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our little vignette

Summary:

A collection of moments from various stages in Sam and Andrew's relationship.

Notes:

hi everyone :) welcome to this little project i'm embarking on!

basically, i was looking for a way to share the shorter bits of stuff i write about our professors, that don't really fit or lend themselves to longer works, so they will all appear here as chapters. They will not necessary follow one other or appear in chronological order, but the chapters will be named according to where in their academic careers the events are taking place, so hopefully that will make things clearer.

If you're here and you don't know what I'm going on about, the real start of this journey can be read here .

As a proper introduction, our first chapter is Sam and Andrew meeting for the first time :D

Chapter 1: Undergraduate/Doctorate - roman candle of the wild (she found me just in time)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sam coughed as the box she had just dropped kicked up some dust. 

“Is there anything left in the van, babe?” She called over her shoulder, at Andrew, wherever he currently was in their brand new home. Excitement was buzzing in the air and even though the emptiness of the rooms promised a lot of work ahead, she stood with her hands on her hips, accomplished. They were home , finally. Sure, Andrew’s dingey flat held many memories, but this house represented something much bigger than itself. A commitment by both Sam and Andrew to a future together. 

Andrew appeared in the doorway as Sam started opening some of the boxes strewn about what would soon be their living room. “Nope, all done,” He notified, leaning against the doorframe and observing Sam with a fond look on his face. Too overwhelmed with domestic bliss, Andrew didn’t realise at first what box Sam was poking around in. He had lazily scribbled “misc” on it, as to not arouse suspicion, but his cheeks were soon flushed with embarrassment when Sam held up an old, beaten up tin with a confused expression on her face. “What’s this?” She asked, rattling it a bit, causing its contents to jingle around inside.

Andrew sprang away from the doorframe, wishing desperately he could turn time back five minutes and herd Sam’s attention away to literally any other of the dozen boxes laying around. “Oh, it’s nothing, just some stuff -” He tried, but it was too late. 

Sam had popped the tin open and was inspecting what it held inside. Her face switched from confused curiosity to delighted surprise. 

-

“Alex, man, c’mon. Do you really not have an extra one?”

Even when furiously scribbling down notes, Sam couldn’t help but overhear the conversation in front of her. It was the cute guy she had noticed on the first day, next to his friend that seemingly never left his side. He always wore the coziest looking jumpers and his insights when contributing to class discussions made Sam swoon. It was like the opposite of a red flag, it made her heart flutter and her mind want to daydream. 

She and Cute Guy had a way of always sitting close to each other in class, Sam chalked it up to pure coincidence. She definitely didn’t look for the mess of curls when she entered the lecture hall, she just subconsciously gravitated towards it. 

Her eyes immediately shot to the extra pencil she always kept in her pencil case, kept there in case of emergency. And she would definitely call the cute guy in her English class with the prettiest smile she had ever seen needing a pencil, an emergency. The only thing standing in her way was her nerves. What if he found it weird that she offered a pencil out of nowhere? Like what kind of person does that? But what if their fingers brush in the exchange? What if he smiles that pretty smile in her direction? She might just die.

“Sorry?” Nice, Sam, the lamest possible way to get his attention. 

Cute Guy turned around and for a moment looked as if Sam was holding out a knife instead of a pencil. “Here you go,” She smiled, “Heard you needed one.” Sam couldn’t help but feel empowered by the several seconds Cute Guy spent gulping for air.

“Ehm, thank you...so much,” He returned her smile, if Sam’s heart wasn’t already in overdrive, it certainly was now. He took the pencil without any finger brushing (sadly), awkwardly swishing it like a wand before turning back around. Sam was so endeared.

Andrew felt physical pain in his chest. Who did he think he was, Harry fucking Potter? Swishing around a pencil like he was the Chosen One, oh Lord. She probably thought he was the biggest loser on earth. His face felt boiling hot and he could see Alex laughing into his hand out of the corner of his eye. Oh sweet merciful Jesus, could the earth not just swallow him whole right now?

He looked down at the simple pencil in his hand. It felt sacred, like he couldn’t possibly just go about using it for its intended purpose. But this was Dr. Ingram’s class and Andrew was already two slides behind. 

-

Sam looked down at the bottle in her hand and sloshed its liquid contents around. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing here. One of her flatmates’ boyfriend was hosting a house party and she barely knew anyone here. Luckily, the girls had all encouraged her to get a few shots in before they got to the party so at least the alcohol kept her enthusiastic. Taking another sip from her cider, Sam started to search the room for a familiar face, just as not to be that person standing alone in the corner, people watching. She could only spot strangers, maybe she should go back outside. Sam rounded a corner and bumped into something solid, some one solid. 

Cute Guy’s handsome and flushed face greeted her. “Woah, you're taller than I thought…” was the first thing that slipped from Sam’s mouth. This caused Cute Guy to let out a nervous giggle and self-consciously run his hand through his hair, “Uhm, thank you?” The uncertainty in his voice made it sound like a question.

“Oh my God,” Sam slapped her hand to her mouth, “I meant ‘Hi’, y’know, like how normal people greet each other. Can I just start over?” She looked at him as if it wasn’t a rhetorical question and he gave her a subtle nod. Sam made a show of straightening herself and switching her drink to the other hand, so that her handshake hand was free. To her delight, Cute Guy followed along, adjusting his shirt and tucking his hair behind his ears, smiling all the way. 

“I’m Sam - Samantha, if you’re my mum - nice to meet you,” She stuck her hand out and tried her best not to look too enamoured. Christ, why did she just say that? She hated how gregarious drinking made her.

With a laugh, Andrew introduced himself. “Andrew, nice to meet you, too.” He suddenly felt a lot less steady on his feet. It could be the pre-drinks he had at Alex’s flat, but he was pretty sure it was the pressure and excitement of having Sam’s eyes on him. They shook hands, even though Andrew’s hand practically swallowed hers and her hands were so soft, Andrew was almost sad to let go.

Sam felt warm with the mixture of alcohol and utter happiness coursing through her veins. Everything felt too little and too much at the same time. It was almost overwhelming being this close to him, finally, but she also longed to be so much closer. “It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” Sam said, taking a sip from her drink, her tipsy brain not noticing what that statement implied. 

