Purely Circumstantial
Mystic25
Summary: Tori and Andre had been friends for a very long time, they didn't want anything to change that. Tori/Andre. Beck/Jade. Slight Robbie/Cat.
Disclaimer: "Victorious" and all its characters belong to Nickelodeon. This is written purely for entertainment purposes only; no monetary reward is being made from this story.
A/N: Hey everyone! I know it's been quite a while since I posted anything, but life does tend to get in the way. I will try to post more, but I cannot guarantee how often that will happen.
RATING: T, for language, and sexual situations.
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CHAPTER ONE
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"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did.
But people will never forget how you made them feel."
-Maya Angelou
"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible…is music."
~Aldous Huxley
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The rain was sloppy, with Noah's Ark intensity. It had turned the roads and sidewalks into masses of ankle-deep puddles.
It was almost seven at night. The storm was coming down in sheets thick enough to turn the world blurry against the backdrop of a dark grey sky.
Tori did her best to avoid all the puddles, but it was as successful as trying to avoid sand at the beach. Her black Converse landed in a puddle of water that went clear up to the top of the hi-top. She gabled in displeasure; rainwater fell into her open mouth. She gagged and spat at the water onto the wet sidewalk, pulling the hoodie of her purple jacket up tighter over her head.
There was a firm, assertive touch on her arm.
Andre's voice called above the din of the storm. "C'mon! We're almost there!" he pulled her forward.
Her other Converse drank up the water in another puddle, but this time she kept her mouth shut about it and followed him down the last 15 feet of the sidewalk, and up to the driveway of a red bricked ranch style house. They ran under the protection of the Spanish tiled overhang, and Tori stood there dripping while Andre fished out his house keys from his sopping wet jean jacket.
Tori shivered with her arms crossed over her chest. A boom of thunder echoed a mile off as Andre unlocked the front door and they ducked inside.
"How'd a storm come up so fast?" Tori said this in disbelief as Ander slammed the door shut and flicked on the lights with the switch by the door. This light revealed a living room painted baby blue with a couch and chair matching the paint color, overlaid with floral pillows.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Andre lowered the hood of his grey Hollywood Arts sweatshirt, then peeled off his jean jacket that was on over it. He threw these onto the wooden coffee table, on top of the fake fruit that sat there in a black plastic bowl. Water both clung to and dripped off his dark dread locks. He shook his head to remove them. "If I knew it would get this bad, I'd a taken my car."
When he and Tori had started their Friday night song writing session after school, it had been clear, sunny, with a warm breeze. This weather had made him decide to take his Nishiki Mountain Bike to school instead of his black Camaro. But right around 6:00, the sky had darkened through the windows of the school's music production studio. First an oyster grey, then dark as charcoal. Several harsh flashes of lightening and echoing booms of thunder had convinced him and Tori to pack up their liner notes and head out before the weather got any worse. By the time they made it out to the front of the school it had started raining steadily enough to convince Andre not to chance riding a bike home in it. Tori had planned to catch a city bus home, but the nearest bus stop was a quarter of a mile away. Andre's house was only a 20-minute walk from Hollywood Arts, so he decided to just leave his biked chained at the school and convinced Tori to go there with him until the rains died down.
That 20-minute walk turned into a 40-minute walk as the storm went from heavy to blinding. They ended up running through most of it, doing their best to navigate around the potholes, puddles, and pounding rain.
"At least you have a car," Tori pulled wet clumps of her long hair away from her face.
Andre watched her do this "You okay?"
"Oh yeah, I'm great," She squeezed a puddle of water out from her hair with a look of distain, the water dripped onto the carpet. "Just another day that ends in Y." She shook her curls to try and shake more water out of them.
"Yeah, I can see that," Andre responded.
"I'm sorry, Tori looked up from her hair squeezing, stepping out of the puddle that she had created on the carpeted floor. "Are you sure you mind if I hang here for a bit until I dry out before I head out?"
