffee would satiate every want in my body, in fact getting coffee with you would maybe solve world peace-"

"Oh fuck you, you're just jealous because my life is more exciting than yours right now." I grumbled, grateful to see the car still in sight. I heard James click his teeth and I knew he was scowling but I didn't give him the satisfaction of checking.

"Yeah well- maybe I am. I haven't seen Fiona in too damn long and fuck it, I miss her and you're having this weird situationship with a famous guy and all my friends are in relationships... it's just, ugh I don't know." He sighed and suddenly I was feeling guilty. I chewed on my bottom lip and glanced at him. I hadn't really considered how he'd been feeling lately, all the stuff he had going on. For once, my own personal world had been so chaotic I had grown a little selfish.

"Yeah that is shit. When is Fiona due back?" I asked him, his fiancé seemed to be on a perpetual business trip. I often wondered how James managed it, being so far away from her, so much of the time. Now, I was considering entering something (the label relationship was still scary) with a man who would cyclically leave me to travel the world.

"A month, then she's home until next year." He sighed, I could tell he was both excited and exhausted. She would be back, but she would leave again. I liked Fiona, but I'd be lying if I said on occasion I wondered if someone more proximal would be better for him.

"How's wedding planning going?" I asked, scuffing my shoes as I kicked along the rocky, dirty ground, avoiding all the bushels of verdant moss that peeked from cracks in the stone.

"It's going, you still down to be my best man?" He asked hopefully as if I'd plan over the event.

"Nah sorry, I have something better than supporting my twin brother on his wedding on that day." I smiled, glancing over at him, watching a smirk crawl across his lips and his eyes roll.

"Grand, was actually thinking of replacing you so works well." He responded with lighthearted sarcasm. I nodded and let out a soft hum.

"What aren't you telling me?" He suddenly asked, his head snapping to face me. My stomach twisted, twin telepathy was bullshit (trust me, we've tried,) but while he couldn't read my thoughts, he could read every minute element of my body language, and somehow that was worse.

"Oh uh- I need to ask if I can take some time off." I said awkwardly. I wanted to tell him my trip to see Andrew, and I would but I was nervous. I knew the situation I found myself in was strange and fast and maybe poorly thought out...

"When?" He asked, brows furrowed in understandable confusion. I picked at my nails as I felt a slow, expanding bubble begin to bloom in my chest. For some reason, Andrew- as a man, a concept, a celebrity... Made me incredibly anxious, up close he exuded calm, but now, thinking of him, thinking of us... made me queasy.

"Mm in like four days." I hummed, my eyes focused on the rocky ground. I'd taken many a tumble down this hill throughout my life.

"Didn't take you long to visit him." The words made me freeze and I coughed awkwardly. Once again he demonstrated his eerie observation abilities.

"He already bought the ticket." I shrugged, my voice reduced to a mumble. James let out a slow, contemplative hum.

"That's... intense?" He finally responded. I swallowed a lump that had grown in the apex of my throat and shrugged.

"I thought it was sweet, first class and everything."

"Jesus- I forget the guy must be loaded, where are ye' staying?" He asked and though I was trying to identify his underlying tone, he sounded almost excited.

"Ehm just his airbnb, it's in the hills I think." I smiled, trying to not come across as excited as I was. James sighed ridiculously loudly from beside me.

"Fuckk. Of course you can take time off. I'm just like- I dunno... jealous? How long will you be gone for?" He asked, now smiling at me. The sun made his inky hair glow.

"A week? Two?" I suggested, I'd never been on a trip without a return date. I wasn't sure what James would think of the arrangement, I wasn't sure I cared. He blew out an exhale, half laugh, half breath.

"At least I'll know who you're with if you get trafficked don't come home." He chuckled. My mouth curled into a grin, I knew the dig was merely thinly veiled approval.

"That's what I said!"

—
Andrew

It was 2 in the afternoon and heat clung to everything the way cigarette smoke clings to wallpaper. I was returning home after an afternoon walk, I could feel the moisture of my own sweat beading on my skin and that kind of warmth that can only be compared to a long hug from someone you don't like.

Traffic was a religion here, people choked every inch of the city and most of them were insufferable, but the work was good, the producers were next level-

And Clodagh was coming.

I let the thought softly flip flop around my skull as I considered it, the fact that she would be here, and in less than 48 hours...

My heart was pumping persistently as I returned to the airbnb I'd be calling home for around a month. The heat and the movement had proved challenging and as I made my way inside all I wanted to do was check my phone, and shower.

I'd been trying to distract myself all day, going for coffee, to the studio, on a walk far too long for the weather- Clodagh's visit was hanging over me like a lead blanket, leaving me unable to take a full breath before I could see her.

My phone buzzed against my thigh, pressed in the tight cocoon of the pocket of my jeans. I pulled it out to see Clodagh's contact name lighting my screen.

"Clo." The nickname fell from my lips like sand through an hourglass. I immediately placed her on speaker, laying my phone on the counter and staring at it as if it were actually her.

"You sound surprised." She hummed, almost amused. Her soft Irish accent was like a breath of fresh air.

"I usually do when it's you." I blurted before immediately clenching my jaw and shaking my head.
"Ehm- good surprise though, you know." I soon added, though it didn’t really save me. She chuckled into the line.

 

“Mm, well I’m just calling to check in, you know… make sure you haven’t forgotten about me.” I could hear the smooth lilt of a smile in her voice. I followed suit, my lips curling into a smirk.

“I could never forget about you. How are you?” I asked, listening to her soft sigh on the other end of the line.

“I’m well, James took me out for lunch. I just finished packing. I think tomorrow will be the longest flight I’ve ever been on- d’ye have any tips?” She asked, I listened to the rise and fall of her voice, how each emphasis sounded as it rolled off her tongue.

“Make yourself as comfortable as possible and accept all the free champagne.” I responded, chewing the inside of my cheek. God, just a casual conversation with her and I was smiling so hard my face ached.

“Wow free champagne? How the other half live.” She gasped exaggeratedly. I laughed softly through my teeth and nodded.

I was glad I was alone and no one was there to see me leaning against the counter, elbows propped in the surface as I cradled my cheek in my hand and swooned at a woman who wasn’t even mine- yet.

“Oh yeah I’m a big deal, didn’t you know?” I asked her, grinning mischievously. She paused and I knew she was rolling her eyes.

“Ah sure like I’ve heard a song or two. They’re not too bad.” She replied lazily, the words melting in her mouth.

“You’re too kind, birdy.” I sighed, biting my lip as I listened to her hum sweetly in response.

“An angel, I know. So what’s the go tomorrow? Will you pick me up from the airport?” She asked, her voice sweet and melodic, she filled each of my senses like a drug.

The air in the room shifted in response to her question and the air in my throat caught a little. I stared out the windows at the labyrinth of palm trees and smog.

“I ehm- I probably shouldn’t, a photo of me here ended up on Twitter and yeah you know just like fans and uh paparazzi.” I responded awkwardly, scrunching my eyes shut. I felt terrible but I’d learnt quickly in this career that nothing was worse for brand new relationships (not that I could even call we had a relationship yet,) than being bombarded with cameras and fans and questions together.

“Oh.” She said lightly, perhaps too lightly. I opened my mouth to say something but she continued.

“Yeah no obviously that makes sense.” She responded, and I got the feeling she was embarrassed she’d asked.

“But I’ve got a car booked, and the place is clean, the fridge is full of things I thought you might like, we can obviously get anything you like need or want or whatever really- ehm the city is our oyster.”

Oh yeah Andy, tell the woman you just told you can’t even pick her up from the airport that the trip was free and boundless, that the city was our oyster…

She laughed, this time warmly and no doubt with a smile that stop me dead in my tracks.

“It sounds great Andy, really. What are we doing first?” She asked with a bright, excited voice. It made my chest tighten with suffocating hope to hear her enthusiasm.

“Whatever you like- Oh, or I can plan something if you’d prefer?” I asked, as awkward as ever. Should I have planned something? An itinerary as such?

“No- no. Let’s just feel it out. I want one day though.” She reassured me before making her wants known.

“You want a day?”

“Mm. One day on this trip that you’ve planned, from breakfast to dinner- dessert inclusive. If the city is our oyster I expect you’ll find us something special.” She proposed, her voice a little darker but softer, like velvet, or smoke. I immediately started glancing around for my laptop. Her words were like fuel, she wanted a day? Then I’d plan the best day of her life.

Anything to make her want me.

“I expect I will.” I smiled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“Good. I’ll see you soon, Andrew.” She voiced quietly but certainly. I let a soft chuckle escape in a puff of air from my nostrils before glancing at the clock.

“39 hours.” I responded.

To this, she giggled.

“Not that ye’ counting or anything.”

Notes:

I have a feeling you guys will really. really. like next chapter, and so, I’m sorry I was gone, let me know what you thought and I will see you next week.

💖💖

Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Notes:

oops made this way too long and didn’t really mean to make Andrew so obsessive but here you gin

Clodagh

Somehow, among the flurry of things I had to worry about when preparing for this trip- the heat wasn’t one of them.

Egypt was known for its warmth, but as I stepped from the plane, officially in LA- I felt like I'd been swallowed whole. As if I was wading through steam rather than air.

I'd never been to the US before, but my initial few seconds in the country had been defined by that inescapable heat. The air conditioning in the plane had been too cold, as it always was, and so the transition to the outside air (that smelled like a strange amalgamation of smoke, dust, and food) felt like being in a hot tub for too long.

I could feel sweat beading on my forehead as I slowly walked down to the tarmac and I was certain the patch of skin on my chest being smothered by the thick strap of my carry on bag was already slick.

It was in this moment that I found myself grateful that Andrew wasn't picking me up from the airport. We had been friends before we were- whatever we were, but I still wasn't thrilled about the idea of him seeing me plane wrinkled and sweating from every visible pore.

At the thought of him, a soft prickling, like the fizzing of a dissolvable tablet, was spreading over me. I was in a country I'd never been to, in luxury I couldn't afford, with a man I was impossibly drawn to. It all seemed too good to be true.

In a surprise to no one, the airport was an arduous, drawn out process that only seemed to add to my post flight fatigue. My baggage was last to roll across the carousel and the airport was mammoth and labyrinthine, but soon I escaped the panic of the building, back into the choking heat of the afternoon.

Andrew had given very explicit instructions on where to find the driver who would take me to his airbnb; and so I made my way behind the building my terminal had been in. What met me was a thin paved road and a black Range Rover waiting exactly where he said it would be.

I smiled at how convenient everything had been and hoisted my suitcase into my arms so I could put it in the trunk. I blew away the locks of my own hair that had fallen across my vision when I heard the driver door open.