“Glad I could help,” Andrew knew he was smiling like a lovesick fool, but he couldn’t seem to stop, “How are you finding Dr. Ingram’s class?” Ugh, nice one, Andrew, who would want to talk about class at a party? He tried his best to appear casual and suave, placing his palm against the wall next to them, leaning on it. 

“Oh, it’s alright, I’m just a bit stressed about the essay, y’know? He made such a big deal of it and how much it counts towards our final marks. I actually wanted to ask someone else from class about this. From what angle are you approaching it? Because I was thinking to discuss it as a bildungsroman and kinda elaborate on that…” Sam’s cheeks went red at the feeling that she might’ve just talked too much. She was trying with everything in her to appear cool and calm and not at all like this conversation is something she’s dreamed of for weeks.

Andrew smiled and nodded throughout, fully interested in what she had to say. He got especially excited at the mention of the essay. In his haste to answer her, his hand slipped from the wall and his body hit the wall with a smack. “Uh,” He stuttered, rubbing at this sore shoulder with a blood red face, “I was thinking of discussing it through the lens of gender, like how that impacts the characters throughout, but I’m scared that’s too vague. Ingram scares me a bit, not gonna lie…”

Sam stood, momentarily stunned by Andrew’s clumsiness, but immediately became even more endeared by the adorable, shy expression on his flushed face.

They stood there chatting for a while, never wavering in their enthusiasm. During a particularly lively discussion about the inside jokes that English class had brought about, Sam put her hand on Andrew’s forearm during a hearty laugh and Andrew nearly passed out. Her hands were so warm and he had never felt so touch starved in his life. When she recovered, Andrew noticed she had finished her cider. “Refill?” He asked, holding up his own empty glass. Sam nodded and in a move he would never have attempted if he were any less inebriated, he took her hand and led her to the kitchen. 

Sam had to keep herself from giggling like a schoolgirl. Luckily, Andrew had his back to her so he wouldn’t see the dopey smile that has taken over her face. Navigating through the throngs of people felt like a breeze with Andrew as her guide and from this angle she could admire his broad shoulders and his pretty wrists. Oh my God, please let her finish tonight without telling this absolute gift of a man that he has pretty wrists. 

“So what is your drink of choice?” Andrew asked, once they reached an open spot on the cluttered counters of the kitchen.

“What are you drinking? Think I’ve had enough ciders for the night…”

“Oh, I was having a whiskey -”

“Oh God, no. Anything but that!”

“It is an acquired taste, I must admit,” Andrew laughed. He laughed with such abandon, it made Sam’s heart swell. Suddenly, Andrew started scouting the room, like a child about to do something naughty. His arm reached out and swiped the half full bottle of vodka not too far from them. He held it up to Sam like a prize and a face asking “How about this?” Sam giggled and happily became an accomplice to this little crime. She took the bottle from Andrew with a smirk and started pouring. 

They both jumped at the voice hollering “SHOTS!” and turned to a guy built like a wall entering the kitchen, carrying a tray with shot glasses filled to the brim with clear liquid.  He made Andrew and Sam both take a glass from his tray, before smiling satisfied and moving on to the next victims. 

“Guess we’re doing this,” Sam said, staring down at the glass in her hand in fear. She had a sneaky suspicion that it was tequila and tequila just never preceded anything good. “Guess so,” Andrew replied, looking equally as fearful.

“Well,” He sighed exaggeratedly, “Sláinte!” He hooked his arm around Sam’s, as if they were newlyweds drinking champagne, and waited for her to catch up. Sam smiled at the gesture, meeting Andrew’s mischievous eyes and bringing the shot to her lips. 

They both slammed their shot glasses down and tried their best not to gag. “I knew it was gonna be tequila!” Sam immediately chased the shot with the drink she and Andrew had mixed. Luckily, it tasted more of Coke than vodka. 

Sam barely had any time to recover before the unmistakable opening of Chelsea Dagger started blasting from the living room and to drunk Sam, it was a siren song. “Oh my fucking God,” Sam squealed, grabbing Andrew’s hand and dragging him along with her. She had not even thought of asking him if he wanted to dance, if he was even comfortable with doing so. Right now, the only thing her mind could focus on was revelling in the utter joy this song brought about, laughing and singing along with Andrew. He seemed to also know the words and they made quite a show of performing to each other. Sam could see Andrew moved cautiously through the world, his limbs didn’t flow as easily as hers, but right now, he was all in.

As soon as the “To-do-do”’s kicked in again, Sam took Andrew’s hand, lifting his arm and spinning underneath it, a move that made him rejoice with laughter. Watching Sam enjoy herself like this, was a hypnotic experience. Andrew felt like he could study the sway of her hips and the corner of her grin for hours. His hands longed to touch.

Sam’s feet stumbled as she completed her move and she fell against Andrew’s chest, much closer to him than she had prepared herself for. She didn’t move, though. Too caught up in how close his face was to hers. She saw his eyes flit down to her lips, but quickly looked back, meeting her eyes again. Hers did the same - his lips looked so soft - but she could hear her heart beating in her ears, drowning out the music. Luckily, Andrew was the one who started to lean closer, his eyes drifting closed.

The music stopping abruptly cut Sam’s anticipation short. Andrew’s eyes shot open and the lively conversations around them fell quiet. “Alright, everyone out! Campus police just came to shut us down!” bellowed a voice from over by the soundsystem. 

-

“Thank you for walking me home,” Sam blushed. After their rude interruption, the house turned into an ant hill of people scattering to get rides home. Sam couldn’t find any of her flatmates and she was sure as hell not walking home alone. Luckily, Andrew offered to accompany her.

“No problem, just making sure you’re safe,” Andrew had his hands stuffed in his pockets. The courage he built up inside had completely dissipated and now Sam’s arms swinging at her sides felt more like a threat than an invitation. In an ideal world, he would have taken her hand all suave and confident and she would be so impressed and hopefully feel as infatuated and lightheaded as he did. He never wanted to be this far from her ever again. He wanted her alongside him for the rest of his days. 

