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A… sleepover.
It’s been an hour and thirty minutes, and Andrew is still completely at a loss for what he’s supposed to do. Luca said earlier that Andrew could do whatever he wanted, but is it really that simple? They’ve just sat in his room the whole time.
There has to be some kind of ulterior motive, right? But Luca isn’t the kind of person… Ugh...
Andrew winces as he accidentally pulls on a hangnail, forcing himself to stop biting his nails for a bit as he spares the alarm clock in Luca’s room another glance. 9:04. P.M..
“It’s only nine at night,” Andrew comments, speaking to the person slouched against his side. “Are you actually tired?”
Luca shakes off the sleep and sits up straight, Andrew scooting away as soon as Luca detaches himself from Andrew’s side. His arm feels like it fell asleep from not moving for Luca.
“Huh?” Luca asks. “I’m a morning person, like I said! I still don’t get how you can nap at noon comfortably, so there’s no need for you and your nocturnal--”
Andrew interrupts with a slight edge to his voice, uneasy. “No! I wasn't… the… I wasn’t trying to be rude.”
Luca settles his head back on Andrew’s shoulder with a grin. “I know~”
“Huh...then why did you even ask about it?” Andrew asks, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Were you trying to make me mess up?”
Luca drops his book in his lap and raises his hands a bit, flingers splayed so his palms are empty. “Hey! I was just joking, all it--would you rather I not?”
“...I don’t see the point,” Andrew grumbles, deciding not to shrug Luca off but not leaning into the touch either.
He isn't uncomfortable, per se, but this has to be the furthest out of his comfort zone he’s been in a while, aside from actually starting high school within itself. It’s impossible to act natural when so impossibly out of touch, in Andrew’s opinion. He starts trying to bite at his thumbnail discreetly, some sort of fidget to occupy his mind.
After a moment, Andrew realizes Luca hasn’t stopped looking at him. As if shrinking in on himself to appear smaller, Andrew glances at Luca, but it’s hard to look someone in the eyes when their head’s on your shoulder.
“...What?” Andrew asks
“Look at your hand,” Luca says, grabbing Andrew’s hand from midair and holding it next to his own.
Andrew looks at his hand for only a moment before looking back at Luca. “What? Am I bleeding or something?”
“No?” Luca places his hand on top of Andrew’s. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted me to paint your nails--’cause they’re not painted. I’m really not too bad at it if you ignore my shaky hands--”
“No. Didn’t you want to read?” Andrew pulls his hand away, stomach twisting uncomfortably at how warm Luca’s hand is.
“Aww, come on, Andrew!” Luca laughs, gently tossing his book to the side in response.
It feels a bit unnecessary for Luca to lean in, considering he and Andrew are already sitting together. Andrew gives Luca an incredulous look.
“Is it really that important…”
“Not really, it’d just be cute.”
“And why is it cute?”
“...It just is? Come on, Andrew, let me paint your nails!”
“Your hands are too warm.”
Luca tilts his head to the side. “Huh? No, my hands are usually pretty cold. You’re just as warm as a corpse.”
“A corpse isn’t warm, Luca.”
“...that's the point? C’mon, I’ll warm up your hands when I hold them!”
“Are you actually being stubborn about this?” Andrew asks, looking down at his hands. Why does Luca want to paint his nails so badly…
Luca nods, and Andrew feels his determination dissipate like salt in hot water. “Yep. Do you care what color it is?”
Andrew draws his legs closer to his chest and drops his head, so his forehead almost touches his knees. “No…”
“I’ll go get black, then. You wear mostly black anyways.” Luca stands up, and Andrew feels Luca’s arm brush against his own for a moment, making a bit of a face.
Andrew settles with staring off into space while pressing his forehead against his knees while Luca’s gone. He left the light on, so it’s still bright even though it’s dark outside. Probably because it makes it easier to read…
He tries again to imagine his nails painted, but gets distracted by the thought of Luca holding his hand again. Why is his hand so warm if he says it’s cold!? It’s a little unnerving. Kind of.
But it’s not bad, just like how Luca leaning against him isn’t bad, but it’s so--
“Back!”