Andre looked at her incredulously, "Of course I don't; you can't go out in that." The storm slammed into the foyer window behind them. He pulled out his Pear Phone from his jeans pocket, thankful that he had a waterproof case and screen protector. He opened the local weather app. "According to this, it'll be this bad for like six more hours. A stray tree branch slammed against the front window causing them both to jump. "I'd drive you back home, but there's no way we're making it through this without ending up in a ditch."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Tori's pitch was screechy, her soaked shoes squished on the carpet. "I have to go home!"
"Just stay here tonight," Andre suggested. "This storm should be over by morning, and I'll drive you home then."
Tori looked at him like he was slightly crazy. "And what about my clothes? I don't know about you, but I don't like to sleep soggy and muddy." She flicked a splatter of mud from off the neckline of her plaid button up. It fell to the carpet with a thick plop.
"It's cool," Andre said. "Just grab a shower, warm up, I'll toss your stuff in the washer. You can borrow one of my shirts tonight and change in the morning."
"You sure you don't mind?" Tori tried to comb the snarls out of her hair with her fingers. But all she did was pull pieces of hair out, so she stopped.
"Not a problem," Andre answered.
Tori blew out a breath of relief, "Thank you! -wait!" she grabbed his elbow. "What about your grandmother? Last time I was here past five she thought I was trying to steal her curio shelf. She called the Neighborhood Watch on me; those ladies tried to make a Citizen's Arrest. One of them almost broke my pinky!"
"Don't worry," Andre reassured. "Grandma's staying with my Uncle Nester this weekend so you're in the clear. But what about your parents? Will they care?" Tori was now 18, and he wasn't very close behind her. But that didn't mean that they no longer cared about their families' concerns.
"There in Pasadena for the weekend. It's just me and Trina. Dad had a detective convention, and mom's visiting Aunt Rosalind-"
"Isn't that the one you told me used to be in a traveling circus?"
"Ribbon dancer on elephants, for 5 years."
"Sounds unique."
"It's really not," Tori shivered in the cool air-conditioned air. She rubbed her hands over her arms over the soggy sleeves of her jacket. "Since you're being gracious, I should probably grab that shower now before you need to hire carpet cleaners."
"No prob," Andre walked ahead of her through an opened hallway, flicking on two sets of lights as he went. He came back a few minutes later. "All set. I threw a fresh towel and one of my shirts on the counter for you."
"Thanks," Tori felt slightly awkward at the way this conversation sounded. But then she tried to remind herself that Andre was a good friend to do all this for her. She could either be embarrassed and wet; or be grateful, dry, and clean. She chose the second option. "Out in a few." She unzipped her soggy jacket and walked past him and into the lit hallway.
Once she reached it, she saw the lights coming through the partially opened bathroom door. She pushed it open the rest of the way with one hand and stepped inside.
The bathroom lights were an amber colored brightness. They reflected off a brown and grey marbled countertop with a wall-to-wall mirror. A vase of dried roses and baby's breath sat against next to an electric toothbrush and a squared basin sink. A grey bath towel and a saffron-yellow t-shirt sat in a neatly folded pile by the sink.
The bathtub was closed off with a white shower curtain covered in a pattern of pink and purple Hydrangea flowers. She slid the curtain back and turned on the water to the shower head.
While she waited for the water to heat up, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her purple and black plaid shirt and black leggings stuck to her like snakeskin; her hair did not fair that much better.
