A/N: A brief little idea I had. Related to the whole "April with depression" idea/theory/whatever that I still mumble about occasionally. I just kept thinking of dumb, adorable dialogue and this fell out.

Enjoy!

"Do you ever think about, like, us?" April asked him from the floor in the lake house.

"What?" Andy didn't know how to answer that since it seemed obvious.

"Like, that we made a mistake?"

He had noticed something fading in her eyes earlier, like an unspoken question or a buried worry, but Andy didn't think too much about it. Their own, short honeymoon was still the only thing he wanted to think about - that and how incredibly happy April had looked at the wedding. That was one of the things that made Andy feel like he was doing something right by her, just seeing her beam up at him all night and through the morning, but now it was different. She was sitting in front of the sofa, curled up in a sweater and looking up at him with something else behind those gigantic doe eyes.

Andy wasn't ever great at doing anything other than being a dope, a gigantic walking joke, and he was okay with that. Usually he was fine by that, since it seemed to make April laugh. It seemed to make her smile, something that he felt blessed to see. Except now when he felt like April was anticipating him being something else. He wanted to be, but if she was still worrying over this then he didn't know what he could give her.

"No... do you?" Andy told her honestly, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"I was just... I'm happy," she said like that was supposed to make sense, joining him on the couch.

"That's good, right?" Andy smiled briefly, turning to face her. "We're married and that's awesome, right?"

"It's gonna be the best, but don't you think... it's stupid," April shrugged and looked away from him.

"No way. You, stupid?" Andy laughed. "Seriously, what's up?"

"Maybe it was all too fast. God, this is so dumb," April still refused to look at him while she talked. "Even Leslie said we were moving too fast and I know what you said-"

"We did what makes us happy," Andy tried.

"And I am. I really, honestly am. Like, I've never felt this good before," April explained to the sofa cushions.

"I'm super confused, babe," Andy admitted finally, chuckling. "You think way more and way better than me... are you already thinking-"

"No, Andy. Don't ever think that," April quickly amended, looking up briefly before returning. "I don't want you to think about us not being us."

"So... what's the-"

"I can't stop thinking I'm gonna wake up one day and," April interrupted him quickly, "and this will all be a dream."

April started playing with one of the sleeves of her sweater. They'd talked, and through the mistakes both of them had made they let each other know what they were thinking just to be safe, but this was harder than the rest. This felt like Andy had no control. He just wanted April to stop but he knew she couldn't. Not that she didn't want to stop thinking like this, or that she enjoyed it, but Andy couldn't just wish her fears away.

"That sucks," was all he could say. "I can't stop thinking about waking up with you."

April's eyes shot up, searching his face. Andy didn't know where that line came from but that's what he honestly felt. Throughout the honeymoon he couldn't stop thinking about April - whether it was on the lake watching her take tumbles, screaming at him, or in bed in the quiet nights with hands held tight - and nothing else seemed to matter. No matter what he'd said to anyone in the past, Andy had never felt like that in his life. Nothing, no one, made him want to work as hard as April did.

Whatever that meant, whatever he had to work for, Andy didn't want to stop. He didn't want to stop because he would see April's smile just like then, small and understanding. Then she rolled her lips like she was considering something and when he saw her eyes refuse to meet his, he knew what to expect next. Without letting her break, because they both knew she didn't want him to see her like that, Andy pulled at her hands and she followed into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, she intertwined their hands and pushed her head back into his shoulder. Andy left small kisses on her shoulder through the sweater, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say.

It didn't seem to be needed though. His words weren't needed, and Andy was always thankful that he didn't need to stumble over them, nor the fact that she was refusing to let him see her cry.

"I love you," she choked out, squeezing his hands tighter.

"Love you too," he punctuated with a kiss along her neck that made April turn her head towards him over her shoulder.

"I know you mean it," April's lips hovered near his, her breath hot on his face. "I know you do."

"I'll always mean it, babe," Andy feathered his thumb along her knuckles.

"Show me," she asked quietly.

Andy moved in immediately, taking her lips like he wanted nothing else. To be honest, there wasn't much else he wanted in the world other than April. With the cold lake air shuddering around them, Andy savoring the trembling movement of her hand to his face and her unrelenting, Andy remembered what else he desired soon. After she had broken off and her eyes were still red and scared, the miniscule parting of her lips into that surprised grin was it.

"I know it's stupid-"

"It's not," Andy reprimanded instinctively.

"I never really knew... I didn't know what this was," she moved their hands still together to her chest. "I didn't understand it, y'know? It was scary, and weird, and I thought I could just avoid it."

He knew what she meant, because he felt the same way. Even if he had been nearly obsessing over her, it was still terrifying that he was willing to do it. Andy was just glad she hadn't ignored it like he was even more petrified she would have. Those first few weeks where she seemed totally ambivalent to him were worse than the loathing aimed at him. At least then he knew she at least saw him.

"I'm glad I didn't," April continued. "I'm sorry if-"

"I'm glad too," Andy nodded and April's lips turned up in response.

That was it, that was all that mattered. There was little else in the world than her smile.