ANOTHER chapter and it hasn't even been a year?? a miracle,,, here's chapter 7 😏
Neil Josten is on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, curled up in a distinctly wary way as he adjusts to the brightness. His shoulders are hunched, legs pulled up to his chest, and as his hand falls from his face, Andrew can see his eyes seem hunted.
The look drains a little from him as he meets Andrew’s gaze, his frame sagging more than relaxing. “Andrew.”
Neil let his head fall into a palm with a ragged sigh. “Fuck, I didn’t know it was you. It was locked, I — I thought it was —”
He cuts himself off and looks back up, abashed, like he’s just realized he’s speaking aloud to someone. “I don’t know,” he finishes lamely, suddenly guarded. “Why are you here?”
Andrew closes the door and leans back against it, sealing away more noise, though the chatter and music still seep through some. “Renee. Why are you?”
Neil laughs sourly. “Allison thought I should come and ‘try to make some new friends.’ Like I could ever do that.”
“No, why are you here?” Andrew opens his palms to the room — a sparse one, but the bed is made with nice sheets, one of the fancy looking curtains slightly pulled up to barely let in a sliver of moonlight. He can tell Reynolds brought him to this party even if he hadn’t been told multiple times — Neil’s maroon button up, rolled up to his elbows, and his dark jeans that don’t drag baggily around his ankles broadcast that easily enough.
Andrew still hates Reynolds, but fuck if she doesn’t know how to dress Neil. Andrew can’t stand that color on him, with his pale eyes, or the cut of it all actually fitted to his body — it’s distracting as hell.
Neil looks at him, rubbing his arm. “There were too many people.”
Andrew is begrudgingly impressed. Neil’s a very good liar.
He pushes off the door to approach, and Neil tenses the slightest bit. Andrew didn’t intend to push any boundaries, so his original path to perch on the edge of the bed’s side table is halted early, placing him simply idling at the foot of the bed. He loops a hand around a low bedpost. “There’s only two now. And yet, you still jump.”
Hop, hop, like an anxious rabbit, heart about to burst.