She made a face at her waterlogged reflection. She stripped off her wet clothes and shoes, leaving everything in a pile on the floor except for her bra and underwear. These she took into the shower with her. The water had reached a steamy temperature. She stood under the metal shower head and let it warm her up and run down her hair. Sloshes of mud ran off her skin and plop down the drain. She idly hoped that it didn't clog it, it because that would be gross. The shampoo bottle she found in the shower caddy was nearly empty. She filled it partly with water and shook the bottle; using the small amount of suds it produced to wash the mud off her hair. She used a bar of pink soap that smelled of mint and lilac to wash her body. After she rinsed off, she used the soap bar to wash her cream-colored underwear and bra. She squeezed them out and hung them over the shower curtain rod before cutting off the water and stepping out onto a plush whitish gray bathmat. She grabbed the towel from the counter and squeezed the water out of her hair before wrapping it around herself. She opened the top drawer in the vanity and found a blue toothed comb and a bag of thin black rubber hair bands. She took these out. She combed as many snarls as possible out of her hair with the comb, then braided it into long pigtails, securing them with two of the rubber bands from the baggie. She put the comb and the baggie back in the drawer. Then, she he took down her still damp underwear and put them back on. She unfolded he yellow shirt, a Steelers T-Shirt with a black "19" printed on the front of it, and put it on, pulling her braids out through the neck hole. The shirt ended just about half an inch above her knees, and the black stripped sleeves almost reached the bends of her elbows. The fabric was soft, well-worn. It smelled like vanilla and bourbon, like the cologne Andre always wore.
She hung the towel on a Command Hook she found on the back of the door. She collected her damp clothes and shoes from off the floor, and cut the light off, exiting the bathroom.
She walked back into the living room, finding it empty. The TV in front of the living room couch was turned on to a True Crime/Criminal Minds type of show.
"Andre?"
She heard a door behind her open. She turned around and saw Andre walking out of a what she assumed was his bedroom because she saw a bed with a dark blue blanket and his guitar leaning on a black stand inside it. He had changed out of his wet clothes too, into grey sweatpants, red crew neck t-shirt, and black Adidas slides over white socks. He had also put his dreads up into a ponytail at the top of his head.
"Hey," He closed his bedroom door and walked over to her. "You're out."
Tori nodded "Yep."
He moved his gaze over what she was wearing. "Nice shirt."
She breathed out a laugh "Thanks."
His gaze moved lower. "What's the meaning of the symbol?" She looked at him in confusion, until he said: "Your tattoo."
"Oh," Tori looked down to the tattoo that spanned the bridge of her left foot. "It's Sanskrit." The design was the in the shape of a skeleton key, with a treble clef as the key head and a cluster of Sanskirt symbols as the bit mechanism at the end of the key shaft. "It's the symbol for music. I got it for my last birthday."
"It's nice," Andre had never noticed it before because Tori usually wore boots or sneakers, even inside. It was a beautiful tattoo, inked in black except for a red curve that turned the top of the treble clef into a heart.
"Thank you-" She held her bundle of wet clothes to him, breaking the spell his gaze had on over them both. "My laundry sir. Cold water, and a low dryer setting please."
He took her clothes, hands lingering over hers. "Yes ma'am," He gave her a smile walking past her and over to a stacked washer and dryer combo that stood across from a long-ended kitchen next to a counter that spilled out into the living room. Three swivel high backed stools stood against the counter, and another bowl of fake wax fruit stood in the middle of countertop.
Tori turned back to the show playing on the TV. "Hey, what is this?"
"True Crime Stories," Andre opened the circular door of the washer, throwing in Tori's wet clothes as well as his own. "It's about all the crazy crime that goes on in a city. I think this week it's Las Vegas."
"I didn't know you were into true crime," Tori picked up the black remote lying on the coffee table and turned the TV volume up. She saw some detective talking to a show girl drag queen all dressed in her pink feathers and make up.
"Believe it or not, Cat got me into it," Andre added laundry detergent and fabric softener to the wells in the washer and turned it on. "She said it used to be her brother's favorite show in mental detention."
"I believe it," Tori said, taking a seat on the couch, still holding onto the remote.
They settled back into their usual banter, fizzling away the awkwardness.
Andre walked into the living room at the part in the show where the drag queen was being questioned in an interrogation room and she was clearly not happy about it. There was a lot of screaming and finger snapping. "Damn, she's got sass," he turned to Tori. "She reminds me of someone."
