The Summer Job ~ Andy Biersack *Completed

--Baylie's POV--

"Hm?" I questioned. "How so?" I didn't think Andy liked me at all. He had never been suttle about his distaste for me, either. He'd always gone out of his way to make my life as miserable as possible, whether it be waiting until it was raining to send me out on an errand or stack on chore after chore and scream at me for not finishing it fast enough. "I've never seen him watch someone the way he watches you...Like he's trying to understand you. And I've never seen him so afraid of someone as he is you." She said. I snorted. "Him? Afraid of me?" She laughed along a little, but nodded. "Yes. He is certainly over-controlling to the rest of us, but he seems to be twice as much with you. He doesn't know you well and he's afraid you'll ruin his schedule and order, I suppose. And the night of the party, oh I heard about that from the maids. He was furious, and merely at the idea of someone laying a finger on you!" She said. I blushed, but didn't believe it. He had a wife and, besides, people like him seem much to cold to love anyone at all. There was silence for a bit. "May I ask," I finally said, biting my lip. "Who is Andy's wife?" My eyes flickered to Celia's tired eyes. She tensed. "Oh, that woman...Joan..." She said in a hushed tone, as if someone was watching her. "She's a strange woman. Very protective of Andy, but not in a good way. Why, just a little girl came knocking on the door selling cookies the other day and Joan was convinced Andy had been cheating on her...She's an actress, and not very successful, so rumor has it she married Andy to help her career." Celia said. I nodded. "You steer clear of her," She continued quietly. "If she sees a pretty young girl like you around here who knows what she'll--" Celia was interpeted by a loud knock on the door. "Oh!" She exclaimed quietly. "That must be him!" She unfolded her legs and went to open the door. "Just a moment! I was simply bringing Abigail here her dinner." She said, pretending as if she was busy. I watched the door carefully, wondering what on earth he could be wanting of me.

Celia opened the door and Andy stepped in, looking down at her and raising a brow. "Shoo." He said to her in the same tone you'd say to a fly at a picnic. She just nodded and hurried out, leaving Andy and I in the room together. I tensed as he walked towards the bed I was laying on, my back against the headboard and my legs flat in front of me. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and didn't say a word for a moment. "I'm sorry for my shortness earlier, however..." He clutched his stomach as he stretched an uncomfortable way, and my mind flew back to the purple bruise he'd shown me a few weeks ago. "Joan is a very unpredictable woman. I'm not sure what she intends to do about you, but I'm trying to stop her." He said. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Is she gonna like, kill me?" He laughed slightly at my reponse, and a strange feeling in my chest erupted. "No no, just...damage you. I'm sure I can mislead her, you just shouldn't be seen around anything that means to much to you for a little while. She'll notice and find some way to have it removed."

Then why am I here, I thought.

I subconsiously scolded myself for that thought, I didn't care about this place. Or Andy. He was just some rude asshole who was 'fascinated,' as Celia put it, by me. Probably a pedo. Creep. I nodded quietly. "Why do you two stay together?" I asked, although I knew it was a rude and childish thing to say. He chuckled to himself and I sat up, interested. "We're humans." He answered, an amused expression on his face. "What do you mean?" I asked, intrigued. He shrugged. "Humans are naturally hoarders. They cling to things and eventually lose interest, but they just can't bring themselves to get rid of it." He said thoughtfully. I looked around the room at the array of clocks and paintings. Perhaps these were all things he hoarded too. "So...why does she care about you so much if she doesn't love you?" I asked, testing Celia's words. "Don't you think it's my turn to ask you a question?" He said. I blushed slightly and nodded. "Your mother," he began, scooting himself over to me so he was more comfortable. "Was she ever married?" I winced at the personal question. "Y-Yeah." I said awkwardly, not really continuing. It was something my mother rarely spoke about, but I knew she still cried about it and it still racked her mind every day. She was so full of regret. "And?" He asked, laying on his side and propping his head up with his hand. "He died when I was in highschool." I finished for him. He nodded and shifted positions. "What about your parents?" I asked, changing the subject. "They must be proud." How could they not be, I mean, he had a huge Manor and a successful company. He probably went to a fancy preppy college and was an ass to all of the younger kids but got away with it cause he was rich.

"They both died when I was young."

Oh. I was taken aback slightly, and almost dared to ask him how. "I-I'm sorry." I said quietly. My problems suddenly seemed very small to Andy's, although I knew mine were just as real as his.

--Andy's POV--

"It's okay." I said. "Not your fault. Anyways, it's my turn." I said. I thought for a moment. I wanted to get to know her. I wanted to know her quirks and habits and her funny fears. I wanted her. "Name three things you couldn't live without." I said cooly, my voice masking the emotions circulating just beneath my skin. I wanted her. I wanted her touch and her voice and I wanted to feel her. "Hmm..." She said thoughtfully. I don't even remember how we got to playing the game, I was just happy we were talking. "Do you mean like, food and water and sleep or...music and art and stuff?" She asked cutely. "Like, things you don't need but you want." I said.