“So lovely,” Sam hummed, “You’re so lovely,” and without any hesitation, she pulled his right hand from his pocket and intertwined their fingers. Andrew looked over in surprise and Sam was smiling with pure contentment, looking straight ahead at the dark sidewalk in front of them. If she was scared or nervous in any way, she definitely wasn’t showing it. Andrew was so happy that he almost forgot to stress about the sweaty mess his hands probably were.

With every step along the dilapidated sidewalk and around neglected shrubbery, Andrew’s courage began to build up little by little. When they stopped in front of her building, Sam looked up at him with the full moon shining in her eyes and a cautious smile on her face. He chickened out last minute, though, and his lips only brushed against her warm cheek for a second, but it sent electricity coursing through Andrew’s veins. He could climb a thousand mountains on the promise alone that he could kiss that cheek again. “G’night,” He murmured. 

Andrew hoped the memory of Sam’s wide smile as she waved and disappeared into her flat never left his mind. He practically sprinted home and in a rush, pulled his journal from the drawer that housed it. He grabbed the nearest pen. Inspiration had struck.

She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild

Lord, she found me just in time .

-

When one of Sam’s flatmates asked her if she wanted to join them in the library, she didn’t expect the expedition to turn out this stressful. She arrived in her joggers and messy hair and with no intention of impressing anybody, having decided that tonight was the night she would finally finished that horrid fucking essay. All those intentions came to an absolute standstill, however, when she approached the table her flatmate was seated at and a bunch of friendly faces looked up to greet her. One of those faces being Andrew’s. 

Sam could only hope that her smile disguised her panic well enough, especially when she saw the only open seat left at the table was the one across from Andrew. Her chest suddenly felt very tight. She tried to take a deep breath and set up her laptop as calmly as possible. Nobody needs to know that she was losing her absolute shit right now, especially not the cute boy she almost kissed at a party. 

She waited until she had her emotional support water bottle within reach and her Word document open before she sneaked a peak at him. God, he looked so cute. He was concentrating hard on the work in front of him and the way his curls fell onto his face made Sam's heart want to explode. She wondered if he would ever consider growing his hair out a bit longer, just long enough so that he could put it in a bun. He could probably pull it off so well.

Andrew really didn’t wanna look like a creep. He was trying his hardest to look busy, even though every fibre of his being was screaming for him to look up at Sam. She looked so pretty today. She looked so pretty every day. Her glasses sat low on the bridge of her nose, as though they had slipped down on her walk here and Andrew found it absolutely adorable. Okay, deep breaths, maybe if he did it quickly he wouldn’t get caught.

She was already looking when he looked up. Her eyes widened as if she was caught red-handed and Andrew couldn’t help but smile. Her cheeks were rapidly starting to resemble tomatoes, but she smiled back. Her smile made a pang of yearning shoot across Andrew’s chest. He had the burning desire to talk to her, although his mind couldn’t offer anything they could possibly chat about right now. Telling someone you wrote a poem about them would probably be very weird, right? Yeah, he definitely couldn’t do that. So he just accepted her smile with a racing heart and tried getting back to work.

Sam’s cheeks felt on fire. She had probably never been this embarrassed in her life. But she caught sight of Andrew’s pursed lips trying to hide a smile and she could almost feel them caress her cheek as they did a few nights ago. She placed her palm over the spot where Andrew kissed her, she had not stopped thinking about it since it happened. 

God, she wished she called him back and planted a proper kiss on him, but everything about him excited her and scared her to death. She carved his attention, but was anxiety-ridden about what she would do once she got it. It felt like finding food after being lost in a forest, but then as soon as you reach for it, the universe pulls the rope and the box lands over you, trapping you. But something about this boy made Sam want to dust off her highest hopes, something in his eyes promised her she wouldn’t get hurt.

In the middle of his revising, Andrew recognised the pencil he was writing with. It’s the one Sam lent him a couple of weeks ago. He tore a smaller piece of paper from his notepad, happily scribbling her a note.

Forgot to get this back to you! Thank you, I owe you one :)

- Andrew

He wrapped the note around the pencil and slid it over to Sam, who was caught off-guard but received it with a cautious smile. Andrew bit at his lip as he watched her eyes float along the note, smiling even bigger when she got to the end. She quickly looked up at him, eyes shining, and proceeded to write him a reply. 

Pretty sure you could make it up to me over dinner, you busy tomorrow? 

- Sam x

-

In the tin, Sam found souvenirs of their younger years. Andrew’s student card, miscellaneous bottle caps, an old pencil, and lots of folded bits of paper. Pulling out the first one she found, she unfolded it carefully. It was aged and she was deathly afraid of ripping it. Andrew had grown silent behind her.

The paper was yellowed and its folded dents ran deep, but in Andrew’s messy, loopy handwriting it read “She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild / Lord, she found me just in time”, lines from one of Sam’s favourite poems of his.

“When did you write this?” Her voice was shaky, something Sam had not anticipated. She kept her eyes on the scribbled note, knowing if she looked back at Andrew she might just start crying.

“The night we met,” Andrew spoke up, “Like properly met, the night of the party…”

She tried to recite the poem line for line in her head, as if it now held some secret message, like she had never read it properly before now. Sure, they’ve discussed Andrew’s poetry before, but Sam had never read it with this added context. She always felt too presumptuous, reading herself in Andrew’s work.

Sam ruffled through the tin again, finding the remnants of the various notes they had written each other over the years. Even finding the one where she asked him out, God, she was so self-assured in first year.

“I never knew you kept all this…” Her voice was full of disbelief. What did she do to deserve this man? Andrew quietly came and sat next to her, scavenging his old student card out of the tin and chuckling at how strange it was looking back at himself with much shorter hair. “You forget you aren’t the only sentimental one in this relationship…”

Andrew’s statement hung in the air for a bit. Sam didn’t know if it was the emotional and physical effects of moving, but she felt overwhelmed. The good kind, though. Overwhelmed with love and by the amazing life she was living. She took Andrew’s student card from his hand, looking down at the boy she had first fallen in love with. “What a lucky bastard he was, hey?” The now grown man next to her joked.