"Hey, I only sass when it's warranted," Tori defended herself. Andre laughed at her, and she looked at him. "What?"
"Nothing," He sat down next to her on the couch. "It's just, when I first met you, I wondered how so much attitude could fit into such a tiny body."
"Dude!" Tori grabbed a couch cushion from behind her and smacked Andre in the face with it. "Is that what you really thought about me? Nothing else?"
"Well that, and you're a way better singer than your sister."
They shared a laugh, Tori pulled her feet up under her body, setting the couch cushion in her lap. "I wonder what would've happened if Trina didn't get partnered with you for the Big Showcase."
"She would've bombed," Andre said, "And we would've never met."
"So, I own Trina for our friendship?" Tori looked incredulous.
Andre held up his hands "Hey you said it not me."
They laughed again and Tori rested her head on the back of the plush couch.
"You getting as hungry as I am?" Andre asked her.
Tori nodded against the couch, "So hungry." She hadn't eaten since she snacked on a Snicker bar hours ago at the HA music production room. She looked out the window; the rain was hitting the glass like shotgun pellets. "Only problem is I doubt Uber Eats or Bite Squad will risk slogging through this mess."
"I got a buddy who works for Bite Squad who'd do it," Andres said. "He considers stuff like this a personal challenge." He picked up his Pear Phone, opening the Bite Squad app. "What are you in the mood for?"
"Pizza?" Tori said. "Double pepperoni, double cheese?"
"Sure thing," Andre said. "Provami's Pizzera's?"
"Is there another place to order good pizza?"
"Dominos?"
"Eeewww," She made a face.
Andre laughed as he placed their order into the app, putting a special request for his friend to make the delivery.
While they waited for their food, they watched a more of True Crime Stories.
"You know I can't watch these kinds of shows," Tori said. "They remind me too much of my dad."
"Did he ever go on stings like this?"
"Not since he made detective, but he did a lot when he was on regular patrol in the city. One time he had to bust up this whole cocaine ring. Some guys got pissed at him and fired a bunch of shots through the windshield of his patrol car. Almost killed him."
Andre turned away from the T.V. and looked at her. "You never told me that."
"I was eight when it happened," Tori responded. "Mom just told us he had a bad day at work and left it at that."
"Man-" Andre said.
"Yeah," Tori agreed. "He made detective when Trina and I were in middle school, mom really pushed for it. More investigation, less patrol time." She turned her head to him. "What about you? Your dad was in the army, right?"
"Yeah," Andre said. "Sergeant First Class. He did a tour in Iraq in 2003, right when the war first started. One day, him and the guys in his unit were on a patrol in their Humvee; until they were blown sky high by a roadside bomb."
"Oh my god-!" Tori covered her mouth with her hands. "Andre, that's awful," She put her hands down, "How come you never told me?" She knew that Andre's father had died, but she never knew how.
"It's not something I really like to talk about." Andre admitted this while looking down at his hands. "After that, mom, she couldn't handle it, said it was too hard to parent me all on her own. We drove from San Jose to LA to stay with my grandma. But mom only stayed a few days, then said she was going out for a while- she never came back. She left a message on grandma's voicemail, said it'd be better this way, that my grandma could take better care of me." He looked back up to Tori "She moved to Seattle, I get post cards from her every few years," His mind was somewhere besides his living room and didn't notice that Tori had taken ahold of his hand.
Tori rubbed his wrist with her thumb. "Andre-"
"It was years ago." Andre said.
"That doesn't make it okay-"
"Don't you think I know that?" Andre snapped. "Nothing will ever make it okay." He looked at her taken aback expression. "Just drop it Tori, aiight?"
The doorbell rang before Tori could counter with anything.
"Pizza's here," Andre pulled away from her stood up. Tori's hand fell to her lap, and she followed his movements with his eyes as he walked over to the front door and opened it.
A tall Latino guy was at the door, maybe 5'11", thin, but built, dressed in red polo shirt, black jeans, baseball cap with the Bite Squad logo on it and red jacket damp with rainwater.
