Andy was sweet. The possible psycho killer in a slasher film, but would still do your eyeliner for you kind of sweet.

You were Ashley's little sister, and despite having Ashley as your older brother, that meant you were forcibly brought around the band so much that you became the unofficial member of BVB. So, Andy had you play the fallen angel girl in the music videos and had you do some theatrical shit with him on stage occasionally.

And while you didn't know your place amongst the rockstars the world currently hated, Andy knew how to guide you. A hand on your lower back in the bar, the hands holding your face as he did your makeup. He knew damn well you could take care of yourself. Your older brother was Ashley, and that meant that you were a spitfire by proxy. Hell, you barely let guys hit on you without you throwing a right hook. But around Andy? You turned into this soft spoken, sweet little thing who led him around on a metaphorical leash.

He had this dangerous quality to him. This weird look in his bright blue eyes that made it hard to tell when he was joking when he was threatening people. The way he got into fights and egged people on, or the glares he would shoot that felt like daggers.

It was raining tonight.

The bus was dimly lit, the heated blanket on max and Sweeny Todd playing on the TV. He still hadn't taken his makeup off yet, leaving him looking like a sulking vampire on the couch.

When you finally came over to him, he nudged you to stand between his legs. Andy rested his forehead against your sternum, his hands resting gently on your hips as he closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath.

Though he was affectionate with you, he was never this foward. It was strange, coming from him. His flirting felt like death threats but his voice was so soft and fucking low when it was just you two alone.