“You’ve got that right,” She laughed through how teary her eyes had become. She turned her head towards Andrew. “You know I love you to the ends of the earth, right?”

Andrew pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know,” He said, his lips brushing against her skin as he spoke, “You know I love you even when the apocalypse comes and life as we know it is destroyed, right?”

“Shut up,” Sam laughed, pushing Andrew away from her, playfully, “But let it be known we will make a kick-ass apocalyptic survival team! As long as it isn’t something that can’t be fought against, like a plague or something, ‘cause then it’s just a case of hiding, isn’t it?”

“Your mind is a wild place,” Andrew laughed, standing up and holding his hand out to help Sam up, “C’mon, let’s go make us some dinner.”

Notes:

Once again, just a quick thank you for all the support and lovely messages i have received from you all! They always make my day :)

If you have any ideas you'd like to share or prompts that you would like to see, as always, i can be found at icanttakethemonmyown on tumblr!

Chapter 2: Masters - all of that goodness (is going with you now)

Notes:

This chapter is in honour of Fearless (Taylor's Version). Shout out to Taylor Swift for making me relive every break-up/failed crush/emotion I've had since grade six, all on a random Friday in April. What a legend.

Also welcome to the prof!hozier universe, lizzy, love you.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Bless Lizzy's heart. She was trying her best.

It was Friday night and in their younger years, the two of them would be up dancing and singing along with the patrons of the local pub celebrating the week’s end, but now they were grumpy postgrads and Sam just had the week from hell. Andrew's flight was on Wednesday. The break-up happened Monday night. 

He had gotten the opportunity to do his Masters in London, leaving Sam to fulfill her's at home, without him. He had suggested using the time apart to see if a future together is really what they want, as they had been very ambitious in planning their lives intertwined with one another's. 

“I got drinks!” Lizzy sang, presenting Sam with a very fruity cocktail. Her attempts at infectious joy were only helping somewhat. Sam knew her eyes were still swollen and her face blotchy. She definitely looked the part of someone whose life was crumbling around them. “Thank you,” Sam met Lizzy's eyes, hopefully communicating how genuinely grateful she was for the distraction, before sucking on the paper straw like her life depended on it. 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Lizzy assured, also taking a sip of her equally fruity cocktail, “Right now, we can just enjoy each other’s company and the cheesy music.” The pub was playing golden oldies, certified to make any drunk person sing along, but right now, Sam was only set on drowning her sadness in alcohol. 

“Just you being here and me not being in bed, crying, is already helping a lot,” Sam started poking the ice in her drink around, she just wanted her chest to stop hurting. She knew she wasn’t being the best company at the moment, a mopey person never is, but she felt like she had every right to be absolutely devastated. The person she thought was the love of her life asked for “a break”, as if that didn’t imply a break- up and then disappeared right out of her life, robbing her of even the unpleasant, awkward run-ins after the fact. 

“Okay," Sam sighed, "It’s definitely time for tequila shots.”

-

“I love youuu,” Sam sang into Lizzy’s face, as they danced to the trashy music blasting through the speakers. The alcohol had had the desired effect that Sam was hoping for and she felt as light as a feather, she had always been a soppy drunk. “Love you too!” Lizzy laughed, finishing the drink she was clutching in her right hand and turning her full attention back to Sam. 

Both girls absolutely lost it when Since U Been Gone started playing, screaming along with the other girls on the dance floor. Sam had to clutch at Lizzy’s arms to keep her steady while jumping up and down, but she sang passionately, indulging in her feelings of frustration. She had to bathe in this short-term catharsis while she had it. 

-

“Sam? You alright?”

It sounded so loud in the sudden stillness of her flat, but his voice calmed her. It was groggy, the call had obviously woke him up, but Sam could feel the tension in her shoulders fading away. It was like she could finally breathe again after being knocked down by an aggressive wave. “Yeah, Andy, ‘m fine, just miss you…” Sam’s words languid as they crossed her lips. 

Andrew let out a deep breath that shot pain through Sam's chest, but he responded with a soft “I miss you too.”

She wondered where he was. In an unfamiliar flat, in an unfamiliar city. She couldn’t picture Andrew existing in spaces she’d never been to. She hated feeling this far away from him, not just geographically, but emotionally, too. She just wanted to rewind everything, back before she was confronted with a future so different from the one she had planned.

Sam sniffled and realised that she had started crying. “I’m sorry for calling, Lizzy took me out for drinks and I got home and you weren’t here to bring me water or help me take off my shoes or even just talk to and -” She paused to take a breath, but realised she was rambling and was instantly struck with regret, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done this, I’m so sorry.”

“Sammy, wait -” 

Sam could hear Andrew’s continued protests as she went to hang up the phone.

Notes:

What a nice intro to the break-up era, hey? (I'm so sorry)

Hugs and emotional support can be found at icanttakethemonmyown. !

Chapter 3: PhD - the first cringe of morning (my heart's already sinned)

Notes:

hi all! hope you are still doing well :) back to our regularly scheduled programming of domestic bliss after last time's pain and suffering lol enjoy!

Chapter Text

Cold fingertips shocked Sam out of her sleeping state. Without even opening her eyes, she let out a grunt of annoyance. The bed was all nice and cozy, warmed up from a night of preserving body heat, and now these intruders were disturbing her slumber. She heard Andrew chuckle. 

“Andrew, I swear to God,” She mumbled, her face still half smushed against her pillow. 

“Just want you a bit closer,” He whined, his grip tightening and pulling her body towards him. Suddenly Sam was enveloped in Andrew’s heat, his skin touching her all over. Their legs intertwined and Sam buried her head in his neck, desperately clinging to her sleepiness. Andrew let out a content sigh before his breathing regulated again. Sam smiled against his collarbone, pressing a soft kiss to it. 

It wasn’t until a few hours later when she woke up properly. Andrew’s tiny snores came from somewhere above her head, but as soon as Sam started moving, he too started to emerge from his deep slumber. The cold nipped at her skin as Sam sat up and shed the protective layer of the duvet. “You want some tea?” She mumbled, rubbing at her eyes. Andrew let out an affirmative noise, still not courageous enough to attempt being awake. 