"Hey Trevor," Andre held his hand out to the delivery guy who slapped it against his.
"Andre hey!" Trevor smiled. "How's it going?"
"It's been aiight," Andre said. "Listen thanks for driving out here in this mess."
"It's my job man," Trevor pulled a large cardboard pizza box from the red warming bag it was inside. He read the order on the receipt taped to the box. "Double pepperoni, double cheese? Not your usual fare."
"Guess you could call it a special occasion," Andre took the pizza box from him.
Trevor looked past him, spotting Tori sitting on the couch. His eyebrows raised and a smile crept across his face. "Guess you could."
Andre turned around to Tori, "I'm sorry, Tori, this is Trevor. Trevor this is Tori Vega, my girl from Hollywood Arts."
Tori waved to Trevor from the sofa. "Hey."
"Hey beautiful," Trevor returned, noticing that Tori was wearing Andre's shirt, and looked freshly showered. "I'm not interrupting anything
am I?"
"No man, it's not like that," Andre picked up his brown leather wallet from where he had laid it on the kitchen counter, pulling out a ten-dollar bill.
"Whatever you say dude," Trevor accepted the cash tip with a smile both at Andre and Tori. "You two kids have fun." He slapped Andre on the shoulder and walked back to his car parked in the driveway.
Andre shook his head and closed the door. "Sorry about that," he walked with the pizza box over to the kitchen counter. "Trevor's a good guy, he just likes to mess with people."
"Don't worry about it," Tori didn't remark anymore about Andre's dad, she didn't want to press him too much. "He's not the first person to suggest something about us, and he won't be the last."
"Shit, no kidding," Andre said as he ducked under the counter to pull some Styrofoam paper plates from the cabinets. "I mean, it's not like I'm offended" he opened the pizza box, pulling two slices and putting them on Styrofoam plates.
"Of course not, "Tori said. "If someone's going to think I'm going out with someone, you're not a bad choice."
"Yeah, you either," Andre came into the living room and handed her one of the plates of pizza, sitting next to her again on the couch.
Tori smiled and held out her pizza slice, "I'll cheers to that," she and Andre bumped pizza slices together and she bit into the bottom corner, a string of melted cheese pulling away from the crust as she ate.
They sat there for an hour eating three slices of pizza each, watching the tail end of episode of True Crime Stories, and part of the next episode that was streaming. But, it was mostly a boring reenactment of a woman caught shoplifting an inflatable raft from a K-Mart and using it to chase her ex-boyfriend with it down US 1.
Andre turned off the TV, then suggested that they work more on the song they were doing for their creative music class. When Tori agreed he went to his room to grab his walnut wood Fender California Redondo guitar and song writing notebook. He sat down back beside Tori and worked his fingers on the guitar's fretboard.
He strummed out a melodic, jazz kind of tune. Beside him Tori was looking at the lyrics he had written in the notebook who's pages were damp in places from the rain. "These lyrics are amazing," she lowered the notebook to her lap. "I wish I could write lyrics. Every time I try, it ends up sounding like a rap written for Sesame Street."
Andre laughed, "Hey don't sell yourself short, you've got massive pipes." he reached for the red solo cup by his half empty pizza and took a drink of the Coke from it.
Tori's lips pulled into a wide smile at his compliment.
Andre tightened two of the tuner keys on the guitar, taking another sip of his drink. "Aiight, let's try this," he started playing the same jazz, bluesy riff he had been doing earlier, this time adding the lyrics he wrote:
"The Big Dipper went and told me,
I'm the biggest guy you ever seen,
But the moon don't ever lie- to me,"
Andre had sung numerous pop songs solos and duets with Tori, and he sounded great on all of them. But he sang this song with a deep bluesy tone that suited his vocals better than anything he had written for a Hollywood Arts event.
