Demons

I was still slouched awkwardly in the passenger seat when the car came to a halt. None of the passing scenery had been familiar to me at all - a feat practically impossible since I knew the city like the back of my hand. Through hooded eyelids I gazed upon a large brick-building in front of us. It was tinted by a warm sandy color with systematically placed windows. Off to the side was a set of double doors made of glass, a telecom-system perched on the wall beside it. An apartment building.

Andy exited the car first before walking to the passenger side and opening the door for me in a chivalrous manner. A faint blush tainted my cheeks, and I willed it down as I got out on shaky knees. “Come on, let’s get you inside,” he murmured as he slid a long arm around my waist to steady me. Before long we were in the hall of a massive apartment. The air was thick with his familiar scent, and it washed over me in a warm, comforting wave. A large archway led into the living room with polished floors and cream walls. A giant flat screen took up most of the space on one wall, while the others were littered with framed pictures of celebrities, vinyl records and even the odd autograph. Andy led me to a plush couch facing the TV, where I slouched myself into a comfortable position, resting my head on the armrest and stretching my short legs as far as they could. He left the room for an unknown reason while I was still marveling at the beauty of what I figured was his home.

When he returned I was on the brink of sleep, and summoned all the strength in my body to sit up, but he placed his hand on my shoulder and applied slight pressure, telling me to lie back down. “Here you go,” he said, handing me a can of Coke. “I figure it’s your blood sugar. Drink up.” I eyed the can wearily, conducting a quick headcount of the amount of calories I would have to burn if I did drink it, and after a few moments I decided it wasn’t worth it. The feeling had to go away eventually. So, as politely as I could, I declined, handing it back to him. “Um, no thank you. I… I’m on a diet.” I smiled sheepishly, but it quickly faded as his brow lowered in confusion. “But, uh… I’ll have a diet coke?” I tried, although the offer sounded idiotic even to my own ears. He raised an eyebrow. “But the whole point of it is that it contains sugar. Come on, one soda won’t throw you off your diet. Not that you need a diet anyways,” he added, still attempting to pass the can into my hands. “No, really, I don’t want it.”

I was getting stubborn, and I knew it, but I couldn't help it. Even the mere thought of ingesting so many calories in such a small portion was daunting. And he was getting frustrated, too. “Seriously, you have to drink it. You’re shaking like a leaf, for fuck’s sake!” His raised voice made me flinch, but I reminded myself that this wasn’t Nick - this was Andy. I clenched my jaw and uttered resolutely: “I said no.” We were staring defiantly into each other’s eyes, both daring the other to break, but none of us did. The deadly quiet surrounding us was thick and tangible, and I was getting frustrated with myself, for I found my resolve weakening. And my traitorous bottom lip was trembling. “Please… Please don’t make me drink it,” I whispered. Andy’s expression softened, morphing into a mask of worry. An expression I had seen far too many times recently for my own liking.

He climbed onto the sofa and sat by my feet, facing me with his legs tucked underneath him. His face held an unnerving seriousness, unfamiliar on his usually carefree face. “Do you…” His question trailed off as he hung is head, clearly rephrasing the unspoken question in his mind. I observed him nervously, quiet, as I steeled my nerves. With my friends I could brush them off, or go to a different room or ignore them completely. But not with Andy. He had already been too insistent. “Do you not… want to eat? Or drink?” he asked finally, raising his head to capture my eyes in a tight grip. A thick lump formed in my throat at the question, but I swallowed it down with force. “Of course I do. I just… I just don’t want to gain weight, you know? I want to lose weight. And so far, this strategy has been pretty effective.” A pathetic resemblance of a chuckle died in my throat - nothing I could do or say at the moment would ease the gravity of the situation.

The corners of his mouth were tugged into a frown that marred his beautiful features. His fingers played loosely with the can still held between his hands, tapping impatiently against the metal lid. “But look at you right now. You’re not - it’s not good for you,” he replied ruefully. Once again, my jaw clenched tightly as I turned my gaze towards the ceiling - his gaze being far too intense. “You know,” he began, lightly tapping my leg to gain my attention, “maybe this is a talk for another time.” My neck could have snapped with the speed of which I tilted my head down. I wouldn’t have taken Andy for one to let up so easily, but made no move to question the matter. “But please just take a sip of this. Or two. I know you don’t want to, and I don’t want to force you, but it helps. And then we can do something fun, okay? Watch a movie or something.”

His deep voice resembled a plea, and that was the moment where the last of my weakened resolve crumbled. I nodded stiffly. “Alright,” I mumbled, and Andy’s lips tightened into a small smile. With hesitance I took a small sip. The sweet liquid was something I’d missed terribly, and I had almost drunk half the can by the time sense was knocked back into me. I desperately pushed the soda back into Andy’s hands as though it was poisonous and sunk my teeth into my lower lip to distract myself from the taste. No. It was bad for me. But to my surprise, the trembles began to fade into near-nothingness, and the nausea subsided. Andy, sensing my malaise, placed the offending can on the floor by the couch. “Thank you,” he said. Desperate to avoid the impending awkward silence, I said: “Movie?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Within seconds I was kneeling before his glossy, overflowing cabinet stocked with movies from every era and genre. It was nothing short of impressive. The first thing that caught my eye was a shelf dedicated entirely to the Batman-films and corresponding trinkets. They ranged from the very early films to the newer ones by Christopher Nolan. Underneath was a shelf filled with every single Disney-movie ever made, arranged in order as well. I smirked. The thought of Andy sitting alone and shedding a tear at The Lion King was absolutely hilarious. But the movie I chose was one that was lying at the very bottom of the cabinet, seemingly collecting dust. 10 Things I Hate About You - one of my favorites.

“Oh my God, can we please watch this?” I begged, clutching the DVD in a tight grip. Andy raised an amused eyebrow at my choice, but agreed with no objections. I quickly slid the disc into the player and got comfortable on the couch, consciously keeping a foot’s distance between the two of us to make it less awkward. 20 minutes or so into the movie, at the point where Joey was trying to convince Patrick to take Kat out on a date, Andy cleared his throat, successfully gaining my attention. “I’m sorry I kissed you in the parking lot,” he said sheepishly, seemingly uncomfortable judging by the way he rubbed the back of his neck. His apology was completely unexpected, and I flushed in embarrassment. “Oh, that’s… Well, it’s fine,” I chuckled half-heartedly, although deep down I was curious. “But, why did you do it?”

He swallowed thickly. “I just… You’re so fucking sweet and adorable (cue another wave of white-hot blush) and I can’t help but think about the kiss we shared when we were drunk, all the time. And I was so mad that we weren’t sober when we did it, ‘cause I couldn’t remember the taste of your lips or the softness of your skin. And then you left my car, but your scent still lingered and I just… couldn’t control myself, I guess.” He chuckled awkwardly. “And I had to see for myself if you’re actually as perfect as I thought you were that night.” You could hear a pin drop at the end of his exclamation, and I was pretty sure my skin was on fire. It was surreal. Andy did not just admit his crush on me. I was probably suffering from some kind of heat-stroke, and I sharply pinched my arm to verify the authenticity of the situation. But the pain was real. Andy was real. And this moment was real.

Notes