Sam’s feet moved quickly, sprinting to the jumper Andrew had left on the floor last night. She took a moment to enjoy feeling its softness against her bare skin. She looked back at Andrew, who had remarkably managed to sit up against the bedframe and put on his glasses. He smiled at her, a muted, tired smile. 

Andrew had to admit, Sam half-naked in his jumper was quite the sight and he, as any mortal man would, indulged himself in the view of her leaving the room. She was, after all, a magnificent sight, one he thanked his lucky stars for each night. Andrew’s eyes quickly flicked over to Seamus, having woken up from the movement, and smiled in amusement as he happily trailed behind Sam quietly out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. 

 

Sam’s eyes weren’t opened properly yet, but muscle memory guided her to the kettle and it began to hum with life. A stubborn yawn overwhelmed her as she opened the fridge to get the milk and she felt Seamus’ fur against her leg. “Morning, buddy,” She mumbled, slightly bending down to pet him with her free hand. Sam stood upright again as she closed the fridge door and for some reason, the photos she and Andrew have decorated it with caught her eye.

Their fridge was decorated with a plethora of photos and mementos. She had never really paid it much mind, it had become part of the background noise and the collage of memories had formed over time. Every photo being put up one for one. Sam smiled at the polaroid selfie Andrew had taken when he tested out the camera he got for Sam for a birthday. It was out of focus and portrayed a wide smile from Andrew as Seamus took up half of the frame in an attempt to lick Andrew’s face. 

Her eyes drifted to the printed out email blu-tacked next to it. It was from Andrew’s publishing house, confirming his second poetry collection was getting published. Sam remembers so vividly the excitement Andrew had rushed into the room with. Sam was on the couch reading a book in the living room and Andrew came sprinting in, laptop in hand, nearly falling over one of Seamus’ toys. Words flooded out of his mouth, so much so that Sam couldn’t quite make out what was going on. “Babe, calm down, breathe. What’s going on?” She took his arm and made him sit on the couch next to her. “The book...my poems...It’s happening!” was all he could get out between breaths. Sam knew how stressed he had been. Imposter syndrome had taken a hold and Andrew had somehow convinced himself his first poetry collection and its success had been a fluke. There was no way he would get the opportunity to publish again.

Sam had squealed and clapped with joy. “I knew you could do it!” She immediately embraced him, almost causing his laptop to fall from his lap. She took Andrew’s face between her hands and looked deep into his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, my love,” She had whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. The next morning, to celebrate Andrew’s achievement, Sam had printed out the email and stuck it to the fridge, to remind Andrew of his talents and how much he had achieved through his hard work. She also made him some pancakes, but that made a mess more than it did anything else. 

Sam chuckled at the photo strip that sat crooked near one of the fridge’s door handles. It was from a friend’s wedding when they were all still busy with their PhD’s. They had one of those cheesy vintage photobooths at the reception and drunk-on-champagne Sam couldn’t resist. She had dragged Andrew in there with her and with his tall frame, it was quite a tight fit. Sam was a giggly mess, haphazardly balanced on Andrew’s lap, pressing kisses all over his face. That is what the first photo captured. Andrew’s blushing, laughing face being held in Sam’s hands and her enthusiastically pressing a kiss to his temple. 

Drunk Andrew was also handsy Andrew and the second photo captured Sam’s surprise at Andrew’s hand coming to rest on her ass. Andrew’s hand was out of the view of the camera so the photo just depicted Sam yelping and Andrew grinning mischievously. The next photo was just them recovering from laughing at the outrageous sound Sam had made in surprise at Andrew’s forwardness. 

The last photo was Sam’s favourite. Probably knowing they had wasted half of their photos and needed a cute one, Andrew pulled Sam in for a kiss. A tender one with his hand (the one not on her ass) brushing her hair out of her face. It was a moment of sweet and utter bliss, just two lovers caught up in one another.

The boring stuff was strangely enough the thing that made Sam the most emotional. The schedules and the reminders of departmental meetings. All the small stuff that reminded her that she and Andrew have a life together and she shares each day with the best person she knows. She gets to face each day with her best friend at her side.

Before she could get too sentimental, the kettle clicked off next to her, indicating the water was ready. She rushed to get the tea bags and mugs ready. Andrew was probably waiting impatiently in bed. She had hardly filled up the second mug when she heard his soft steps echo through the quiet house. 

Sam smiled as Andrew entered the kitchen, his hair was still wild, but he had put on sweatpants between here and the bed. “Forgot to probably greet you ‘good morning’” Andrew confessed, coming to stand behind Sam, winding his arms around her middle. “Good morning,” He whispered against her shoulder, placing a kiss where his breath hit her skin. “Morning,” Sam giggled in response, happily stirring away at their cups of tea. 

Andrew continued to place kisses to Sam’s skin, beginning at her shoulder and moving up into her neck. His hair tickled her and she couldn’t keep her laugh in. “You are insatiable,” She teased, turning around in his arms and holding out his cup of tea to him. Mischief gleamed in his eye, a gleam that wasn’t there before. “You wanna go back to bed?” Sam asked, studying Andrew’s face intently. He looked torn, his eyes flicking between his newly made cup of tea and Sam’s lips. “We can finish the tea first?” She offered, laughing at how Andrew was starting to look genuinely distraught. 

“Okay, finish the tea first, but then I’m racing you back to bed,” Andrew agreed, taking his cup from Sam.

“Deal,” Sam chuckled, taking a big gulp from her cup. 

Chapter 4: Masters - i'm almost me again (she's almost you)

Notes:

Ah, welcome back! Today I present to you The Break-Up (Andrew's Version), in the form of what is practically a songfic. A gold star for the one who can guess which song lol

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Andrew’s recollections of the night were fuzzy. A few classmates had invited him out to the pub, but he suddenly found himself at her flat, sharing a joint and listening to records. She was a classmate and they had a habit of bumping into each other and chatting in the hallways. She had a nice face and a warm demeanour and Andrew was only a man. A lonely one, at that.