"I took a trip, traveled to the sun,
I told me that I was the only one,
But the moon don't ever lie, to me,
Oh I'm flying, ye-ah, I'm flying, to a land called Aquarius-" his fingers stilled on the frets and his voice descended to a low hush.
"Dude-" Tori voice reeked of pure awe. "That was amazing!"
"Thanks," Andre said. "But I'm not sure about the rest of it."
"Well, I am! It fits perfectly!"
"I still feel like it's not there yet, like it needs something more."
"More what? It sounds really good to me already," she strummed her thumb over the strings strung across the sound hole in the center of the guitar's body. She meant every word. Andre had a very versatile voice, but she found that her favorite was when it sounded this way.
"I don't know how to describe it, but like something, ya know?"
"Based on that description—yeah" Tori joked. She laughed for a moment, but then saw Andre look at her, unamused. "Okay, Okay, I know what the song needs."
"What?"
"A switch off between us with these stanzas."
"I don't know-"
"C'mon, trust me," she said, taking the notebook off her lap, flipping it back to the first page of lyrics. "Pick up at the end of the first phrasing."
Andre looked at her like she was a little crazy because he had been fiddling with this song for the last three days and still wasn't satisfied with the way it sounded. But he did what Tori asked, picking up the last set of lyrics:
"Oh I'm flying, ye-ah, I'm flying, to a land called Aquarius
I said I'm flying to a land called Aquarius- yeah-la da da-dah-"
"See people look you straight dead in the eye
And tell you everything your heart desires,
But the moon don't' ever lie—to me-"
Andre's scatting cut off when he heard Tori pick up the lyrics. Her voice was only half an octave higher than his, with a sultry, jazz filled undercurrent that pulled at him as slowly as molasses boiling off sugarcane. His eyebrows raised, and a smiled tugged high at his lips.
"See I've been walking in a riptide," His smile remained as picked up where she ended.
You give me water, but my mouth's still dry,
"But the moon don't ever lie to me,"
Their voices blended, harmonizing in dips and riffs that filled the living room with a rich sound.
"Oh I'm flying-yea-ah, I'm flying, to a land called Aquarius,
I said I'm flying to a land called Aquarius, baby-"
They ended the song with a series of vibrato runs that faded out into whispers. Andre gave a whooped and laughed. He held out a fist to Tori. "Give it up girl-"
"Boom," Tori bumped fists with him, laughing. "We're definitely getting an A for this song next week," she picked her soda cup off the coffee table and took a long drink from it. She set the cup back down and looked at the face of her watch. "Damn, it's only 8:30. I can't go to bed this early or I'll wake up at like 4 am; and trust me you don't want that."
"Wanna watch more True Crime Stories?" Andre suggested.
"Bite your tongue," Tori said.
Andre laughed. "Aiight, how about a little song roulette?"
"What's song roulette?"
Andre strummed out a C scale on his guitar. "We each pick a genre of song for the other to sing until one of us messes up and cracks."
"Sounds delightful," Tori said, she flipped her braids behind her shoulders. "Alright I'm in."
"She's in!" Andre said excitedly. "Okay, I'll go first-" he strummed out the Jeopardy final question theme song: "Tori Vega, your first genre is-" he strummed a loud chord. "funk pop."
"Is that even a genre?"
"I just thought of it, so yes."
Tori laughed at him and shook her head. "Okay," She cleared her throat; and started singing an acapella version of "I Think I Want to Marry You" by Bruno Mars. Her voice had the same rich, velvety tone as before, making Andre's eyes raise up as he slid the guitar strap off his shoulder and set the instrument down carefully on the coffee table. He leant back into the couch, listening to her.
When she was done, she looked at him with a wagged eyebrow expression.
Andre's smile widened. "Yeah, that's my girl," he draped an arm over her shoulder, squeezing it. "Aiight, you're go."
Tori's choice ended up being Justin Bieber, and even though Andre argued that Justin Bieber wasn't a genre, he still sang an over-the-top version of Bieber's song "Peaches." which had them both cracking up when he was done.