Shaking my head slightly to rid myself of my ever inconvenient amount of hair, my stomach dropped into my feet at the sight of a pair of twinkly green eyes.

"Felt bad not picking you up myself."

I looked at Andrew who had materialised like an apparition and paused. He was noticeably tanner than when I'd seen him last and the way his sunglasses sat perched on his nose made my mouth water slightly.

Raybans, the rockstar's go-to.

As I looked at him, his impossibly tall frame, chestnut brown curls, soft smile, veiny hands...

I realised I should probably respond.

"That's so sweet." I chuckled honestly, smiling as he lifted my suitcase out of my arms and into the trunk with far less effort than I'd have had to exert. My eyes lingered on the way his fingers were wrapped around the opening of the boot, slowly trailing to his eyes which were unabashed in their staring.

He looked me up and down as if in a museum, questioning, examining, searching. I cleared my throat as self consciousness started to bloom between my ribs. I'd looked far nicer the last time he saw me.

Greasy hair, an old men’s t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts I'd owned for years wasn't exactly what I'd have chosen to meet him in.

"Ehm, yeah sorry- I'm all gross from the plane." I said awkwardly to excuse my disheveled appearance. His face scrunched into a confused grimace for a moment before he shook his head.

"You look beautiful.” He said seriously and so quickly it was as if on instinct. The compliment felt like a shot, shocking, burning, exciting. I licked my lips and tried to find some words.

In the brief silence that passed, his brows jumped and he cleared his throat.

“Long flights always leave me leaving feeling a corpse warmed up. You will love the shower at this place. It's fucken' class." He chuckled diverging quickly, gliding around to open the passenger door for me. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip, I hated how such a small action could make my stomach so warm.

I sighed softly as I slid onto the smooth leather seats, the vents blasting my face with cool air.

"God it's so hot." I whispered, closing my eyes as I listened to him open his door and take his place beside me.

"I know, by the end of my time here my skin will just be like- permanently blistering." He responded, my eyes still closed and my ears honing in on the deep rumble of his voice and the click of the indicator.

I chuckled softly, but tiredly, opening my eyes and letting myself look over at him as he pulled onto the road.

"Hi." I smiled embarrassedly at him. I was fighting a smile, something dopey and adoring as I really took him in.

He picked me up himself.

His head tilted and he smiled confusedly but so endearingly.

"Ehm hi?" He chuckled, his eyes big and green and staring at me in a way that made words impossible to form. I could only seem to breathe once he focused back on the road.

I told myself I would play it cool, not stare but when he was right beside me, in such close vicinity, it was impossible not to look at him. One of his long arms rested lazily on the steering wheel, his now tanned skin practically glowed. His hair was pulled back, which for some reason disappointed me, then again it also gave me a better view of his face, his neck-

His jaw carried a week or so of stubble, the kind that felt more intimate than clean shaven could, as if he'd rolled right out bed into my orbit. And then his mouth, God, his mouth, curved with a smirk that always appeared to be teasing a secret, I could almost feel them again, on my lips, my body- last time I'd seen him he'd promised to put them to work between my hips...

But we never did get around to it.

Every moment in the car felt weighted, my chest tightened at the way his forearm flexed when he shifted gears, veins popping like a map I wanted to trail with my tongue...

Fuck. Respond. Quick.

"We didn't- I didn't get to like actually- ehm yeah say hello- and thanks, obviously, thank you so much."

Smooth.

He chuckled, his brows knitting for a moment. I watched him quickly calculate as we fell into gluggy traffic, how long he could spend looking away from the road, and then he was looking right at me.

"You're right, I should've greeted you properly." He whispered, his eyes were absolutely verdant against his new, soft tan. I could feel my hands curling into fists by my sides as his gaze fell to my lips.

I'd forgotten how intense it was just to be near him. Especially now, after we'd given into the less logical side and all I could think about was the fact I'd seen him naked, the fact he'd seen me naked...

My heartbeat echoed like an ocean and just before I could tilt my head close enough to meet him, we were stunned by a loud, continual honk.

The light was green.

Andrew cleared his throat as he fell back into driving, but the soft pink flush traveling up his marble neck and the flustered smirk on his face didn't go unnoticed.

"You're going to get us in a car accident." He chastised, his eyes rolling to look at me before he looked back at the road.

"Me? Yeah? How?" I asked, wanting to hear him verbalise the tension between us, to hear him explain why the air in the car seemed to be electrified.

Disappointingly, he just rolled his eyes.

"How was the flight?" He asked curiously, his fingers now tapping absentmindedly against the steering wheel.

"Grand, I mean literally grand. My seat was bigger than my first apartment, the food was good, the champagne was even better, I am fucking knackered though I don't know how you do it." I confessed, watching through the windscreen at the unfamiliar landscape. Ireland was all green, so far the US had been a warm orange.

"You kind of get used to it. Have you been jet lagged before? Have you traveled much?" He asked curiously as we turned down a rocky lane.

"No where near as much as you, and no, I don't think I have but if it feels like exhaustion and a headache, I am definitely having that experience as we speak." I groaned, rubbing my temples as the slow creep of what I imagined was said jet lag, began to weigh on me.

"That is it. Don't panic though, I have ice water and green tea and ibuprofen and the most peaceful house ever built, you'll feel better after you hydrate and sleep." He explained, though I was half distracted by the street we found ourselves on. It was perched on the side of the mountain and populated with houses I could never dream of buying.

"You don't like green tea." I noticed absently. He took his tea with a dash of milk and no sugar, occasionally honey, if he was drinking from a thermos, he took it black. He'd told me many times before that he thought green tea was comparable to swamp water.

"Mm hate it, but you don't." He half explained as the car slowed up a windy road lined with bright flowers and plants you only see in warm places and houses you only see in rich ones. The sentence seeped into me slowly, moving warmly into a smile I couldn't help.

"Ah, you're sweet. I forget." I mused, my eyes now constantly battling between looking at him and looking out at the house he was pulling into the driveway of. It was nestled on the side of the mountain, hidden in a village of tropical green trees and dinner plate sized flowers.

"I'm usually a bit of a prick but I have my moments." He chuckled but I was too distracted by the home. It was a modern build with wooden accents and windows that took up the majority of the walls. The exterior was floored with rock and fenced with glass, there was a glistening pool below the deck that wrapped itself around the property, I had to manually keep my mouth closed.

"I- holy shit this is lux." I breathed, watching Andrew chuckle from beside me and nod.

"I like being surrounded by nature." He commented, making me roll my eyes and hum.

"And ostentatious displays of wealth?" I asked half saltily, referring to the luxury cars and boats and houses that littered the area.

"I'm trying to impress you." He grinned before getting out the car with such fluidity it didn't seem human. I bit back a smile that was teasing my cheeks and shrugged. By the time I’d gotten out of the car he already had my suitcase and was waiting for me.

I looked at him for a moment, his raybans sitting atop his head, his lithe form leaning casually as he waited.

What had I gotten myself into?

"Well you better let me inside I guess." I responded, flicking my hair back out of my face and smiling up at him. He bit his lip and nodded.

"That I can do." He hummed as he unlocked the door, pushing it open to let me inside first. I tried not to be obviously shocked by the luxury of the place, the sprawling stone floors, the soft, bright interior, the view over the mountain and the city that was seemingly designed to take your breath away...

"Wow... Thank you so much for having me." I whispered, listening to him walk in behind me. I could hear my suitcase jump slightly as I rolled it over the textured floor and I could feel him slowly moving closer.

"Thanks for coming, I know it's a long way." He said in that sweet, earnest voice as his arms made their way around my body, he squeezed me tightly and rested his prickly chin on my shoulder.

I hoped he couldn't feel my pulse immediately begin to race but it always did when we got close, especially when we were so close I could feel every ounce of his warmth and especially since the last time we’d been this close we were naked.

His arms didn't just wrap around me, they had enveloped me slowly, as if he were giving me a chance to run. I didn't want to run. I didn't want to be anywhere else.

I was hyper aware of every sensation in my body, the warmth of his form even through his shirt and mine and the weight of him pressed against me, anchoring me to his firm chest. I closed my eyes and let my hands fall over his. My skin tingled where his warmth breath spilled over me, the rasp of his stubble tickling my neck with every inhale. I could myself growing wobbly headed at the sensation.

God and his smell- impossibly familiar, clean and fresh but with an underlying spice that made my heart skip. It's the kind of scent that makes you lean in.

"It is a long way. I'm wrecked." I smiled, though I would take this moment of jet lagged peace any day. He squeezed a little tighter, hummed in acknowledgment and then let me go. His body parted from mine and my chest instantly tightened.

"C'mon, shower, nap, I'll still be here." He murmured, grabbing the handle of my suitcase again and looking back at me welcomingly. His eyes shimmered in the brightness of the room, almost reflecting my own dopey stare back at me. I didn't want to shower and nap, I wanted to be with him- but I could also feel my body growing heavy with exhaustion and malaise.

"Fine..." I drawled, following him up a few steps and into a bright airy hallway, my eyes were glued to the beautiful greenery that surrounded the home, singing to us from through the window.

"This one's yours." Andrew murmured as he pushed open a white door. The cool air enveloped me like a glass of water after a marathon, soothing my travel flushed skin and my budding headache.

I shifted uncomfortably at the realisation the room was mine, and not ours.

It looked like something that was supposed to be in architectural digest. The polished concrete floor was softened with a Persian rug and a bed so big it looked like it was built for an entire family. I couldn’t fathom sleeping in it alone while he was just a few doors away.

I focused out the windows for a moment, they took up the entirety of the southern wall and offered so much of the city to me- all grey and glass and bordered with verdant plants that looked as though their plan was to swallow the house, gradually creeping forward over years.

"Oh." I responded softly, the only word that seemed like it would encapsulate everything I was feeling.

"Bathroom's just there." He pointed from beside me. I wandered over, to have a look or maybe just get some distance, it was stunning. The shower was the size of my house and I could tell the water pressure was going to be unmatchable, my eyes glazed over the vanity the was backdropped by windows showcasing even more of the beautiful view.

"Wow." I breathed to myself, examining bottles of products that lined the vanity that had a value that would probably eclipse my net worth.

Andrew leaned in the opening of the doorway, not looking away from me but not quite looking at me either.

"Figured you'd want your own space, to uh get settled like. Have some peace." I walked past him, making sure our bodies brushed against each other lightly as I returned to the bedroom.

"Right." The word tasted strange as I said it.

He'd figured wrong. I was under the impression we'd be sleeping in the same room- the same bed. I tried not to feel such disappointment at the reality.