Andrew looks up, squinting as he faces the brightness of the room upon opening his eyes. “...Why do you have tissues?”
“In case I make a mess?”
“I thought you said you were good at painting nails?”
“Nah,” Luca huma, dropping into a sitting position Andrew winces along with him. “Hmph… I said I wasn't bad.”
So nothing’s good, but nothing's bad? Come on!
Andrew hesitates before looking at his nails. “...There’s a lot of dirt under my nails. I'm gonna go wash my hands.”
“Do you just not wanna-?”
“No,” Andrew huffs, feeling a little exasperated at this point, but probably more at the interruption of his internal monologue than at Luca himself. “I’ll be right back.”
Andrew stands up now, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie up. They never stay, and it’s annoying when the sleeves cover his hands, but he refuses to wear a smaller size.
“Down the hall. The lightswitch is to your left.”
“I’m not turning on the lights,” Andrew mumbles, curling one of the strings on his hoodie around his finger. “Too bright.”
“The lights are on right now???”
“Yeah. They’re bright.”
“Why didn't you say something?”
“You were reading.”
“Yeah, but if you said something--”
“Whatever. I’m gonna go wash my hands.”
Andrew can’t see better in the dark or anything--his vision is just bad all-around--but it’s better than the light, just because.
Probably because he doesn’t need to see himself in the mirror as he tries to scrape dirt out from under his nails. Too much to think about.
He doesn’t find the towel in the dark, so he just wipes his hands on his hoodie until they’re dry and heads back. Luca’s back to reading his book, so Andrew just stands there and watches Luca, waiting to be noticed.
Luca does not notice him.
“...Luca?” Andrew asks, and yelps when Luca jerks back in surprise.
Luca shakes his head. “Huh? When’d you get here?”
“Not too long ago? Are you gonna paint my nails?”
“Oh! Yeah! Sit down, sit down and I’ll do it,” Luca nods, grabbing the small black bottle and shaking it with a vengeance while Andrew sits down slowly.
He mumbles something under his breath before extending his hand to Luca, pursing his lips as Luca takes it in his.
That can’t be the best setup to paint nails…
Andrew says nothing, just watches while Luca starts to paint his nails. He can already tell Luca’s messed up, but he doesn’t really mind.
Not good but not bad…
Andrew allows his thoughts to wander, but they don’t get far when Luca lets go of Andrew’s first hand to grab his other one to paint. Andrew realizes with a start that Luca’s face is a bit red.
...Is it because they’re… holding hands…
...It probably is, ahah…
Andrew forces himself not to sigh as he feels warmth creep up his neck. It’s… nice, yeah, okay.
“Okay, done! How’s it look?” Luca asks, and Andrew pulls his hand away so he can look at both.
“It’s nice… thanks.”
Luca put on thin coats, so the colors didn’t look solid, and some of the nail polish got onto Andrew’s skin, but he likes it anyways.
Andrew pauses before gingerly picking up Luca’s hand. “We match now, right?”
Luca’s definitely blushing as he grins and interlaces their fingers. “Yep! Sure are! How do you like it?”
“...Matching? It’s not bad--well, it’s good. It’s annoying when you say that stuff isn’t bad but isn’t good either. Then you can’t tell anything at all.”
“Actually,” Luca counters, “If you say it’s not good but not bad, then it’s decent leaning towards good. If you say it’s not bad but not good, it’s usually still a problem. So, it’s not that you can’t tell anything at all.”
He squeezes Andrew’s hand, and Andrew rolls his eyes, tugging up his hood. “Too complicated. Leave me out of it.”
“You asked!”
“Not for that!”
“Andrew, are you gonna be difficult? Like, for real?”
“You started it,” Andrew groans, tossing his head so more of his hair covers his face.
“Soooo… that means I have to finish it?”
“I guess? What the heck am I supposed to say to that…”
“Good point!”
“For once.”
Andrew scoots closer to Luca despite his previous aversion to sitting too close. Maybe holding hands for a little bit made him realize he didn’t mind physical contact as much as he originally thought… oh well.
Luca doesn’t scoot away, which is nice.