"Dude don't ever join Bieber's entourage because you suck," Tori was trying not to laugh at him too hard. She failed.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Andre said. His next song genre for Tori was opera, leaving her to belt out a very choppy version of Verdi's Rigoletto, which thoroughly and completely got her back for her Bieber choice for him.
Next came several UB40 songs that ended badly for both of them since UB40 was a group, not a solo singer. When they had enough of song roulette, Andre turned on his Google speaker and played some actual UB40. They danced around his living room, wild and unapologetic to a playlist of songs that included: "The Way You Do the Things You Do" "Here I am (Come and Take Me)" and "Red Red Wine."
They were both panting and laughing and when Andre stopped the Google playlist. Tori dropped on the couch in a heap, still laughing. She checked her watch again. while Andre was in the kitchen refilling their solo cups.
"What time is it now?" Andre asked as he walked back in the living room with the drinks.
"11:22," Tori accepted one of the cups from him. "Way better than friggin' 8:30."
Andre looked at her in amusement "Tori Vega, wild woman." He sat back down next to her.
"I try to be a bad influence whenever I can." She took a drink from the red cup.
Andre laughed at her over the rim of his cup. "Can I suggest one more song before you decide to turn in?" He picked up his guitar and slung the strap back over his shoulder.
Tori sat up cross legged on the couch "What song?"
"You'll see," Andre strummed a slow beat, turned one tuner peg a quarter right turn, then began to play out a slow, melodic set of chords:
"Mama told me,
When I was young,
Said sit beside me, my only son,
And listen closely, to what I say,
And if you do this,
It will help you, some sunny day,
Ah yeah it will,"
Tori sat up more, listening as Andre' fingers glided and plucked at the guitar strings, his voice, low, deep, and raw:
"Oh take your time,
Don't live too fast,
Troubles with come,
And they will pass,
You'll find a woman,
And you'll find love,
And don't forget that there is someone, up above,
And be a simple, kind of man,
Be something, you love and understand,
Baby, be a simple kind of man,
Oh, won't you do this for me son, if you can."
Andre kept his head turned down to his guitar, occasionally looking at Tori, and she felt like something was burning off from him and into her with each look.
"Forget your lust,
The rich man's gold,
All that you need now, is in your soul,
And you can do this, oh baby; if you try,
All that I want for you my son, is to be satisfied,
And be a simple, kind of man,
Be something, you love and understand,
Baby, be a simple, kind of man,
Won't you do this for me son, if you can.
Oh don't you worry, you'll find yourself,
Follow your heart, and nothing else,
And you can do this, oh baby if you try,
All that I want from you my son, is to be satisfied,
And be a simple, kind of man,
Oh won't you do this for me son, if you can,
So baby, be a simple, be a simple man,
Oh won't you doooo this for me son,
Iffff- yooou cannnn."
For several seconds Tori couldn't even speak, the last dying chords of Andre's guitar resonated around the room. "Andre- that was beyond amazing."
"My dad played guitar," Andre took the guitar strap off his shoulder. "He was the one who taught me how to play when I was ten. He brought his guitar with him to Iraq. After- " he paused on a deep breath, his eyes moving briefly away from Tori before finding them again. "There was nothing left, not even that. When I first got into Hollywood Arts, I saved up my money to buy a guitar of my own. A Fender Redondo-" he held the body of his guitar out in front of her like he was presenting an offering. "-just like his. Well almost- his was black, but the shop I went to didn't have it in that color."
Tori set a hand on his arm "Andre-"
"Listen, I'm sorry about shooting you down when you asked me about my dad earlier." He set the guitar down back down on the coffee table.
"Dude, you don't have to apologize," Tori said.
"It's just hard to talk about. Before all this, we were a pretty normal family-then one day, one second, it's gone." He set his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands.
Tori climbed off the couch and knelt in bare feet on the floor in front of him. She set her hands over his. Then, without any words, she leant up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt his arms go around her back and his head lean into her shoulder. She rubbed the top of his dreads with her fingers.