His eyes flickered an ambiguous emotion, confusion, regret maybe? But it passed with a small forced smile.

"I'll be in my room, just down the hall if you need anything." He responded politely, too politely.

I nodded though my chest felt instantly tight and I was suddenly questioning if meeting him here was the right choice.

I hadn't thought I'd be in my own room, metres but really miles away from him. It felt removing, like I was a guest... The worst part was, I was a guest, he wasn't my boyfriend, he was barely even a friend at this point- so much had transpired between us that we lingered somewhere cold between lover and friend.

"Alright." I responded, looking around at would be my room and not our room and wondering how I ended up as a flatmate instead of a-

Well that was the question I suppose, what did I want to be on this trip? What did I want to be in relation to him?

He lingered in the doorway now, looking right at me. I stayed quiet as he paused, stepping back as if he were about to say something else.

But then he swallowed and gave me that polite, empty smile again.

"Get some rest, Clo." He said.

And then he closed the door, and he was suddenly gone.

I was slow in unzipping my suitcase, analysing every second of the conversation we'd just had while I unpacked. My brain felt like cotton from the flight and the heat but below all the fuzz was something niggling and unshakable.

Once I'd found my toiletry bag and something cool to sleep in, I trudged into the ensuite, still feeling after shock of that awful interaction, all awkwardness and passive compulsion.

As I turned the shower on, letting steam fill the room and my clothes drop to the floor, I tried to fight against the urge to over think.

The water was perfect, cool enough not to refresh but warm enough to loosen up my muscles. I let it run over me for a few quiet moments, seeping around each strand of hair, crawling over my back and my legs.

I closed my eyes and began counting my breaths, I got to 5 before the thought forced its way in.

Why the separate room?

I was aware of how aggressively I began to lather shampoo into my hair, staring at the dark tile of the shower.

Maybe he just wanted privacy.
Maybe it wasn't that deep.

Still, I'd taken time off work, I'd flown across the world for him and while it felt like months since we'd touched, since we'd really seen each other- it had been a matter of weeks.

I wasn't expecting to just fall into bed with him, I'd even anticipated a little awkwardness but I didn't expect to be tucked away in a guest room like the family member you loathe at Christmas.

My mind raced as I rinsed and then conditioned my hair, pressing my palms against the wall as I processed. It was probably immature to feel slighted, childish even, and logically I knew the post flight grogginess didn’t help but the more I thought about it all, the angrier I got.

By the time my hair and body were clean, my earlier confusion had simmered into something sharper, something that needed a resolution.

It probably wasn't logical but I had known that most logic had left while I quickly towel dried myself and pulled on some clothes, a little cotton slip that was white but had grown thin from years of washing. It was the most comfortable thing I owned but it was only ever warm enough to wear during the Summer. Its spaghetti straps and the hem that teased high on my thighs weren't wearable for most of the Irish year.

And so soon I was dressed, all but dry and a few strides away from the ever infuriating man...

 

Andrew,

My head was in my hands by the time I closed my bedroom door.

Great. Grand. Brilliant, that had been exactly the warm welcome I'd been obsessing over for weeks.

I stood in my room, hands shoved into my pockets, the feeling of being so close to her was suffocating, the feeling of upsetting her was worse. I ran my tongue over the ridges of my molars, sucking in a deep breath. I didn’t like when things didn’t go to plan; and I had planned this afternoon like a script.

- surprise clo at the airport
- give her a few hours to sleep
- wake her up with dinner
- eat, drink, love, talk

Instead I’d offended her almost instantly.

I inhaled quietly. I could still smell her perfume, something musky but sweet that had mixed with the intoxicating smell of her sweat, her skin, her shampoo- I let it distract me for a moment, it was a smell I had missed. Vanilla and rose and black honey- anything similar made my skin crawl and my mind flood with her.

She tortured me, even when she wasn't in the room, even when she wasn't in the country. Her smell, lingering on me from that warm, tight, hug was all it took for my brain to revisit the memories of that last night we'd spent with each other.

I wanted her in my room. God, I wanted her as close as she'd let me get her. I had pictured it, her shoes kicked off beside mine, her phone charger plugged by the other side of the bed, the sound of her in the shower as I laid in here, pretending to read- I'd pictured being able to see her through the half open bathroom door, her body twisting and relaxing below a waterfall of hot water and steam. I pictured admiring her through that open door, one that in the fantasy was open because we were so close- so comfortable, one that was open because she was mine and she felt comfortable, safe here, with me.

Because, though I couldn't admit it aloud, I couldn't even let myself write it down, even shrouded in metaphor or song- I knew that was the goal of the trip, to make her mine.

But what was I supposed to do? Throw her straight into that? Drop her bag on my bed and make it obvious that she had been all I could think about since I'd seen her last? (Or more realistically since I'd first seen her.)

I couldn't, it was all too forward, too suggestive, I couldn't ruin this by coming across as too eager- obsessive.

But I was obsessive, I always had been, there was something in me that wanted harder than everyone else, something that made Clodagh feel like a necessity, like something more important than air.

It was the same thing that let me memorise every inch of her face and every inch of her body and every mannerism and expression and movement of hers- it was the same thing that made being in the same room as her feel animalistic, dangerous.

We could’ve been good friends, we had a lot in common, she was smart, and funny and we just sort of understood each other.

But we weren’t friends.

We both, somewhere, knew that we could never be friends.

And so I had told myself this would be easier, that I needed to give her space, room to breathe, to make it clear I wasn't pressuring anything, I wasn't expecting anything of her.

Still, I'd take anything she gave, scraps and all, like a loitering dog.

But then I replayed the look on her face, when I showed her to her room, the brief, puzzled expression, the softening of those beautiful eyes, and it was still sitting in my gut like a brick.

She probably thought I didn't want her in here.
She couldn't have been more wrong.

I raked my hands through my hair, watching the city glisten under the hot, white, afternoon sun and muttering below my breath.

I didn't know the rules here, we weren't in a relationship but it felt reductive to call her a friend. How could I call her a friend when I had felt the weight of her breasts in my hands, when I had been the fist man to make her come, when I had seen every inch of the pretty thing?

I didn't know what I was allowed to say, to feel, to want, to show. But, she'd crossed the world to be here and I had acted as though she was just some friend I'd offered the spare room to.

I tried to tell myself she probably didn't care, she was jet lagged, she was probably grateful to have the space, to have the privacy, but I had grown to really know her over these last couple months. I knew exactly what that expression meant.

I wanted to go back, I could go back- offer her this room, tell her that I wanted her beside me more than I wanted most things in life...

But there was one thing that had the ability to occasionally eclipse my obsessive tendencies, my ever growing want, and that was fear.

And so I didn't go to her, I stayed in my room, wishing the woman in the next room didn't feel further away than she had when she was in another continent.

My head was empty of music but words teased at the edges, scratching for release and so I retreated to my notebook, as I usually did when my mind moved like a river, quick, loud, dangerous.

And although I wrote more in those minutes than I had in weeks, it wasn't a distraction when all the words were hers.

I'd sat at the sleek wooden desk in front of my room's expansive windows. I'd opened my notebook. I'd planned on writing something about Dante, his story lingering in my mind despite the fact I'd finished his epic poem months ago- and I did write about Dante, but I was using him to write about her.

I looked down at the words scrawled across my pages, debating if they should be torn out, when I heard footsteps.

They were quick and determined. It didn't matter if I was too scared to clear things up with her, she was coming to me.

My pulse started to thud a little quicker, my pen shaking between my fingers. I was trying to write something, but then I was thinking about what she would look like- fresh from the shower, damp hair clinging to her neck, no makeup, just her and those eyes...

When I turned in my seat, I got my answer, she was there, bursting into my room without so much of a knock.

I couldn't take my eyes off her, watching as she walked toward me in the littlest, white dress I'd ever seen, her hair was damp and pulled into some kind of bun but stray locks still clung to her moist skin. She looked dead at me, those feline eyes would always stop me dead in my tracks.

I was certain she thought far too highly of me as a man if she thought I was going to be able to have a conversation with her looking like that.

"Okay so what is this?" She began, leaning back and cupping her hip with her hand lazily, the curves of her body accentuated as she moved.

"I- I accept these spontaneous plane tickets, I fly all the way here because you asked me to- as what,.. a friend?" She asked, both hands on her hips now. Every word had landed like a punch, not because she was wrong, but because she was alive.

She was like a forest fire, something serious told me she was dangerous, I'd definitely get burnt, but she was also the most magnificent thing I'd ever seen.

Her eyes caught the light as she spoke passionately, that tiny cotton dress shifting over her hips in ways I couldn't not notice.

"I just think this is ridiculous. I- we had sex, but you don't want to sleep in the same bed?" She accused, turning to really look at me. She was pacing in a small line, as though she had to keep moving side to side in fear of moving forward- to me.

"Are you scared? Is that it?" She asked me frustratedly, running her tongue over her teeth annoyedly.

"Do you even want me here? Do you even want this?" Her words were like fuel and I knew she was referring to herself-
Did I want her, is what she was really asking.

That was a question I could answer.

But it was so hard not to just watch her, the energy that sizzled below the surface, the way her bare feet shifted on my rug, the way she looked right through me.

My restraint snapped slowly and then all at once, I'd spent every hour since she'd landed telling myself to be
careful, not to scare her off.

I'd begged myself not to cross the invisible line, all that had been left unsaid.

But she was here, she was right here and I'd been thinking about her every day since we met.

My body acted before my brain could and before I had any say I'd taken the two strides I'd needed to reach her before sinking to my knees before her. This is what belonging felt like.

I looked up at her, taking in every detail of her from this angle, the inviting curve of her breasts, her hips, the hem of her little slip slowly riding up...
Her lips had parted slightly, her previously sharp eyes had grown soft and curious as she looked down over me.

As I leant forward I could smell a memory of her cherry blossom body wash clinging to her legs.

"Yes Clo, I do. God, I do." I whispered, my neck craning to look up at her. I watched her inhale slowly, she even looked divine when she breathed.

I didn't get to taste her when we'd last saw each other, I'd promised her I would and I'd ached for it- but there hadn't been the time.

Now we had days. Maybe a week.

"I- you- don't show it." She stuttered with half a breath. I groaned, bowing to rest my forehead at the cradle of her stomach.

"Can I show you now?" I asked, gazing up at her, waiting for her permission like a dog waits for a bone. She knew what I was asking, she knew I wanted to go down on her.

Her eyes softened again, something more innocent splashing across them, it was a look that never failed to make my skin warm.

She was quick to nod, her inky hair swaying like the soft tendrils of the willow trees back home. It wasn't enough, I needed to hear her voice.

