Escaping Grace

WHAT KEPT BUZZING?!
I raised my head off the pillow blearily, sunlight painfully streaming in from the windows that I had neglected to cover last night when we'd staggered in.
Bzzzzzzzzzz.
Bees again?
No, I turned my head and squinted.
Cell phone. But not mine.
"Andy," I flailed my hand over, smacking him in the chest until he woke up. "Something keeps buzzing."
"Unf," was his only response, face down in the pillow, which was smeared with the blue paint that had been in his hair.
Ugh.
I rolled over and crawled over his chest, seeing it was his phone buzzing from where I had fished it from his pocket and sat it last night.
In fact, no one had any idea how hard it was to get combat boots and skinny jeans off a lax body.
"Hello?" I answered his phone when it didn't stop.
"Du --- Leah? Are you sick?"
I squinted at the name on the phone.
"Ashley? Why are you calling? What do you want?"
"Holy shit, you have a hangover." Why did he sound excited? "That's how badass Olis parties are. How was it? Did he do the paint splatter?"
"Why the fuck didn't you warn us about the paint?"
"Haha! It washes out, don't worry," I could literally hear his glee. "I told Andy you guys would have fun. Where is he?"
"Um," I looked down at the corpse I was sprawled over. "He's asleep."
"Well, it's only 2. I should have figured."
"Only 2?" my head turned to the clock. It was after 2 in the afternoon.
"Yep. Bet Oli kept you guys up till 9, am I right?"
I sighed, leaning up. "Was there a point in calling, Ashley? I need a shower."
"Oh, right," his excruciatingly chipper voice continued. "I needed to talk to Andy about some studio stuff. Normally, it could wait, but its kind of important."
I looked at Andy. "Like right now?" I nudged him.
. "Preferably."
I pursed my lips. "Um. How about I have him call you back?" I asked, crawling to my feet. "I'll have to wake him up somehow."
I staggered to the bathroom, and started to fill one of the ice buckets full of water.
"See, what we normally do is throw him out of bed. Generally the fall will do it."
I grunted in response, dragging the bucket of water to the bed.
"I have my own tactics," I muttered, hefting the bucket up. I propped the phone between my ear and shoulder, and then poured the ice cold water over him.
They had no idea how many times I'd woke Nate up.
Andy yelled, sputtering as he rose out of bed in panic.
"Well, he's awake now. You still wanna talk?" I asked dryly as he spewed cuss words that would cause a nun to have a heart attack.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" he bellowed. I grinned, and then handed him the phone. "Ashley wants to talk stuff."
"What?' he stared at the phone in his hand in confusion. I left him to talk.
I grabbed some clothes and headed for the bathroom. I turned on the hot water, ignoring the mirror. I could feel dried paint in my hair, and all.over my skin, and i felt ultimately gross.
After I shed Andys t shirt, I stepped into the shower, beyond ready to be clean again. I washed my hair quickly, and glanced over as the door opened.
"Did you get your talk out?" I called over the water.
"Yeah. I think Ashley was more wanting to see how the party went then anything business," I chuckled, knowing he rolled his eyes.
I turned as he stepped into the shower a few minutes later.
"You look like Da Vinci threw up on you," I smiled up at him.
"Like you looked any better." he reached over my head for the shampoo.
"You couldn't have waited until I got out?"
"You're not the only one who likes to be clean, babe."
I rolled my eyes, and reached for a wash cloth, getting all the paint off my skin that I could.
Ugh, it was everywhere.
"Here," Andy took my cloth and rubbed at my shoulder.
"Wow, this stuff really stains your skin."
"As long as it doesn't my clothes."
Andy gave a half-grin, the smiley face still there, even though he'd scrubbed it off.
"So it does stain really bad," I agreed, trying to rub it off. Andy chuckled, and leaned down to give me a quick kiss.
"You missed some," he scrubbed at my shoulder.
"Yeah, its not coming off any time soon," I sighed. "I wish someone would have warned us."
"You had fun, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Then don't grumble, babe."
"I wasn't grumbling," I wiped at his chest. "It was really fun."
"Mhmhmm. Even the hangover?"
"It's not near as bad as what yours should be, " I told him, "You went hardcore for a while there. Do you know how hard it is to undress your unconscious ass?"
"Probably as hard as getting this paint off," he replied. I chuckled, and then went to step around him to grab a towel.
"You still missed some."
"Where?" I glanced at myself.
Andy rubbed at my hip, but the blue stain only spread.
"That's not making it any better," I grumbled.
"I could always kiss it and make it better."
"This one time, probably not."
"You wound me." he faked hurt. "My feelings!"
"What feelings?" I snorted, pushing down the memory of last night before it had a full chance to resurface.
"THESE feelings," he pulled me against him, and his teeth tugged on my lower lip. "And these," he nibbled his way down my neck. "And some here," his fingers brushed my lower back.
"So many feelings you have, Mr. Biersack," I swallowed, my hands resting lightly on his ribs.
Either we were going to have shower sex (mind-blowing I might add), he was going to drive me crazy until we ended up back in bed, or he was going to profess his literal feelings for me and I would have a heart attack because I was so not ready for that kind of hardcore relationship, and I know how I already felt about him and if he felt the same way then it would be even more complicated and I was not equipped for stressful situations involving feelings and ---.
"Leah, stop thinking."
I blinked up at him. "What?"
"You have your run-on sentence thinking in panic face on. What is it?" he was frowning down at me in concern, the hot water rushing down his shoulders onto my skin.
"Er, nothing important." I looked down at his chest.
Why did he only want to have serious conversations in the shower?
"Are we doing this again?" he locked his fingers behind my back. "Because you're not leaving this shower unless you tell me."
Eh.
Well.
"Um, I was just ---," What the hell was I just? I didn't want him to know I was panicking because he'd said he loved me, if he even remembered. He'd been so drunk he couldn't even count to three. Of course, I was probably blowing this completely put of proportion and he totally could have meant it in a 'hey, I love you, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm IN love with you, capiche?' type of way, not that I was ever going to bring it up ever again or even acknowledge that it had happened because ---.
"Leah," Andy tilted my face up. "What's bothering you?"
Erm
. "Do you remember anything from last night?" I asked, anxiously biting my lip.
"Um," Andys brow furrowed. "I remember up until you left. Something about being a fish?"
So he didn't remember.
I felt a little relieved; I shouldn't, but I did. Being in love with someone was one thing, but them loving you back? Scary. I was hardly ready for the relationship with him now, let alone the other issues that came with professing love.
"Did I do something?" Andy asked a little worriedly.
"What? No," I smiled, and wrapped my arms around him. "You're perfect."

Notes

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