She was already there when he arrived at the pub and after a lively conversation, she convinced Andrew to come back to her place. They had originally bonded over music and she had insisted on showing him her vinyl collection. Her flat wasn’t too big, but cosy enough that Andrew didn’t feel claustrophobic. The music flowed from her record player to where they were seated on the couch and Andrew couldn’t help but focus on the warmth of her palm on his knee. 

“I must say you’re looking a lot better than you did at the start of the semester,” She mused, the ember of the joint glowing as she took a long drag. It looked delicate between her fingers and she made eye contact with him as she placed the joint between his lips. Her eyes were intoxicating, but the longer Andrew looked into them, the more the gnawing feeling of familiarity grew. 

“Yeah,” Andrew laughed after taking a drag, trying his best to appear cool, calm, and collected, “I probably looked like a ghost, just floating about.” 

She smiled, slyly and hummed an affirmation. There were only a few puffs left. He was unsure if she knew the reason for his unwell appearance at the start of the course. It's not like he was shouting the fact that he basically ruined his chances with the love of his life from the rooftops or anything. 

Andrew spent the first few months in London wrought with guilt. Past Andrew had convinced him his decision to break-up with Sam was a good idea - have them experience life without each other to ensure that one together was something they really wanted. Ever since he had gotten the offer to do his Master’s in London, a feeling had been gnawing at him. Would he be holding Sam back if he had expected long distance of her? Would she be missing out on life in her twenties, causing her to resent Andrew when they were older? The old saying of loving something and letting it go was something he had clung to for comfort and reassurance, but that well had run dry as of late. 

Andrew watched as she leaned over to put the joint out and simultaneously readjusted her seating position. Now her lips were much too close to his. Andrew felt like he was on a cliff’s edge, staring at the rumbling waves below. It was like they were calling out to him, promising either the refreshment of cool water or bone crushing rocks. He just had to...jump. 

Her lips were soft and it was as if the tension in Andrew’s shoulders melted. His soul longed for companionship, his body longed for much more. Her fingers felt nice in his hair and her tongue tasted of smoke. But then it was as if a switch flipped. Andrew suddenly became aware of Chet Baker crooning in his ears. 

I've forgotten you
Just like I should
Of course, I have
Except to hear your name
Or someone's laugh that is the same
But I've forgotten you just like I should

“You alright?” She laughed in confusion, Andrew having frozen on the spot. Her laugh sent a chill down his spine. It was as if Sam was there with him in the room. He stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling very out of breath. “Ehm...yeah. ‘m alright, sorry.” Something was pulling him away from this couch, from this flat, from this situation. He knew it was wrong, using this girl as a hopeless attempt at removing the hole in his chest, but he was a thirsty man having just spotted an oasis. Raw, overexerted hands had brought his body this far, he just had to keep crawling...

Andrew cautiously sat back down. She looked slightly concerned, but welcomed his presence. Her lips were red and shining even in the dim light. Andrew knew he was going to hate himself in the morning, but right now, listening to his heart will only ruin this. 

-

A car honking in the street down below woke Andrew up. His naked chest was exposed to the cold air and his breathing was frantic, like he had just woken up from a nightmare. The sound of the duvet moving made Andrew turn his head. “Everything alright?” She mumbled, still half-asleep. 

Andrew almost scoffed. What a question that was. He wouldn’t even know where to start if he were to answer honestly. This whole week went to shit the moment he heard Chet Baker in that coffee shop on Monday, prompting a realisation that hit Andrew like a ton of bricks. It was as if all the music he loved now had a big Sam-shaped stain on them. All his favourite songs were wrapped up in memories he himself had ruined, so did he even have the right to long for them?

Andrew had become a pro at suppressing these feelings, but hearing Chet again in such a moment of weakness made all of Andrew’s defences crumble. It was like the music was following him around, set on reminding him of his wrongdoings at every turn. 

He wished he could call Sam. Ever since she had drunkenly called him a few days after he had left, he had longed to do the same. Getting drunk and using that as the excuse, when he just wanted to hear her voice again, wanted to tell her he was sorry. But ever since Alex had told him that he had heard from a friend that Sam seemed to be doing well, something had kept Andrew from reaching out. Maybe his past self was right, she was better off. She was out there, enjoying life, without him.

He laid there in the dark until he heard her breathing start to regulate again, mentally planning the quietest route out of there. God, where did he leave his trousers?

Notes:

Feeling hurt? Disappointed? On the brink of a murderous rage? You are not alone! Help can be found in my asks (icanttakethemonmyown), I would love to hear from you :)

Chapter 5: Undergraduate - i knew well from our first hook-up (the look of mischief in your eyes)

Notes:

hi everyone! Sorry I disappeared for a bit, had some personal happenings and my life fell apart for a bit. But I'm back now and I hope you all enjoy :)

As per the title being from the masterpiece Dinner & Diatribes, this chapter is somewhat *spicy* so reader discretion is advised.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Andrew tugged at the collar of the fancy shirt he had to put on for this godforsaken event. It scratched his neck and he was desperate to free himself of this irritation. They were in a stuffy hall, rented out by the English Department for the publication of some journal or other, and students were encouraged to come. It was pitched as an useful introduction to the academic world, but right now nothing sounded better to Andrew than the sweet relief of getting the fuck out of here. 

He nodded in response to his conversational partner, hoping it was appropriate for whatever they had been saying. A quick sip of his drink and a scan of the rest of the room led Andrew’s eyes to meet with Sam’s. She, too, was caught in a conversation. 

She smiled coyly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, herself a victim of unpleasant conversation. From across the room, Andrew could finally properly take in the dress she was wearing. A deep green she looked absolutely stunning in. A crass thought flashed through Andrew’s mind and he could vividly picture his hand sliding the dress up her smooth thigh. He shook his head, as if to shake the thought out of it, and returned his attention back to more appropriate things. 

Sam couldn’t argue, there’s nothing like a man in formal wear. She struggled to keep her attention away from Andrew, who across the room looked deep in conversation with one of their classmates. She could already practically feel the stiff fabric of his shirt under her fingers, but they were stuck at this stupid gala evening that seemed to serve the sole purpose of schmoozing with the English department. 