--Baylie's POV--

He seemed so human right now; so down to earth and normal. Not like he usually was. He was in the same state he'd been in the morning he showed me his bruise and he taunted me about 'fucking' as he'd so kindly put it. I thought for a minute. "Probably...Showers, music, and rain." I answered. He made a small noise. "Rain?" He asked. I nodded. "I love the rain." I said. "Then I'm sure you loved the trip here." He commented sarcastically. I gave him a dirty look. I shifted my gaze to one of the many clocks alining the walls. 9:18. I tensed, thinking of my mother all by herself. "What?" Andy asked, picking up on my expression. "Nothing," I said, looking away from the clock and back to him. I smiled lightly.

" Just thinking. Where's Joan?"

"Her house."

"You two don't live together?"

"No, of course not! She only comes over Thursdays and early Friday."

"Oh."

It was quiet for a bit.

"So, how'd you get that bruise?" I finally asked.

"Boxing." He answered non-chalantly. I snorted.

"Boxing?"

"Mhm."

When I looked at Andy, I didn't see a boxer. He was tall and thin, and his face didn't have any of the disfigurements you'd see on a scarred boxer. "How's it healing?" I asked. He lifted his shirt up a little so I could see the small purple mark. Most of it was gone. "It doesn't hurt." He said. I brought my hand to it and gently traced over the purple shading. I noticed a tattoo peeking out from under his shirt and curiously skimmed up his stomach to meet the line. He lifted his shirt slightly so I could see it. It was a clock, and perched on the big hand was a raven. I didn't ask anything of it, I just traced it's shape and the small details of the bird's feathers with my fingers. It was beautiful. As I reached further up his chest, I noticed a large white scar running from his shoulder to his collarbone. I took a mental note of it and continued to inspect his tattoos curiously. Suddenly, Andy rolled over atop me and bit my bottom lip hungrily, his head dipping down while his arms braced himself above me. My eyes were wide open as I tried to process what was happening. My mind was spinning so fast I could barely think. He seperated from my lips for a moment to breathe, and I heard his rushed inhale. This time, I felt the warmth of his lips just under my ear and down my neck. "I-," I stuttered, my senses slowly coming back to me. He breathed heavily and I felt his cigarette-stained exhale up and down my neck. He brought his face to meet mine, and I stared into the electricity of his blue eyes. "Andy," I whispered, out of breathe, having nothing to say other than that. "Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight?" He whispered hoarsely, his hair falling in his face. I gulped and shook my head. The truth was, I didn't mind. That was all completely wrong; he's married, I'm 17, we just met. But the thing is, that was beautiful. I'd never felt so excited; so free, than I had in that moment. It was as if my skin had left my body and all that was left was what I wanted to do. No restrictions, no morals, just...this wonderful feeling in the pit of my stomach. It made me want to run and jump and smile.

Andy left me for a little while and the entire time I couldn't stop smiling. I was ecstatic for no reason. But perhaps I shouldn't be. That was wrong. Dirty. Bad. I did something bad. Something stupid. The feeling turned bad quickly, like an apple turning brown in the sun. I tried to push it away, to bring back the amazing emotions before, but they were gone. Suddenly, the door opened and my thoughts were gone. The only thing important to me at that moment was who was behind that door.

Andy walked in, his hair wet from a shower. A towel was tied around his waist and water dripped down his abs. He had another, smaller towel in his hands and was drying his hair. I flicked my eyes down to his stomach. Amongst the dark purple bruise were the prominent ridges of his six pack. I would believe, now, that Andy was a boxer. My eyes traveled up to his arms, and his calloused hands and cut-up knuckles. He looked at me and laughed slightly, throwing his towel on the nightstand and letting his hair fall on his face. "What're you staring at?" He asked humorously. "Nothing." I blushed, pulling myself under the covers. The sour feeling in my stomach dissapeared and the excitement returned. He crawled in next to me. I was freezing cold; I swear Andy was coldblooded. He kept the house 50° and hardly had any blankets. "You're a stupid girl, you know." He commented seriously. I shut my eyes and sighed, but felt suddenly as heat moved towards me. His arm wrapped around my chest and pulled me towards him. I tensed and inhaled shakily. My eyes opened to see his tattooed hand in front of my face, and I felt a great sense of completion upon the affection touch. I realized then that...I missed that feeling. I missed touch. I turned inwards to face his chest and he tightened his grip slightly. I didn't know what I was doing and I was sure I'd regret it later, but it felt so right.

So right.

Notes

Hey! So, what do you guys think of Andy shoeing his affection for Baylie? Do you think it's right? And what is Joan gonna do?