"Words, birdy." I sighed, squeezing the outsides of her thighs, feeling her muscles quiver in response. A broken sigh slipped from between her lips as she looked down at me.

"Yes. Andrew- please." My name sounded like prayer in her mouth and the thinly veiled desperation that stained her voice made my jaw ache yearningly.

The second she gave her sanction my hands were on her hips, squeezing tightly and feeling overwhelmed by the give I got in response, she defined femininity for me, for me, she was Venus.

I swallowed hard, dragging my palms up her thighs, letting my hands wrap selfishly around them, pushing further up until my fingertips teased the hem of her slip. Her breath hitched, catching in her throat, the sound burnt like iron in my chest.

The slip was nothing, a whisper of fabric between us that clung to her in ways that only made me curious about the places it hid. I let my knuckles graze her skin as I revealed her to me, just to see her body react.

Though I didn’t like when things went off plan- I was in the least surprised that we ended up like this.

"God Clodagh, nothing underneath this?" I breathed, watching her quiver as I gazed at her bareness, I'd been anticipating something cute and tight to peel off her- but this was far better.

"I was- I- do you wear underwear to sleep?" She asked, flushed at the accusation. I rolled my eyes, leaning forward to kiss a patch of skin just above where she really wanted me, as close as I could get. Her thighs trembled in my hand, pulling a soft groan from my lips.

"I do not, but you didn't go to sleep, Clodagh. You came here." I whispered, letting my hot breath spill between her thighs and along the soft skin of her pelvis. I knew she hadn't left her underwear because she was storming in here to ride me, I just liked watching her squirm at the accusation.

"I can go." She breathed, a threat. I chuckled, my hands instantly tightening around her hips. I couldn't help but pushback, trapping her between the wall and me.

"You don't want that." I purred quietly, letting each syllable have perfect clarity, letting my eyes catch hers. She shook her head, agreeing. I could only smile in response, it was taking every ounce of self control I had not to lunge at her, not to feast like a starving man.

But I was starving.
For her, I was always hungry.

I leant forward, brushing my lips over the soft inside of her thigh and the little dragonfly tattoo etched into her. The scent of her body wash was lighter here, replaced with a smell that was something purely her, my head was already spinning.

"God, Clo..." I whispered against her skin, the inside of her thighs were softer than anything I'd ever touched. My hands tightened again, anchoring her to the spot as my mouth moved slowly, deliberately higher. Her fingers twitched by her sides and her chest began to inflate and empty quickly, desperately.

Her hands soon gave in, one tangling itself into my hair, the tug was gentle, but enough to send fire crawling across my skin, mapping out my pulsing, intrinsic want for her.

"You don't know what you're doin' to me." I confessed, my voice so low it almost broke, cracking, spilling all of my secrets between her thighs.

She responded with a noise that sat somewhere between a laugh, a breath, a moan, and it lit me up from the inside. As I knelt before this woman who stood shivering above me, I was insatiable- I was a giver, being able to turn someone into a quivering mess was something always that switched on the animal in me.

It was probably antiquated, toxic, jealous or possessive- but I knew it was about control, about power. I wanted to make her feel so good she'd never forget me, I wanted to watch her devolve from a beautiful, smart, kind woman- into a desperate mess.

I wanted to watch her thighs part, and her eyes roll. I wanted to hear her gasp and moan and cry, I wanted to overwhelm her, to force so much pleasure into her that nothing else made sense.

I had thought every day about the confessions she made to me in bed- that no other man had ever had made her come, that when she touched herself (which was a delicious enough thought in and of itself,) she thought about me...

I looked up at her again, her amber eyes caught mine, refusing to let me escape her hypnotic stare. That was until I pushed her right thigh over my shoulder and my lips pressed against the soft seam of her thigh and her lashes fluttered in anticipation.

My thumbs traced the shape of her hips, committing her structure to memory, I'd thought about this a hundred times (more.) but thinking about her and having her were two distinct forms of torture.

Soon my self control ran dry, I groped the thigh I had slung over my shoulder, the weight of it the only thing keeping me grounded in reality- and tasted her.
She gasped, sharp and startled, her grip in my hair tightening as if she wasn't prepared for the sensation.

God, she was sweet, musky, addictive. Usually women didn't taste like much at all, but she tasted so good my jaw clenched and my tongue grew greedier.

I let my tongue move softly, slowly, at first, elongating the process, mapping her out all over again, taking note of every twitch, every sigh. She made these soft, breathy noises that scraped something animalistic in me, needling their way to my raw centre.

Her thighs clenched and released sporadically, her slip threatened to fall, to hide me from the world as I enjoyed my meal- but she grabbed it, hiking up her skirt so she could watch.

Christ.

Every time I let my tongue circle deeper, probing but gentle, she would emit these little noises, half whimper, half sigh. They only fuelled the flames that licked at the inside of my gut, telling me to take more of her, all of her. I could do this for days, lap and suck and kiss...

Her legs slowly devolved from wobbly to trembling, forcing my hands to grip her tighter, knowing there'd be marks on her left hip and her right thigh from my desperate fingers digging in to whatever I could find. I liked that, I wanted that, I wanted her to see them and think of me. I wanted to walk around LA with her and have any man who dared to look close enough to see them peek out the bottom of her shorts- know that she was being taken care of by someone else. By me.

When I shifted my mouth slightly, gently lapping at her clit (which I'd been strategically avoiding thus far,) her knees buckled. I caught her easily, pulling her hips toward me so I could bury my face back against her. She pulled harder at my hair and her hips found a soft rhythm, grinding softly against my tongue, a collaboration of movement with one goal- to break her.

"And-Andrew-" It was the first coherent thing she'd said since I'd put my mouth on her. It scared me, my name in 32 years had never sounded so damn good. I groaned, the vibration drawing another delicious gasp from her. Her sounds were unguarded now, little whines and hiccups and cries that she couldn't even try to hold back.

She moved with me, her body shaking and fluid as we chased the same goal. I wouldn't rush her though, I wanted her to feel every second, to know that I'd been thinking about this since the second I laid eyes on her. Her thighs began trembling harder, her breath hitching high in her throat, her grip on my hair stinging beautifully.

I let the hand I had wrapped around her thigh, clench, keeping it still on my shoulder. I let the hand I had on her hip move to the back of her thigh, keeping her nice and steady, nice and close.

I worked her higher and higher, letting her coat my tongue as she squirmed and mewled. This was it. This was the heaven I'd envisioned for myself, her sweetness invading my senses, my mouth worshipping her centre, her body breaking out small, desperate noises.

I could tell she was teetering on the edge as I sucked gently at her, opening my eyes to look at her face. She was looking down at me, as if with surprise, her eyes were wide and her mouth open but I couldn't see all that much of her face. The curve of her breasts eclipsed most of my view, straining against the slip, this was too good, it was all too good.

"Don't stop- don't stop- don't stop." She repeated quietly, the words soft and crushed and slurred. I almost laughed, as if I'd ever want to stop, but I wanted to make her come and so I continued my actions before dragging my hand slowly away from the back of her thigh, trailing upwards. She startled as my fingertips teased at her opening, she dripped down the length of them, my throat ached with want.

I forced myself to meet her gaze again, silently asking permission, she nodded instantly- her eyes rolling as my fore and middle fingers slowly pushed into her. Feeling how warm and wet and how utterly tight she was around my fingers made me groan. I couldn't believe I'd had her wrapped around my cock before, I couldn't believe I had her where she was now.

My thoughts were interrupted when she finished, the sound she made tore through me. Her hips twitched uncontrollably against my lips and her fingers were threatening to take chunks out of my hair but I held strong. My hands tightened yet again on whatever flesh of hers was available, she whined but I held her there, guiding her through each wave of pleasure, through the growing, unyielding intensity, until her body finally eased against me.

I took my time slowly cleaning her up, despite how she whimpered at the overstimulation but eventually I pulled back. I immediately craned my neck to look at her, waiting for the praise I desperately craved from her.

Her eyes were hazy and her hair a mess from being pushed against the wall. A sweet pink stained her cheeks and her gaze remained steadfast as she huffed quietly.

"You can let go now, birdy." I whispered, referring to the eagle like grip she had on my hair. She blinked a few times before instantly letting go, as if she hadn't realised she was still holding on.

I forced myself to push her thigh off my shoulder, I wanted to keep going, to rut her into my mattress, to push this until there was nothing left- but I'd promised myself I wouldn't. Not tonight. She'd just stepped off the longest flight she'd ever been on, this morning she was in an entirely different continent and I knew jet lag well.

I knew she needed sleep, and I knew that if she didn't it would only get worse and last longer. Giving her up now meant not having to give her up tomorrow.

Reluctantly, I let my hands run down the back of her legs, my head bowing and fingers curling in protest before I let her go.

When I stood up I was close, almost too close, I could smell her skin, feel the heat rolling off of her. God- and those pretty golden eyes looked up at me so temptingly, somehow she still looked innocent with her slip still sitting exposingly across half of her pelvis.
My jeans were unbearably tight and whatever part of me that was more animal than man tore through me, pleading me to take her.

Her lips were still parted, so invitingly so that I let the fingers that had been buried inside of her tease across them. I groaned as she opened her mouth, inviting the digits in and closing her lips around them. She kept her eyes on mine as she sucked my fingers clean, all I could think about was what it would feel like to press into her...

When my hands returned to her hips she gave me this look, wide eyed and searching, she could tell I was wound up.

"You're looking at me like-"

"Don't. Clo. You need to get some sleep." I interrupted roughly, even her voice made me wild.

Her brow furrowed slightly, as if she didn't believe me, or she wanted to push me. Instead, she wrapped her arms loosely around herself.

"That..." She trailed off, unable to name what we'd just done.

"Wasn't why I came in here." She breathed, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

"I know, but you enjoyed it right?" I asked, watching as she rolled her eyes and then shoved my chest.

"It was alright." She lied, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. I groaned, wanting nothing more than to have her until she confessed how good this was, how good we were.

"You really should get to sleep." I sighed, now cupping her soft cheek in my hand. Her eyes twinkled and she clasped her hand over mine before smirking again.

"Oh I should sleep? Right, well I better take my leave then- to my room, y'know?" She said with faux seriousness, only smiling as she watched my face. My eyes rolled and my arms wrapped around her, taking her weight into my grasp as I flung her over my shoulder. My groin ached at the sound of her squeal and giggle, writhing before I dropped her into my bed,

that would now be our bed.

She looked up at me, supporting herself on her elbows that dug back into the mattress, she was huffing softly, mauve lips parted as she gazed up at me.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" She asked quietly, her lashes fluttering and her knees opening gently, deliberately showing me everything I'd just feasted on, glistening, inviting me in, clouding my brain. I tried to tear my eyes away from her, away from the angel in my bed spreading herself open for me. I could whole heartedly understand the lads that thought this kind of temptation had to be from the devil. Inescapable, never ending...