“So you and Andrew are together now, yeah?” Emma asked, catching Sam once again stealing a glimpse at Andrew. Sam could feel her cheeks warming a bit and nodded, “Yeah, it’s been about six months…” 

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Emma gushed, “Now the class has its own little power couple!” 

Sam laughed awkwardly, trying not to let on how uncomfortable that comment made her. Her relationship did not ask for spectators, thank you very much. “Oh, I think Prof Southwood is calling me over, I’ll see you later,” Sam excused herself, even though she hadn’t seen Professor Southwood all night and was pretty sure she wasn’t even here. 

Her feet led her straight to Andrew, whose conversation had just finished. She leaned in close to his ear and whispered: "How long until we can get the fuck out of here?"

Andrew swung around in surprise and as if by instinct, his hand went to rest on the small of Sam's back, reacting to her sudden presence. "I have no idea," He whispered back, "But I've been dying to leave since we got here."

Sam took hold of Andrew’s tie, pulling at it a bit, “I must say you are looking particularly handsome tonight, Mr. Byrne.” A mischievous smile decorated her face, a smile that made Andrew’s heartbeat that little bit faster. “Why, thank you, Ms Brown, might I add you too are looking absolutely breathtaking this evening,” Andrew took a bit of her dress between his fingers and rubbed the soft material together - cutting the act, he added: “ Really loving this dress...”

Andrew’s voice had deepened with those words and Sam couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement run through her body. She could almost hear the unspoken cliche: “Would love it a whole lot more on my floor, though…”

Sam cleared her throat, hoping her words would come out more restrained than she meant them, “What’s the time? Would it be unreasonable for us to leave right now?”

Andrew stretched out his arm, revealing the watch under his sleeve. He sighed dramatically, “It’s not even eight yet. As much as it pains me to say this, I think we should hang around until nine, at the very least.”

Sam pulled a face, suddenly feeling like a toddler wanting to throw a tantrum. “Fiiiine,” She moped, “But as soon as the clock hits nine, you’re coming to get me and taking me home.”

“Oh, definitely.”

-

Sam and Andrew orbited around each other for the rest of the night. Every glance, every touch made Sam feel like her skin was on fire. She hoped to God that she looked calm on the outside, because her emotions were anything but. Andrew was also not helping at all. 

When they were caught in conversations together, Sam tried her best not to look at him, because every time they made eye contact Andrew would smile an absolutely filthy smile and his eyes would slide all the way down her body. A rush of excitement ran through her every time and she hoped her foundation disguised her flushed cheeks.

All this small talk had begun to feel like a prison. Every time Sam tried to stand closer to Andrew, a classmate would approach her and steal her away to participate in another philosophical discussion. All she wanted to do was walk right through the semi-circle everyone was standing in, grab Andrew and take him home with her for them to have their way with each other. And not that she would tell anybody this, but she bought this dress specifically for the way Andrew would delicately unzip it when they got back to his flat.

After another particularly lustful look from her boyfriend, Sam got an idea. She couldn't take this teasing, eye contact-tag they were playing anymore. She winked at Andrew and quietly excused herself from the conversation, prompting an inquisitive look from Andrew. This was a break in the pattern. Usually his smiles would elicit that cute little flustered expression she thought she was good at hiding, now it seems she had other plans. 

If Sam's predictions were correct, it wouldn't be long until he too excused himself and followed along after her. She dipped away from the crowds and into the hallway, on her way to the bathroom. Her racing, one track mind stopped for a second to observe how different the hallways looked at night, the shadows and abandoned rooms making everything look more dramatic. 

Before her palm even properly wrapped around the door handle, Sam could hear familiar footsteps echo behind her. "Took you long enough," She chuckled, not even bothering to check if it was Andrew. She took a moment before opening the door, indulging in the satisfied smirk on her face.

Sam calmly walked to the sink, checking on the state of her hair and make-up, suddenly playing very coy. Andrew appeared through the door seconds later, an absolutely wild look in his eyes. Their eyes met in the mirror and it was Sam's turn for filthy smiles. 

Andrew rushed over, like he couldn’t spend another second without his hands on her body. He spun her around so that she was finally facing him. They could finally be as close as he had been craving them to be, given the circumstances. He stood frozen for a moment, as if he needed a second to take in the absolute vision in front of him.

His hands rested on her middle until they started travelling downwards, rubbing the cold satin of her dress against her warm skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Sam’s eyes followed Andrew’s hands - the image of his hands firmly around her hips exactly as thrilling as she thought it would be.

She looked up when his hands reached her ass, unintentionally letting out the tiniest gasp. Andrew’s face was the perfect mix of lust, reverence and disbelief. Sam couldn’t hold out any longer. She kissed him, her hands framing his face, pulling him even closer so that their bodies slotted together. She could taste the complimentary red wine on his tongue.

Much to her surprise, Andrew picked her up, placing her gently on the countertop that had been digging into her back. His agency only excited Sam more and she started pulling at his shirt, wanting him closer, closer, closer. 

Andrew made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, not daring to break the kiss. He could finally rest his hands on Sam's thighs, her seated position having made her dress ride up. He squeezed before sliding his hands upwards, taking the dress with him. 

Similarly, Sam started pulling at Andrew's tie, desperately wanting to feel the coarse hair on his chest under her fingers. She barely had control of her fine motor functions so trying to untie a tie was probably an ambitious goal. 

Andrew laughed against her lips as she continued to struggle. He pulled away, loosening the wretched thing with seemingly no effort whatsoever. Sam hummed happily as Andrew popped a few of his buttons too. In the half a year they've been together, it was still something that excited her like it was the first time, each time - touching him. And Andrew was obviously very happy to indulge her. 

Sam was all wrapped up in the feeling of Andrew running his thumb across the edges of her underwear. She hardly had time to enjoy teasing Andrew with a bit of hair pulling before a loud noise in the hallway alerted her.

