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The familiar weight of the front door swinging open did not welcome you home.
Instead, it felt like the weight of a thousand stones crushing your soul as you pushed it.
“Andy?” You called out softly into the darkness, the sound absorbing into the carpet.
Silence.
You were worried that would be the case, after having just damn near destroyed your relationship earlier. Sure, he was a much nicer guy after being clean for two years so far, but today, the castle made of glass was being forced to shatter. You had fought, voices piercing through the walls, over a two year ceremony for sobriety.
“I’m not going to the damned thing!” You remember him yelling, eyes and voice ablaze.
“Why not? You’ve earned it! It's the least you can do for your family!” You had shouted back.
“You don’t even know the least I can do!”
You shake your head to dismiss the thought, sighing into the encompassing darkness of your living room. It doesn’t matter now. It's not like he’s even around.
The carpet is soft under the soles of your soon bare feet, having shrugged off your shoes by the door. You step wordlessly through the room and set your keys against the counter. They clink softly against the cool granite top.
A strand of loose hair falls into your face, coated in sweat and grease. It’s now you realize that you should probably take a shower. Wash off your long, stress filled walk through the city; the day’s regrets, whatever. Anything to feel slightly whole again, right?
You purse your lips as you pull a towel from the closet. The fluffy solace of the fabric may be the night's pajamas, you decide while pushing open the bathroom door. In darkness, your hand instinctively reaches out to flip on the light switch.
Your heart stops.
Before you lay your boyfriend, long limbs haphazardly hanging out of the bathtub. Clutched in his right hand is a bottle of cabernet perilously dangled over the bathroom tile.
Time seems to still, your head becoming a swarm of thoughts as you try to piece together the situation.
“Andy!” You shout, lunging forwards to meet him.
“Hn,” Andy groans, barely opening his eyes to see who the intruder is.
“Why did you do this?” You question immediately, hands wrapping around the bottle. The next thing you were unprepared for is his influenced strength; the vessel slipping from between you. It shatters loudly on the tile floor, the last of the wine spilling out. The glass shards litter around the bathroom now, catching glimmers of light and reflecting them off its dark surface.
Andy groans, throwing his head back against the shower wall. From this angle, the perfect outline of his Adam’s apple is prominent, situated just above a throat tattoo.
“Why’d you take away my drink?” He slurs, glossy eyes looking up to the ceiling.
“Because, you’re supposed to be sober!” You nearly yell again, reigniting your fight from earlier.
“And you’re supposed to love me.”
Tears prick at your waterline from the comment. You stare at him, bottom lip turning downwards.
“I do love you, please…” your plea trails off as your heart breaks more by the second.
“Then why do you want me to do things that I don’t want to do?” His deep voice is gruff with alcohol, words blending together.
“Because you’ve earned it! You deserve it!” Your voice finally cracks, composure escaping you. The tears in your eyes threaten to fall.
“I shouldn’t feel the need to celebrate what is expected of me as a person, and you know that.”
“No, no, no,” you repeat, reaching out to touch him. Your fingertips connect with his shoulder, and he jerks, trying to pull away from you.
“Listen,” Andy drunkenly continues, body contorting further in the small confines of your bathtub. “You either accept me as I am, or you leave.”
“Wait, you don’t understand-”
“Understand what!” He yells in response, cutting you off mid sentence.
The tears fall freely down your cheeks. “I do accept you, I always have! I always will!” You cry back at him, your arms wrapping around yourself. “I never meant to try to change anything about you. Why would I? I love you.” Your voice is merely a whisper at this point, and you’re not sure if he can even hear you. Part of you hopes he can’t.
“What?” He speaks, voice coated with a new tone of confusion. Silence creeps into the small room as he processes.
“Yes,” you break it. “I fell in love with you for who you are, as you are. I never want that to change, okay?” You sniffle, turning your head down to hide your tear stained cheeks.
Andy hiccups. “I’m sorry, wait,” he says softly, compensating for the day’s screaming match. His hand reaches out for you, to which you flinch. “Please,” he croons, “come here.”
“No, you’re drunk.” You try to scoot away, hardly making progress with your blurry sight. The coolness of the floor sinks into your legs, stilling you even more into this moment.
“I need you, please.” He tries once again, arms knocking against the tub walls as he turns to face you.
You pause.
“Please, we can talk about this tomorrow, when I’m sober.” The juxtaposition of him saying ‘sober’ in his intoxicated voice is crudely humorous, but nevertheless, you do not allow yourself to crack a smile. Instead, you turn back to face him.
“You need me?” You repeat his words verbatim, voice squeaking through the syllables.
Andy takes a moment to furrow his brows, eyes briefly closing while he thinks. “I need you as much as you don’t want me to change. Does that answer your question?” The corners of his lips start to turn up into a slight smile, that smile, and for a brief moment, your puppy-like boyfriend is back.
You wordlessly turn over to your hands and knees, closing the distance from your previous position to the edge of the tub. Then, carefully avoiding the broken glass, you push yourself up, tattooed hands helping you safely over the tub wall. You settle softly between his legs, laying your head to his chest. His arms wrap around you, encapsulating you in his warmth. Between breaths, you can make out the rhythm of his heartbeat, steadily humming in the sanctuary of his ribs.
“I’m sorry.” He breaks the silence, inebriated breath brushing against your skin. “The thought of losing you was enough to make me drink again.”
“You’re never going to lose me, okay?” You look up to him, your eyes meeting blue ones as they peer down. For a moment, you can make out the true concern written across his features. You lay your head back down. “I’m not going anywhere. Sober up and we will discuss this in the morning.” You yawn.
“Promise?” He whispers down to you.
“Promise.”
Andy gives the top of your head a kiss before leaning back against the wall.