And there it was, the loud thud of my animal heart that always forced me closer to her, that made my skin feel like it was on fire every second we were in the same room without our hands all over each other...

"Birdy. Please, y'killin' me. You think I don't want to say yes?" I asked her seriously, wondering if she knew what a sight she was, that tiny little dress, the evening sun drenching her warm skin, the flush of an orgasm still splashed over her face...

She bit her lip.

Fuck. Surely that wasn't allowed.

"Christ... Just- listen, please just sleep, the jet lag will only get worse if you don't."

I wasn't sure how I'd managed the strength to deny her. I was going to give in, to make love to her just once before she went to sleep.

But I knew her, and more importantly, I knew myself.

I knew that whatever we started would take hours, maybe days to finish.

Notes:

See you soon far the next topic, I missses two Xx v

Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Notes:

Hi all, enjoy x

Clodagh

My eyes were sticky and my throat raw when I finally woke up, I was refreshed but still heavy with slumber as I was slowly pulled into the world of the waking.

I swallowed, my throat sludgy and lazy with sleep, and blinked a few times as my body adjusted to the new environment. I knew I was in America, in LA, and I knew he was somewhere close. As I slowly sat up and continued blinking sleep from my eyes it became apparent that I was somehow back in my room- or no, that he'd moved my things into this room while I was sleeping.

My phone was plugged in and sat beside me on the nightstand, a bottle of water sat next to it and my bags were laid neatly beside the bed.

A quiet message.
I want you here.

A blush invaded my face, crawling across in streaks of warm pink. I couldn’t be certain this wasn’t a dream as I recollected what he'd done... to me? for me?

It came to me in pieces, fragments, like involuntary flashes from a fever dream. I hadn’t expected it, I hadn’t expected his certainty, his intensity. One moment I was talking, ranting, perhaps even yelling- the next he was on his knees before me like it was worship, like there wasn’t a single other place he could belong…

And then- I mean, fuck.

His mouth, his jaw, lips, tongue, his huge hands steadying me as though he thought I may crumble beneath the weight of his act of devotion. I’d gotten head before, of course, but never like that, never from someone who devoured me as I were the sun and he’d been locked away his entire life. There was no hesitation at all in him, no apprehension or anxiety. He didn’t just do it, he lived it, revelled in it. He put his mouth on me with purpose that had stripped me raw.

I remembered the way he looked up at me, gazing through long dark lashes with that husky emerald stare. I’d tried to speak, to meet him with a witty remark but he had silenced me at every corner with his intensity, my thighs trembling in his hands. He had silenced me like my words were nothing, as though the only language between us now was bodily.

And then I came, God it was unearthly, it was as though he’d been waiting for it his entire life. He didn’t slow, didn’t pull away, he held me there, drinking me down, swallowing me whole… and the sound of it, far from polite, he was greedy, possessive.

It was the best I had, there wasn’t competition. My mouth watered at the thought of him, I glanced around the room knowing it was a matter of hour until we’d be in here together again. I decided quickly that I took issue with him claiming my ultimate pleasure, and that in return, tonight, I’d go down on him for the first time and I’d make sure he’d never forget it.

It had grown dark in the room, I guessed it was probably around 7 by now. My body and brain were mush from the flight and the orgasm and my concept of time had grown poor but I knew one thing.

I was fucking starving.

The last time I'd eaten was on the plane, maybe 10 hours ago now. Hunger simmered in my stomach, fuelling my ascent from bed, I wondered if Andrew was hungry, or if he'd already eaten. Surely we could door dash something if he had.

I stumbled out of the bed and a tangle of the crisp white duvet and ridiculously soft sheets, expecting to need to grab a jumper but being reminded of the comfortable heat of the city I found myself in.

Andrew had turned off the air conditioning off sometime after I fell asleep. The wide, dark ceiling fan was on and the windows were cracked, I imagine as the sun slowly set and the heat ebbed a little he decided to let in some fresh air.

I trudged towards the bathroom, peeing and then washing my hands and face. I stared at myself in the mirror, there was someone uncharacteristically happy staring at me. My eyes fell to the vanity in this bathroom, my toiletry bag sat on the left side, his unpacked things sat on the right.

His electric razor was perched on a small ledge by the mirror, his toothbrush and toothpaste sitting beside it. It seemed weirdly domestic, to see his things all laid out. I silently unpacked my toiletries as well, my things one side, his on the other.

I didn't let myself think too much about him bringing all my things into this room. Part of me was itching insecurely, whispering that he'd only done it to please me, he'd only done it because I made such a fuss.

The other part of me was kinder, the other part let me believe that perhaps he felt drawn to me in the same way I felt drawn to him. I thought about all the half baked conversations we'd had about feelings, it all seemed to boil to- we both have them, we both have no idea what to do about them.

Still, despite the confusion and anxiety and messy, messy feelings- I decided to let myself have some peace.

I slowly left the bathroom, and then our room, creeping into the hallway. The closer I got to the house's main space, the stronger a warm smell of wine, tomato and garlic became.

My stomach gurgled just at the smell, my mouth watering almost uncontrollably. When I reached the end of the hall, I peered out over the open space that held the living room, dining room and kitchen.

Warm lights spilled across stone counters and floors, a soft bubbling was sounding from the kitchen and Andrew was stood at the stove, one hand he had wrapped around a wooden spoon, the other he had braced against the bench, soft veins bulged at his pale skin, I thought about what it might feel like to wrap my fingers around his wrist.

His hair was pushed back, probably from rhythmically dragging his fingers through it as he cooked. I took a small step forward and the smell of the dish hit me even harder, thick, sweet tomato cut through by basil and garlic. My stomach made an embarrassingly loud sound in response to its hunger.

Andrew turned, his face growing warm and mellow as his eyes instantly found me.

"Sleeping beauty, you've awoken." He teased, his lips tugging into a smile, his eyes staying trained on mine. It was odd to have someone you'd seen on tv, online, at the Grammys- staring right at you.

"It was a long flight." I murmured, heat prickling at my cheeks. I started towards him, my bare feet silent on the polished floors.

"Mm." He agreed, as I stood on the other side of the bench. His eyes were flickering over me, taking in the disheveled nature of my slip, the hair I hadn't bothered to fix and the pillow crease that ran across the side of my face.

"You look..." He began, eyes scanning me up and down without apprehension, a sly smile curling across his lips.

"Well rested." He finished, saying more than the words actually let on. Those green eyes were staring right at me. I bit my bottom lip and let my eyes roll.

"And you look smug." I accused, the edges of my lips twitching. He grinned, shrugging arrogantly and sighing.

"How could I not?" He asked, chewing the inside of his cheek. I only responded with a huff and a cock of my brow.

"You hungry?" He asked, tilting his head to the side as he waited for my response. I chuckled, nodding vigorously.

"I could eat a horse." I admitted, feeling hunger simmer in me, only growing stronger as the smell of dinner wafted closer.

He laughed quietly in response before frowning.

"Vegetarian, tonight I'm afraid." He confessed, dipping the wooden spoon into the pot, gathering a portion of the glossy red sauce and cradling it as he brought it towards me.

"Here, tell me if I've ruined it." He offered.

I hesitated, before leaning in and letting myself taste what he had created. I was embarrassed by the soft moan I let slip, my eyes immediately closing to enjoy the rich, herb laced tomato.

"That's- fuck Andy, that's really good." I complimented, now only growing more impatient about dinner. He cracked a wide smile and nodded.

"I'm glad you t'ink so. It's simple, just going to pair it with gnocchi and burrata- oh and some wine of course." He informed me, my eyes lit up and my stomach twisted in impatience.

"I love gnocchi." I responded immediately, my body buzzing. A peaceful flight, the best head of my life, a nap and then gnocchi? This day couldn't get better. Andrew smiled, looking away as if suddenly unable to meet my gaze.

"I know you do. Can't promise it'll be as good as if I made the gnocchi at home though. Y'know I hate to lean into the stereotypes but our potatoes are inarguably better." He told me, his words lazy and easy as he turned to grab a large metal bowl that had been resting beneath a tea towel.

"You made the gnocchi? From scratch?" I asked, trying to hide quite how impressed I was. Another smirk tugged at those lips.

"I did. You know I like to cook." He challenged, pulling the tea towel off the bowl to reveal fresh, floured gnocchi. He proceeded to slowly transfer them into a pot of bowling water, his actions were slow, deliberate, careful. I watched as his fingers flexed, deftly transferring the delicate food into the pot.

"I do, but you've never actually cooked for me- like a meal." We'd spent a lot of time together as friends. He was a good baker, I'd tasted his tiramisu, brownies, banana bread, it was all fantastic. I was yet to taste an entire meal curated by him, though.

"Not true, I have made you so much mi goreng." He countered playfully as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing bowls, and then forks, then the wine and the glasses, the burrata and a handful of fresh parsley.

I'd introduced him to the joys of mi goreng, in consequence he'd learnt how to dress it up. Whenever we'd eat it at his place he'd add egg and kimchi, spring onions, occasionally pork.

"That is always fantastic." I yielded, leaning forward to grab the wine. Andrew's eyes fell to my cleavage as I arched over the counter, we both noticed this.

"I'm telling you, I have a gift. Do you want to eat inside or out?" He asked, his eyes darting from me, to the dining table, to the glass doors that opened out onto the porch.

"Outside?" I suggested, wanting to absorb as much of the beauty here as I could. He smiled and nodded, watching the pot before him bubble and spit.

"I'll take these." I hummed, hooking my fingers around the wine glasses and grabbing the bottle with my other hand.

"Grand, we could have a swim later if you like." He offered, looking up from the simmering gnocchi at me, eyes then flickering to the pool outside. I chewed on my lip, shrugging gently.

"I'm not sure we'll have time." I mused cryptically, watching his brows furrow as he angled his green stare at me.

"I don't have anything planned." He hummed in confusion. I shrugged teasingly, sliding past him to get outside but making sure that my body brushed against his.

"I do, I've gotta thank you for this dinner somehow." I breathed suggestively in his ear as I slipped past. I heard his breath catch in his throat and glanced behind me to catch his jaw clenching and his hands flexing atop the counter. It was as if he was gathering all the strength, the patience, he had.

I sucked my teeth as I retreated outside, letting my body swing a touch more than it would have naturally.

I liked seeing the effect I had on him. The way on nights like these his eyes seemed to struggle to look at anything but me. It was like a drug, he made me feel bubbly, interesting, wanted.

