His bed was cold when he woke up. He had expected it to be heated by your body, being able to roll over and bury his nose into your neck and give you small kisses. Whisper sweet nothings into your ear. But you were already gone, like some quick memory. It was always that way with you.

Andrew always wanted you, and only you. But apparently you didn’t feel the same. You never liked the idea of being tied down to a relationship. So you and him were just some kind of ‘friends with benefits’ thing. He wanted the simple things with you. To wake up next to you and have a slow morning, make breakfast in the kitchen or slow dance in the living room, but those were fantasies, of course.

He reluctantly pulls himself out of bed to get his day started. Only to find you had left your jumper. Probably in your hurry to leave. He debated texting you, though quickly abandoned that idea, knowing you wouldn’t respond. You never did after things like these.

So, he made the decision any other sane person would make… go to your house and give it to you personally. Of course, when he got in the car and was already halfway to your house, he finally realized what he was doing was absolutely fucking crazy. But he couldn’t really go back now. Once he was there, he gave a tentative knock at your door, sitting for a moment while he heard shuffling in your house and the distinct bark of your dog. Then, you finally opened the door, eyes widening,

“Andrew… what- what are you doing here?” You ask, your brows furrowing a bit,

“I- you left your jumper this morning… I figured I should give it back…” He shrugs, holding the jumper out for you to take.

You take it your cheeks reddening for whatever reason, “Right.. well.. thanks.” You say quickly, going to close the door before he gently puts his hand to it to stop you,

“Wait, ehm- can.. can we talk?”