Something was different. Either you were losing feelings, or, god forbid, seeing somebody else. But Andrew knew something was wrong.

Kisses contained barely a semblance of passion, physical touch became a rare occurrence. He’d be lucky if he even managed to get a smile out of you some days.

Andrew trusted you. He really did. Though at what point does trust become meaningless hope?

Today had been a long day. Andrew had just gotten home from the studio to the smell of dinner in the oven with you leaned against the kitchen counter, phone in hand. He wanted nothing more than to just soak up your warmth, to let all his worries fade. Just like he used to.

However, upon him wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, you couldn’t even spare him a mere glance, let alone a ‘hey, babe’.

“C’mon, please don’t be like that.” Andrew pleads, resting his chin upon your shoulder, taking in the floral scent of your hair.

“Just tell me you love me… please…?”