It didn't take him long to join me outside but in the minute or so I was by myself, I found a real sense of peace. My bare feet were pressed against the stone of the deck, still warm from a day of drinking in the hot sun and my chest sat full, content.

The view before me was unlike anything I'd seen, a beautiful blend of the green and the industrial; Ireland's cities weren't like this, ours were rich and verdant, ancient, magic. This city, miles below us glittered, fizzing like the time bomb of opportunity it was.

I sat the bottle of wine (a very old, very expensive, red,) on the small, rounded, glass topped table that sat close to the door, and waited.

When he finally arrived, placing a bowl of hot, aromatic gnocchi before me- I thought I'd been lifted to heaven. Before I could ask, a spoon was placed in my hand and Andrew's slender fingers were curled around the bottle of wine, slowly pouring my glass, and then his.

I pressed my spoon into the meal, letting gnocchi and that deep red sauce flood the end. When I finally lifted it into my mouth my eyes rolled.

"Jesus..." I breathed with my mouthful. I glanced to my left to see Andy chuckling beside me.

"Mm you look so proud of yourself." I noticed pointedly, he gave the same goofy stare I afforded him.

"Shouldn't I be?" He asked, leaning back in his chair, one hand behind his head, the other cupped around his glass of wine. My eyes trailed the curve of his bicep, visible in his t-shirt…

"Today you flew across the world, had an orgasm, took a nap and your first real meal here is home cooked- that has to have set some kind of precedent?" He suggested, lips twitching smugly. I let the soft flesh of the inside of my cheek retreat between my molars, biting back a smile.

"You're ridiculous." I responded, though he was right. A first class flight, the best head of my life, the best nap of my life and the best gnocchi of my life had made for a fantastic day.

"Delicious." He corrected, shooting me a wink as he took a spoonful from his own bowl. I scoffed, but he was right of course, it was delicious, ridiculously delicious.

The air between us was warm, the aroma of wine and tomato and cheese only made it warmer.

"You're right though. I really do have to hand it to you Andrew... This is like painfully good." I admitted, not to flatter him but to thank him. I don't think a man had ever made me dinner, a man certainly had never flown me to LA just for a visit before.

"You seemed surprised." His teasing tone, warm but strong like the whiskey he often indulged in- still stained his voice.

"I didn't realise cooking was something you enjoyed so much." I told him, still smiling as we slowly pulled at every moment. All of it was slow, the words, the food, the jazz that seeped from nearby speakers- we grew slower to save each second, the silk of the breeze, the glow of the city below us, the smoothness of the wine, the warmth of the company.

"You didn't ask." He drawled, sipping from him glass so elegantly it almost upset me.

"You don't ask enough about me." He finished, placing his felt green stare on me, a tipsy smile threatened the edges of his mouth, tugging into dimples on his cheeks. The jab was playful, but something about it stuck, niggling at my insides.

"Alright then," I breathed, my fork pausing in my mouth before I could finish my bite.

"What are you really doing here? In LA? Besides essentially being my concubine?" I smirked, watching him chuckle- I liked making him laugh.

"Well doting on your every sexual whim is obviously my primary job here, but, in spare moments I'm working. Writing, recording, meeting with producers mainly, just trying to figure out what's coming next." His eyes danced from me to his meal to the view below us. I leant forward, inexplicably attracted to him, to his every word.

"And what is that?" I pressed, feeling the urge to burrow, to dig into him and suck out all the knowledge of him I wanted. His brows softened and he ran a hand lazily through his river of curls.

"That's the question, eh? Home is too quiet sometimes but LA is so loud. Everyone has an angle, everyone seems to want something from me- but the sound I want is here." He said wistfully, his eyes staring right over me, like he was suddenly a million miles away. I pulled back slightly which seemed to reawaken him. He looked at me, smiling sweetly.

"The music though," He began, he was still quiet, voice raspy and slow, but he was suddenly brighter. I could see his passion flood his face. I quickly wondered how the industry hadn't chewed up and spat out such a lovely man yet.

"The music makes it all worth it. I get in the studio here and like regardless of any underlying shite- everyone is the best at what they do. It's like walking into the sun- into a whirling, overwhelming storm. It's fucken' chaos, but it's some of the only times I really feel alive." I believed him, he delivered the words as if he'd plucked them straight from his soul. I'd never quite seen beauty like his ambition, his dedication. It was a side I rarely got to see, honest, raw, vulnerable.

"You love it." I commented, it seemed the only worthy noticing to make. His face split into another smile and he nodded.

"I can't not- it's the only thing- it's the only way anything makes sense, you know?" He asked me, as though I could somehow have had half an intimate experience with music that he had.

"I think I do." I wasn't drawn to the creation of music the way he was, but I still felt that spark, the idea that whatever you're doing is the right choice.

"Addictive, creating always is- especially like this when there's something that's itching at you- that has to be written about." He said the last few words as if he forgot he wasn't alone, as if he was speaking straight from the soul. His eyes floated to mine and he straightened slightly, clearing his throat.

The silence that followed was weighted, heavy with the things we both strategically left unsaid. I yearned to tell him how beautiful he was like this- how absolutely breathtaking it was to watch him be so enamoured by his work, his passion. Instead, I picked up my glass and drank slowly, letting the velvety wine smooth my sensibilities.

"Sounds like there's something that's really speaking to you, creatively, you know?" I eventually noticed lazily. He sucked his teeth, as if holding himself back, before deflating and smiling tiredly.

"Someone." He corrected, holding my gaze long enough to watch my breath catch in my throat. My stomach twisted and flipped and suddenly all I could do was look at my plate, like the answers of the universe were imprinted on the smooth tomato sauce he'd made, maybe they were.

"Shy all of a sudden?" He asked, his words smooth like honey but sharp like rum.

"Piss off- you're insufferable." I muttered, though we were both smiling stupidly at one another. His face was lit up with the smile, lazily splayed across his cheeks, reaching the twinkle of his eyes.

"And you're blushing." He noticed, my breath pausing as he placed the backs of two fingers against my cheek, feeling the warmth that had risen to the surface for him. I grabbed his wrist, glaring at him with knitted brows. He smiled, eyes flickering to my lips.

"I don’t think I’ve actually kissed you yet." He hummed, and he was right- amongst it all we hadn't actually kissed. I liked kissing him, I’d thought about it almost obsessively since he’d first kissed me, my skin felt tight at the proposition of it happening again.

“Well what’re ye’ waiting for?” I breathed, I wasn’t aware that my hand still wrapped itself around his wrist until he pushed his fingers between mine. A smirk spread slowly across his face, his eyes casually choosing between my eyes and my lips.

I wasn’t sure who was leaning forward but we were getting closer. For a moment I was convinced that actually neither of us were moving forward and that instead magnets, deeply implanted in each of us- were struggling to meet each other, forcing us together.

I thought he was about to kiss me but instead he rested his forehead onto mine. My lip quivered at the sound of him raking in a ragged breath.

“God, you smell so good.” He confessed, his voice almost a growl as his free hand fell to my waist. The warmth of his palm made me shiver and his words made me weak.

“What do I smell like?” I asked quietly, he sighed, his breath spilling over my chin and my neck. He moved, bowing his nose into the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply. My skin immediately responded with goosebumps.

“You smell…” He began quietly, his whisper soft like crushed velvet but rough like bark.

“Like warmth, like vanilla and honey and linen- clean but lived in. You smell like the sheets you’ve been tangled up in, you smell like sleep and soap and something flowery. You just- you smell like you, and it seeps in, I want to drown in it.” He murmured, his lips rolling with speech against my neck.

My body was on fire.

He squeezed my hips and returned his forehead to mine, we were breathing each other’s air, there was something poetic to be said about that but the words seemed to leave me.

“It’s not fair, you smell like comfort and coziness and sex, you smell like divinity and sin at the same time, and I can’t-” At this point his words paused, sometimes because he was so sweet and soft and him- I forgot he was a lyricist, that verbiage came eloquent and naturally to him, I was always reminded of this when he said something that made my body glow.

Our chairs sat half a metre away from one another but our bodies were close, my heart thudded and pounded and raced as though it were trying to break out of my chest and jump into his.

“I can’t stop myself from wanting more of it, from wanting more of you- all of you.” My jaw clenched when he corrected himself, not more, all. It seemed that a barrier had been broken, that whatever apprehension he’d nursed towards me before had somehow shattered.

“You say that to all the girls?” I asked breathlessly, feeling his large hands slither from my waist to the legs of my chair. A gasp was torn from my lips as he yanked my chair forward, so close to him that our legs were intertwined, my left knee sitting between both of his.

“No.” The word was simple and made abrupt by the sudden act of his lips on mine, his stubble felt like gold beneath my fingers and his lips felt like salvation.

We both tasted of wine and garlic and tomato, if it were anyone else I was sure I’d find it gross. But not with him, with him this was intimate, it was sharing everything, it was indescribable.

He caged my waist with his left hand, his right cupping the side of my face as we kissed like teenagers; Desperate and with the kind of prickly excitement that accompanied something new, something unfamiliar.

There wasn’t much room for thought as we kissed, it was instead all feeling, all intense and tearing and animal. It was my favourite jigsaw: his lips on mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, my teeth sinking into his bottom lip, our soft moans and sighs, his ever tightening grip on my waist…

There were but two questions I was left with.

How would we manage to do anything else but explore each other on this trip?

And,

How would we manage to survive a connection that reeked of danger became more desperate each day?

Notes:

I’m so so so excited to write the rest of this trip! Thank you for your continued support, leave a comment if you like, it’s nice to be reminded that someone actually reads this x

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Notes:

Thank you so much for the love on the last chapter,

Hope you enjoy x

Clodagh

I sighed into the quietness of the kitchen, now stripped of the clatter of our used dishes and the soft rush of water against the steel of the sink. I wasn't sure how Andrew and I had managed, but we finished dinner without jumping each other's bones. We then worked side by side to clean it all up. It was quiet, the clean up. I was sure a silent agreement had formed between us or that at the very least we had the same idea: the quicker and easier this is finished, the quick and easier we'd be alone with nothing to do...

He'd of course first insisted the clean up could wait until the morning. But, I wasn't ready to be so alone with him again, if we were alone I knew we'd be dragged together again and I needed a moment to catch my breath.

So, I promised he'd feel better if we got it done now. And we did, rinsing plates and dishes, simplicity personified. It wasn't lost on me how easy it had been for us to find a rhythm, to work together seamlessly.

But now it was clean, and there was nothing left to be done, no dishes, no excuses, just us, him and I.

