Andrew never was one to beg for a woman. If she said no, that’s that.

But you came in and swept his lanky ass off his feet. The only problem was… You were a hookup.

He’d dreamt of you nearly every night for the past week. You were driving him insane and you didn’t know it. He was scared to say anything because he knew you and you knew him. Your hookup was more like a rendezvous. He could call you… but he didn’t want to seem desperate.

So instead, he suffered for the next week. Dreaming about you each night (and day), not being able to do anything without somehow correlating it to you. Thinking about how you like your coffee while he’s making his, the clothes you like seeing him in were the ones he constantly wore. Christ, he was gone.

He didn’t know what you’d say. You’ve said a lot of things to him before. But those were things said at night in the sheets with him. Things you said in the heat of the moment and probably didn’t mean. The night was meant for words you didn’t mean.

He got pretty damn well drunk last night and he woke up to a pounding in his head, not remembering anything from the night before. He let out a sigh and reached over to his bedside table for his phone, checking for notifications to find several missed calls from you. He nearly had a heart attack. He’d never sat up so fast and now he was lightheaded. he frantically called you back and let the phone ring. Three agonizing trills before he heard you fumbling with the phone on the other end, then he heard your breathing. He felt his throat go dry, though he still took in a deep swallow

He finally spoke, he couldn’t care less about how raspy his voice was… he just wanted to say something,

“Hey… Ehm- hi…”

He mentally smacks himself for how stupid he probably sounded right now… but nonetheless, he waited for you to talk back.