Written out for iseefearinyoureyeshuman on tumblr. A sort of sequel to If you love her (let her go). I think they're a bit OOC in this. Also, I couldn't fit it in but imagine that in the middle they dance to I'm On Top Of The World by Imagine Dragons.
How did it come to this? I don't even ship them.
Three weeks. He only lasted three weeks (and two days).
After he had told Frankie how he felt about her, Andy had resolved not to mention it again, not to make things awkward, not to change how he acted at all. Their friendship was the dearest thing to him, so he did not want to mess that up or make Frankie uncomfortable. Ever since he had tried to ask her on a date the first day they met, only to discover she was already in a relationship, he had been able to hide his blossoming love for her. He should be able to carry on doing that. Right?
Except. If she came back from a visit dejected, he wanted to kiss her. If she arrived at work dishevelled, he wanted to brush the flyaway hairs into submission. If they laughed together, he would feel a guilty flash of arousal as she giggled. He was terrified of letting her see the longing glances he gave her.
Three weeks and two days after his declaration, he asked Frankie for dinner at his little flat. It was not until she had accepted and he was standing in his living room waiting for her to finish her last visit before she arrived that he realised she had never been to his flat.
Nerves jangling now, he flitted around trying to tidy up a bit, grabbing an armful of clothes from the clothes horse and taking them upstairs to dump in his wardrobe, digging the TV remote out from between the sofa cushions.
He was actually a fairly tidy man by nature, even before the army and hospital routines had drilled order into his soul, so his cleaning routine did not last long. Andy forced himself to calm down - the only difference, he told himself firmly, was that they were at his house instead of hers.
"But the thing is, we don't know you, Andy. You've been here a year, I don't know any more about you now than I did back then."
Andy wondered absently, as he let Frankie into his flat and took her coat with exaggerated politeness, if he was trying to let her get to know him better.
He hung the coat on the hook in the hall and they went into the living room. Frankie had found a lost soul again, he recognised the determined gleam in her eye.
"There's no way those parents are taking care of him properly," she said indignantly, telling Andy all about the child who had been sitting next to a pile of rubbish bags in the kitchen, playing with a wooden spoon and sucking her thumb.
"So call social services, and you can stop worrying about her," he advised.
"I have already, but Andy, the poor girl."
He shook his head at her. "Franks," he said softly. "You cannae worry about everything. You've done what you can, now let it go."
"I know, I know," she replied. "Right. Letting go."
"Good."
"What's for dinner? I'm bloody starving."
"Pizza?"
(If you've ever loved something, don't let it slip from under your feet.)
As Andy was unbolting the door for her to go, the words leaked out of him. "We could try. If you give me a chance."
He turned to see Frankie looking at him thoughtfully, and Andy would have given anything to hear her thoughts at that moment.
"You want me to let you convince me?"
Her puzzled smile was encouraging. "Maybe. But you can absolutely say no and I'll shut up about it and just worship you from afar," he said, making his tone jokey, needing to give her an out. His eyes skittered away from her as he fought to sound nonchalant.
"Alright then."
He stared at her.
She raised her eyebrows at him challengingly.
Licking his lips, Andy approached her slowly where she stood in the middle of the hall. She was watching him with open curiosity.
Andy lowered his head and pressed his lips to the soft skin between her neck and shoulder. It seemed to surprise Frankie, because her hands leapt up and fluttered, to settle unevenly on his ribcage. Andy wondered if she could feel his heart pounding.
He wanted to take things slowly, hoping to let her see him in a different light before he pushed things too far.
Andy made as if to kiss her properly, hovering a few inches from her mouth, until she lifted her head a fraction, her lips parting, and then - then he kissed her. He raised one hand to gently hold her neck and the back of his thumb brushed her jaw bone.
It was as perfect as the first time - more so, because this time she was leaning into him, her body pressing against him, her fingers tightening their grip on his sides as he first brushed his tongue against her lower lip.
When he tilted his head the other way, kissed from the corner of her mouth to her bottom lip, she broke away, laughing.
"God, Andy," she said, staring at him with baffled amazement.
He was not sure if that was a good thing or not. "Was that - ?"
"Yes," she said seriously, nodding, wide-eyed.
Andy felt the grin spread across his face.