He leaned back against the counter, drying his hands lazily with a tea towel. I could feel his eyes on me before I actually looked at him, when I did I felt my throat constrict. His face was the sweet intersection of shadow and sharpness beneath the warmth of the kitchen lights. The high sweep of his cheekbones cut hard, his dark stubble roughened his face and his jaw with a careless kind of wildness that made him look untouchable, more God than man.

I admired a lock of hair, a single curl that had escaped his bun, sitting over the middle of his forehead, damp from the steam of the sink and there was this smudge of tiredness below his eyes. It manifested in a soft purple that only served to make his eyes more green, more fiery and as they set on me I felt like I was caught in a trap.

His wasn't quite smiling, he was too stoic for that, but his bottom lip caught as if trying to bite back words.

His eyes were where I always came back, heavy lidded and dark with the kind of heat I wasn't designed to survive, that would strip me bare. They lingered on me with a faux patience, razor thin as he waited for me to break first. It wasn't gentle, the stare, it was pointed, unflinching and most noticeably, hungry. His imperfection made him all the more desirable, all the more dangerous.

It was unfamiliar, to look at someone and be flooded with such want, such intense need, but when I looked at him all I could acknowledge was the pull forward. I wanted him with a kind of desperation that scared me. He felt skipping too close to the edge of a cliff. Under that want was something sinful but more delicate, a secret itch that had nothing to do with what he'd do to me and all to do with what I'd do for him.

The thought had been lingering persistently, tugging at the back of mind, tugging at the soft strings between my thighs. He'd undone me to completely just hours ago, he'd left me boneless and pathetic below his tongue, I hadn't known I could unravel like that- and I wanted to see him crumble into the same mess. So each time I caught a glimpse of his large hands, or the swan strength of his neck, or the soft curve of his almost smile- all I could think about was how it would feel to take care of him, to offer that kind of surrender back.

The thought was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying,

Because I hadn't given the way he had, not properly, I'd never dedicated myself so fully to the act and the thought of fumbling, of failing, of his heated gaze softening with something more pitying- made me sick.

But God I wanted to,

I wanted to kneel for him, to feel the weight of him on my tongue, to taste him and hear him gasp my name in the way I had gasped his. It was a secret I kept tucked behind my teeth but every inch of me ached with that gentle desire.

Neither of us had moved, the space of an aisle between us, the air thick was everything we weren't saying. His gaze was steadfast on me, looking down at me like I was an exhibit. I knew if I leant in now, if I touched him, there'd be no going back.

My lips part and I finally speak.

"Andrew..." I speak slowly, wondering why it was so hard to form the words in my mouth. He tilted his head, slowly deliberately, waiting for my continuation, for my words.

"Clodagh?" He asked, gently prompting me to keep going, to say the thing that was so hard to admit.

The words burned at the back of my throat, shame and want made a potent cocktail.

"I've been thinking about, I keep thinking about..." I began, unsure how to say this, wishing I was smoother, more confident.

He took two steps forward, bringing a hand to my face to cradle my cheek, his thumb lazily dragged over my bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal my bottom teeth, his eyes still burningly focused on me.

"About what? Tell me." He urged quietly, eyes flickering from my mouth to my eyes and back again.

The command in his tone, the strict instruction, the way he said it so confidently- I hated how easily I obeyed, how quickly the truth spilled out.

"I- want to go down on you." The words left my mouth in a breathy rush and I very quickly found I could no longer meet his gaze.

His hand tightened on my face, not harshly, just enough to make me look at him. His pupils blew wide and his mouth parted as though he'd been struck.

"Jesus, Clodagh." He breathed, his thumb tightening against my cheek, his eyes serious as they laid on mine.

"Do you know what you're saying to me? Do you know what that does to me?"

"I mean it." I gasped, shocked at how desperate I sounded. "I've never wanted to in this way- but I want to for you, I really want to make you feel good- please."

Something dangerous flickered across his eyes, something that immediately made my body respond before my brain could even process. My thighs clenched as I felt myself growing slicker.

"Christ..." He muttered, bringing himself so close our foreheads were almost touching, his breath hot against my mouth. "You're gonna kill me, you know that?"

His hand then slid into my hair, tugging my head back just enough to expose my throat. Prickly pleasure sprouted from below his fingers, traveling across my scalp.

"You want to get on your knees for me, Birdy?" He asked, his voice all venom and want. My chest instantly tightened, my lungs filling with a soft gasp.

"Yes."

He groaned, for a moment his hand fisted tighter in my hair, like he was going to drag me down himself. Then he forced himself to still, tugging tighter at my hair again.

"You have no idea how much I want that- how much I want to watch you on your knees for me." He admitted gruffly, forcing me to look him in the eyes. I should've been outraged but instead I nearly dropped to the floor right there.

"It’d be such a pretty sight." I promised, the words shocking us both. His brows jumped with dark intrigue. I whimpered slightly as she pulled my head back, enough to kiss my neck gently and whisper his command.

"On your knees for me, Clo." He rasped in my ear, not a suggestion, an instruction. The words tore through me, heat flooded me so fast I thought I'd drown in it. This wasn't me, I should've been humiliated maybe even angry at myself and my eager obedience but the truth was uglier, needier, more human. My body moved before my pride could catch up, I sunk to the floor.

The cool floor pressed against my knees, a sharp reminder of how far I'd let him undo me. My dress rode up my thighs as I shifted lower, my hands found their place flat against his hips and my head tilted up to face him.

God, seeing him from this angle only fuelled my fire, his tall frame, clenched jaw, his chest rising and falling with each quickening breath.

My lips parted, not touching him yet, just breathing him in. He stared down at me like he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life, his eyes were glazed with an awe that made me burn.

"Jesus Clodagh, you're so pretty like this, my perfect, perfect girl." The words sunk into me, shame and pride tangling in a hot, tight knot. I swallowed hard, my legs pressing together before I whispered-

"I just want to make you feel good, please Andrew, please baby." I whispered partially because it was true and partially because I knew it would set him alight. His breath left him in a broken laugh, almost disbelieving.

"You're begging to suck my cock, do you know what that does to me?" He asked, letting his thumb brush over my lower lip and his eyes grow narrower.

"Open." He ordered, strict but soft.
I obeyed, opening my mouth and warming as I saw his brows knit in desperation, in obsession.

His free hand fumbled with his belt and his fly, his chest absolutely heaving, all I could think about was how much I wanted to taste him.

My heart thundered as he freed himself, the weight of him heavy and thick in his hand. I couldn't look away, it felt obscene how much I wanted this, how much he lit me up.

He guided himself closer to me, hovering just above my lips, his voice shook with a dark hunger.
"You're mine Clodagh, say it."

My throat tightened at the sound of his words, a blush flooded my cheeks and although it felt filthy, I said it.

"I'm yours." I paired the words with a big doe stare, gazing up at him with the sweet look that I knew made him wild. His hand cradled the back of my head as he stared down at me, forcing a smirk across my lips. I bag my lashes, knowing how it would make him squirm, it worked, he shuddered, just waiting for me.

When the tension was at its peak, sitting thick in the air, I let my lips part and then close around him. His eyes fluttered and his mouth fell open, short, hard breaths falling from his lips.

A low guttural sound emanated from his chest as I took him further into my mouth, teasingly slow. His hand tightened yet again in my hair, not punitive but desperate, unable to stop himself.

His salty taste overwhelmed me and I let my tongue slide along the underside of his tip, wanting to impress him, and succeeding in doing so, he whined pathetically at my slow actions.

I slowly increased my speed, rhythmically but not quickly, taking him in and out of my warm, eager mouth.

"Good- fuck you're so good at this." He confessed as though it was a secret, as though the words were torn from his mouth without so much as his permission. The praise made me buzz, encouraging me to take it further, take him deeper.

I couldn't stop looking at him like this, uninhibited, hot. His bun had already come undone, loose curls, damp with sweat, falling to frame his pleasure stained face. The careful, put together, almost aloof demeanour he sported had soon devolved into something more raw, vulnerable.

His shirt was now half unbuttoned and sticking to him in the best places, his sweat gluing the fabric to his lithe form. My eyes followed the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel, damp, smelling of just him. I didn't usually enjoy giving head, but no one had ever seemed so grateful before, and definitely no one I'd done this for had been quite so beautiful.

Every time his abs clenched, that lined tightened, flexing with the rest of him. His hands were in my hair, tugging, guiding but I still looked up to catch a glance of the way he tilted his head back, the way he bared his throat for me. His Adam Apple strained as he swallowed a groan, his jaw would clench and sharpen before releasing, soft moans spilled from him unabashedly. I remembered the first time we had sex, and my realisation that the beauty of his voice leeched into the sounds he made in bed, of course his noises of pleasure were delicious- melodic.

I wanted to be the only person who heard them.

His face was flushed and his eyes darted from me to the ceiling, to me, to closed and back again. His lips parted and his eyes rolled each time I took him deeper. It excited me wickedly to see how undone I made him, I worried my experience would have eclipsed his, that he was better than I, but as I watched him, tight, moaning, desperate- I knew I had him wrapped around my finger.

I was only growing warmer, wetter. His muscles practically hypnotised me, his forearms tightening, displaying defined, wiry muscle and his thighs clenched under my palms, shifting and pulling as my lips sunk further along him.

His stomach twitched, his body betraying him as much as his voice that stuttered with praise.

"Jesus baby- honey- fuck- you look so beautiful right now, so fucking- uh Christ- so beautiful- shit." He mumbled half coherently, his hips rolling slowly. I let my eyes flicker to his, making them soft and deer like, he met my gaze and let me pull a sweet whimper out of him.

I'd never seen him so desperate, so shaky, even when we'd actually had sex, he wasn't so- pathetic. It made my stomach rev with want and lust.

"I'm so- I'm so- close, Clo- oh my God." His voice cracked and strained and rasped, his grip on my hair demonstrated his desperation. It felt natural now, him inching down my throat, his body stiffening and twisting and all but thrashing.

Then he came, a soft prayer of pleasure sliding from his lips, his best melody yet, half cry, half an attempt to speak my name.  His hands shook, his thighs shook, his voice shook, I smirked as I swallowed him, pulling back to look up at him with that faux innocence I knew he loved.

His cheeks were stained pink and his eyes hazy as he tried to catch his breath. I smiled as he dragged his thumb over my bottom lip, teasing my mouth open only to groan desperately when he saw I'd swallowed everything.

He was quick to pull his jeans back up, his eyes slowly regaining their sparkle. My skin erupted with goosebumps as he grabbed my arms, gently pulling me back into a standing position. He looked down at me, us now inches apart, his chest still racing to find breath, his eyes still glassy and soft.

"You're- like- insanely good at that- fuck." He chuckled and somehow his simplicity, the lack of elaborate metaphor, made me believe him more.