Seconds past into a minute. His head raised up, and she saw that his gaze was wet. She set a hand against this side of his face and kissed him there, pressing her forehead into his. She closed her eyes, listening to him breathe. His tears hit her hand and slid warm down her skin.
Her eyes opened when she felt his hand resting against the back of her neck. She leveled her gaze to his, her thumbs brushed the tear tracks away from his face.
Another few moments of silence came and went. Then he pulled forward, covering her mouth in a breathy kiss.
She deepened it, feeling his other hand slide behind one of her braids, fingers in her hair.
That kiss was long, almost until she couldn't breathe. She pulled back, only to suck in enough air before leaning into kiss him again. She climbed back up on the couch, drawing her legs up to straddle his waist.
Andre slid his arms down and rested his hands against her bare thighs, pulling them in closer. He smelled his cologne in the shirt she borrowed and the soap she had used in the shower. He felt her body beneath the fabric press into him as both her hands came up to around the side of his face as she kissed him with a voracity she normally reserved for her singing.
She danced her tongue over his teeth. His hands moved higher up on her legs, then up under her shirt, up the curve of and dip of her back and then back down until his fingers brushed the lace band of her still damp underwear.
He heard a sighing moan escape her. She moved her hands down, lips still pressed to his, and slid a hand up his shirt, moving her touch across the muscles of his chest. She reached down to grab at the hem of his t-shirt.
Tori got his shirt halfway up off his chest before she felt Andre grip her wrist to stop her. Her eyes flew open. "What's wrong?" Her pupils were dilated wide into the brown of her irises.
"We can't-" Andre pulled his shirt away from her grip.
"Why not?" Tori couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice. "I thought you- you don't want too?"
"Hell no, I do," Andre said. "Tori, you're perfect. You don't know how many times I've thought about this-about you, here with me. But today's been a shit storm. And I don't want us doing this because we were tired and emotional."
Tori pulled back so that she was sitting on his lap, facing him. Her braids were in a tangle and her lips were swollen. "I know you're not trying to take advantage of me, and I'm not either- it's just-" she pulled some of her hair back behind her ears that had escaped her pigtails. "Sometimes there are things that you can't say with words. Sometimes you just have to feel things."
"I know," Andre ran a hand up and down her left arm. "Tor, you're my best friend, I know," his touch moved up to her face, he breathed out a sigh. "It's late. It's past midnight, we should probably get some sleep before we're a wreck tomorrow."
Tori nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Her voice was a reluctant sigh. She moved off his lap and sat next to him on the couch.
"You can take my bed," Andre said. "I'll crash on the couch."
"Uh uh, no way," she protested "Andre, this thing is at least half a foot shorter than you are, there's no way it'll be comfortable."
"It's cool, I can' manage."
"No it's not cool. Look, you know, I'll sleep under the covers, and you can sleep on top of them."
"Tori, it's a full-size mattress, there's no way you'll be comfortable if I sleep there too." Andre said.
"We're not the boarder of waring countries," Tori insisted. "We don't have avoid touching each other. It's pretty tame considering what we've already done."
"Aiight," Andre's thoughts were still reeling after what just happened. But still, he knew she was right. "Just you know, don't tell on me."
Tori laughed "Cross my heart." She did the motion of slashing an X over her hand and held her palm up.
He shrugged the slightest laugh and leaned over to kiss her cheek.
"C'mon," She grabbed his hand and he let her pull him towards his bedroom, cutting off the lights in the living room as he went.
xxxxXxxxx
A/N: I realized after I wrote this chapter that the layout of Andre's house is different than it is the few times it was seen on the show. But it was the way I pictured the whole thing in my head when I was writing it.
Songs Used in this Chapter:
"Aquarius" by: Leon Thomas III
"Simple Man" by: Lynyrd Skynyrd (Shinedown Cover)