"Yeah?" I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. His brows jumped and his eyes rolled slightly as if in disbelief.

"Yeah." He smiled in confirmation, his desperate animal self retreating to be taken over by the goofier, softer, him.

"C'mere." He urged sweetly, wrapping his arms around me tightly. I chewed my bottom lip and hugged him back, listening to the strong thud of his pulse.

"You were so good, you make me feel so good. You're like no one else I've ever known, you make me feel free, Clodagh." He whispered, the words quiet as they dripped into my ear, a message so personal it wasn't even for the room, just me.

"We just seem to... fit." I murmured back, and he knew what I meant, we fit emotionally, we fit romantically and we fit sexually- so particularly well. He pulled back slightly, his hands still tight on my waist but his face now looking down at mine.

"Mmph you're going to end me, I can't get enough. We finish and there's a minute of clarity, of quiet- and then I want you again." He sighed as though he was helpless but he smiled at me as if there was no where he'd rather be.

Being close to Andrew was like standing on the edge of a nuclear reactor. Dangerous, enticing.

"And so now... Is it clarity? Or, is it want?" I asked, sin dancing across my face.

"Want, it's almost always want." He admitted, smiling broadly. His hands were now placed gently, cupping either side of my face, I could see the different planes of green in his eyes at this distance. So close.

I was the one to kiss him this time, our bodies crashing together in a joint surge. My back was soon pressed against the wall in the hallway, Andrew and I all but attacking each other.

I never felt the way I did with him at any other time. He made me feel important, as though we were the most colossal bodies- physical, celestial, spiritual, that exist, that have ever existed.

My breath is stolen by the awe, sucked into the warm envelope of his mouth. I suddenly felt like I could tell him anything, like I wanted to tell him everything. Sometimes all I could describe him as was a portal, shimmering, beautiful, and while never existing without a sense of danger- he always took me somewhere new. Or, if not new, then away.

I had no worries here about my fragmented friend group, about work, about family... It felt like heresy to worry, to dare let a single negative emotion present itself, while his lips were papering love letters to the hollow of my throat and his body was slowly guiding mine toward the next stop. Our bedroom.

I was sure later I would panic, later I would over analyse each moment of this, realising the magnitude of him, of us, was enough to crush me.

But it wasn't later, it was now and while he held me, touching, kissing and squeezing, like I was the first ripe fruit of the season, all I wanted was to go further, to go deeper.

I had the realisation that night that I would do everything in my power to figure him out, to see what made him tick, what made him scared, happy, obsessed. I wanted to know everything about him and his beautiful form felt like the most appropriate place to start.

He laid me on the bed still crushed from my nap and my heart felt like it might stop. We looked at each other for felt like an almost obscene amount of time, he rested himself between my legs with his hands either side of my shoulders and his hair falling like water around his face.

His presence was overwhelming, but not in the way I had assumed being close to him would feel. He was supposed to be untouchable, out of reach, the glossy image of a magazine or an emboldened figure shimmering under stage lights. Lying beneath him, so close to the spectacle that I could feel his breath on my face and his torso between my thighs,  I realised he wasn't really like that. Not entirely, not really. He was heavy and warm and real.

It was scary how quickly my pulse adjusted to his rhythm. Every part of me wanted to capture this moment, hold it in memory- the locks of his brown hair that tickled my cheek, the warm shadow of his stubbly beard, the way his lips parted as if he were about to speak but thought he better not.

I told myself this was just infatuation, that this feeling, like he was drowning me and resurrecting me all at once, I wasn't falling, it was too soon.

"Kiss me." He murmured, papering the pad of his thumb to my cheek and watching me as though I was a meal and he was a starving man. I nodded slowly, angling my face upward until our lips met.

I could kiss him forever.

His hands traveled my body, soaring over plains and divots and bulges, he was greedy down to his core.

"You are so beautiful I'm still not sure if this is real." He murmured before putting his lips to work on my neck, kissing and sucking and letting his stubble force blooms of goosebumps across my skin.

My pelvis was getting warmer and warmer as he lazily kissed whatever bare skin he could find. By the time those lips made it back up to mine, his left knee was pressed between my legs.

It was unconscious the way my hips rolled, feeling the warm budding of my flesh rubbing against his thigh. His mouth fell open at the sound of a soft whine emanating from me. His brows were furrowed as we started to move together, my body desperate to use his.

"Fuck Andrew..." I mumbled, my back arching and my hands curling into fists in his linen shirt. He looked down at me for a moment with that disbelieving glance before he kissed me again.

It wasn't long before his fingers made quick work of my slip and I was naked below him. I'd never get sick of the look he gave every time he saw me bare, his brows would flatten smoothly, his eyes glazed and searching, his lips parted... He made me celestial with no more than a glance.

This couldn't be good for me. I knew that.
In my heart of hearts I knew that when this fell apart, and it would, I would be ruined.

But paradoxically, in my heart of hearts, I didn't care.

———
Andrew

The air of LA smelled different than home. I usually hated the damp old smell of Ireland but there was a green crispness to the air at home that always instilled some calm in me. Here the air was so warm it felt like inhaling soup.

The city splayed itself out before me I sat on one of the dark linen sun lounges on the deck. It was 3Am, an hour or two before I usually went to sleep, Clodagh was inside, her naked body pressed into the sheets of what- for a week or two, would be our bed, that we shared.

It still felt surreal that Clodagh had made the transition from that sweet friend, with the beautiful eyes and the soft brown lips to a lover, where she gave me all of her for the small price of all of me.

I had fallen asleep alongside her around 11 after we exhausted ourselves exploring each other, it was incredibly out of character to see me asleep before 4AM but she seemed to be changing me in ways I didn't fully understand.

When I'd woken up to see her sleeping beside me, I'd been immediately bombarded with far too many thoughts to fall back asleep. Most of them were about how beautiful she was, how surreal it was that she laid beside me, how unsettling my persistent want for her was. She hadn't relented. She hadn't offered me a moment of peace since I met her.

When I didn't know what she looked like, when she was no more but an Instagram account, I was already hooked. Then I saw her, and she was beautiful in a way I'd never seen, in a way I didn't quite understand. I knew other people saw it too. She was proof of a very simple sentiment; people like to look at pretty things. I always picked up on it, on the way people always look at her first when they enter a room, or the way people would strain to look at her in public.

I wondered if everyone else saw her the way I did, if everyone else saw her and felt breathless.

"Andy?"

My heart jumped just hearing my name in her sweet mouth. I turned my head as though she pulled it toward her herself, my eyes shone up at hers. She was wearing a big t-shirt now, the brim of some old navy shorts peeked out the bottom.

"Hey." I murmured, it seemed like the only response I could muster as I watched her pad barefoot across the deck. She folded her soft body into the lounger next to me, tucking her knees up and curling her arms around them.

I liked seeing her like this, fresh from sleep, lazing in her pyjamas, it was vulnerable and tonight, it was only for me.

"I do not envy your insomnia." She told me, I hadn't really ever told her I had insomnia. I hadn't really accepted myself that my sleeping patterns aligned with insomnia, but she right, as she usually was.

I shrugged, pushing my hair behind my ear.

"The night air usually helps."

"Mm?" She probed, so easily pulling more from me.

"I like the night, it's just for me, it's quiet." I elaborated, though not much. She nodded slowly, always able to make me feel listened to.

"Do you like it here?" She probed, resting her soft jaw on her palm. I smiled, it was a more difficult question than either of us knew.

"It's good for work but it's not home, y'know? What about you?" I asked, already sick of the sound of my voice when I could be listening to the sound of hers.

"Mmmm I mean this house and the airport have been thrilling like- but I feel my final opinion will have to wait until I've seen some more of the city." She chuckled, the sound was like- her laughter, there was really nothing to compare it to that would do it justice.

"What would you like to see?" I asked her, remembering her request for a day, planned by me. Of course, I already had an itinerary for that day basically finished, but perhaps she'd enlighten me.

"I've already seen what I came for." She told me, her eyes sparkled so delightfully under the warm deck lights I was almost certain she had to have used some kind of eyedrops.

"And that is?" I asked, knowing the answer, or at least hoping I did- but being self indulgent enough to want it from her tongue anyway.

Of course, as per usual, she didn't oblige me. Instead, those moony eyes rolled and her lips curled into an unimpressed smirk.

"The weird UFO building of LAX obviously." She said, nodding seriously. I shook my head as though disappointed but the grin on my face gave me away.

"Sure like, may as well go home then, see it a second time." I teased, watching her suck her teeth and nod before pulling back with a nonchalant shrug.

"I mean, I've seen it once, I'll inevitably see it again when I leave, why rush it?" She asked smoothly, now unfolding her legs and straightening them, resting her crossed ankles on the wooden table before us.

"Is it insomnia? Is that why you're out here?" She asked me this question as if the moment hadn't already passed.

"Yes and no. I don't usually sleep until around 4." I began, watching her slowly smirk.

"Mm you passed out pretty damn quick." She said, half teasing, half proud. I cleared my throat, I was just a flesh and blood man after all.

"You tired me out." I accused, biting back a smile. She nodded very earnestly in response.

"You're right, I mean I'm so sorry Andy. You're here for producers too, probably best we don't sleep together again- for the sake of your work." She said with faux but demure concern. My throat tightened, it was a joke, I knew this, but now that I'd had her- I couldn't cope with not having her again. Her touch flooded my mind every second these days.

"I actually think my work benefits very deeply the more sex we have." I argued, which was of course true. It was far easier to write about the depth of love, of obsession, of the more animal of the human emotions- when I had her to picture.

She made it feel like I'd never felt lust or want or love before.

"Oh well in that case..." She giggled, turning her head to look out over the city. We quickly settled into a comfortable silence, I counted her breaths and noted that while she couldn't take her eyes off the view, I couldn't take my eyes off her.

I was outraged and almost infuriated when the time I was spending to admire her was interrupted by my phone, buzzing incessantly on the table.

Shit. I forgot I'd told Mum I was going to call her.

Clodagh looked at me and then my phone.

"I think it's Ma." I explained, watching her face paper smoothly with recognition.

"Of course, answer it. I should probably head inside and call James anyway." She responded, standing up and squeezing my arm.

"And your parents?" I regretted the question as soon as I'd asked it. Clodagh had never mentioned much or really anything about her family outside of James. I suppose the curiosity had gotten to me.

Clodagh gave me a look she hadn't given me before- almost one of betrayal before she wished me a quiet goodbye and went inside.

"Ehm, night Andrew."

Notes:

Next chapter this trip really starts to kick off :)))))

Let me know what you thought of the chapter.