Oh, fuck. The hallway. They were in public. Oh God, were they really about to - ? Footsteps and chatty voices echoed from outside. "Andrew, move!" Sam had to physically detach him from her neck, "Someone's coming!" Andrew snorted at that remark before registering the weight of it. "Oh, shit," His eyes widened in utter panic, his body frozen, and it was up to Sam to lead them to a bathroom stall.

If anyone were to find them like this, they would be the talk of the town for the rest of the semester. And Sam didn't have the strength to deal with the rest of the class' knowing glances right now, especially Emma's.

As if by God's grace, the bathroom door didn't open until Sam secured the stall's lock. Two female voices reverberated through the tiled room and with the blood rushing in her ears, Sam couldn't even focus on what they were saying. She was set on keeping as quiet as humanly possible. Safely behind a locked door, Sam finally had a chance to turn to Andrew, to take in his appearance. He looked guilty as all sin, what with his messy hair, undid tie and unbuttoned and untucked shirt. She assumed she didn't look much better. The straps of her dress were hanging off her shoulders and she could feel her half up-half down hairdo had fully said goodbye to the half up part.

Sam slapped her hand over her mouth. She couldn't help but giggle. This was all so absurd. They had never done something like this. Never did Sam see herself doing something as daring as hooking up in the bathroom. The more she tried to stop herself from laughing, the more difficult it became. And of course, her giggles were contagious. 

Andrew tried his best to mime a "shush" motion, but his giggles betrayed him too. They clung to each other, trying their best to be as silent as possible. 

After what felt like a lifetime of taps opening and closing and small talk about people Sam didn't know, she finally heard the bathroom door close again. Waiting a few seconds, just to make sure the people had left, she slowly unlocked the stall door and peeked out. "Okay, I think we're safe." 

They tumbled out of the stall and both erupted with laughter. "Jesus Christ," Andrew wheezed, trying to catch his breath. 

"Look at us," Sam laughed, looking at their reflections in the mirror. It was very obvious what they were getting up to. They couldn't look more sexually disheveled if they tried.

"It's not that bad," Andrew tried, still breathless. He tucked Sam's hair behind her ear, only for it to spring back into place. She studied his face as he tried to salvage her appearance. He was obviously still flustered and worked up, but determined nonetheless. It was adorable.

"We just to have to look relatively normal," Sam joined in, starting to rebutton Andrew's shirt, "Just enough for - Wait, what's the time?"

Checking his watch, a huge smile spread across Andrew's face, "9:15 on the dot. Home time." 

"Oh, thank God," Sam sighed in relief, abandoning Andrew's tie, because how the fuck does that thing even work? He can retie it himself. 

In possibly the quickest attempt to get properly redressed by anyone ever, the two tried their best to look respectable. Just enough for them to slip out of the function unnoticed and not suspicious-looking at all. 

Before exiting the bathroom, Sam paused in front of the door. She turned to Andrew. "I love you," She stated. It was a new gift they had only recently started giving each other and the words still held a strange formality. Not that she thinks the meaning will fade with time, but now saying it was still an event. She could still count on her fingers the amount of times they've said it. She couldn't wait for that to change.

Andrew's face lit up with a lotto winning smile. "Love you too," He replied, giving her a quick kiss, "Now can we please get home? I had plans that were very rudely interrupted."

 

Notes:

Would love to hear any and all thoughts and feelings, you know where to find me (icanttakethemonmyown. !)

Chapter 6: PhD - know that i would gladly be the icarus to your certainty (my sunlight)

Notes:

this is one of the first things i wrote outside of the original piece (the one you all know as wasteland baby) and i'm so glad it can finally see the light. it has existed in so many versions and drafts, so i hope you enjoy the end result.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Fuck’s sake, does it need to be this hot?” Sam was fanning herself as they continued strolling through the farmer’s market. Andrew chuckled, feeling he was adequately dressed in his t-shirt and long trousers. Sam was wearing a pretty sundress and sandals so he had no clue how she was still complaining about the heat. 

“D’you wanna borrow my hair tie?” He offered, sticking out his wrist, presenting the thin black band that rested there. “Oh yes, please, thank you,” Sam grabbed his hand, removing the hair tie before he could do so himself. Her eagerness elicited another chuckle from Andrew. He watched as she put her hair up into a high ponytail, struck by her effortless elegance. The content smile on Sam’s face as she tightened her ponytail a bit, gave it a little wiggle and intertwined her hand with Andrew’s again nearly made his whole day. He found immense comfort in the fact that he could still fall in love with Sam in such small moments, all over again. 

It was a suspiciously nice summer’s day and they had decided to make the most of it by visiting their local farmer’s market. It was always very lively. The majority of town usually came out to support. A bunch of the ladies in town made jams and a variety of pickled things. Andrew’s favourite stall was the one the owner of the local bookshop always put up. Fred had lived in town his entire life and the bookshop had been run by his family for generations. He knew Andrew quite well by now.

This was, naturally, where Sam found him when he had disappeared from beside her. He was in a deep discussion with Fred about some book he was holding. It looked worn and well-loved, Sam knew that was Andrew’s favourite kind of book. “Morning, Fred,” she chirped, appearing next to Andrew and interlocking her arm with his free one. Fred’s smile brightened, “Morning, Samantha! How are we doing?”

“Oh, no complaints. Just enjoying the weather while we have it. This one keeping you busy again?” She replied, cocking her head in Andrew’s direction with the last question. “Oh, you know it,” Fred laughed, “Trying to convince him to add to his collection.”

Andrew looked torn, as if the thought of leaving the book behind deeply troubled him. Sam was sure he was thinking of their overflowing, slowly-collapsing-under-their-own-weight bookcases at home. A solution popped into Sam’s head. “Y’know, babe, maybe you can ask Fred to hold it for you till you get around to reorganizing the bookcases…”

Andrew still looked a bit uncertain. “I’ll even help you clear it out,” Sam offered, thinking it would help. Panic shot through Andrew’s body, his mind immediately going to the little box he had hid behind his beaten-up collection of classics, the ones Sam never looked at. “Ehm, no, no! No need for that, I’ll do it myself,” Andrew’s voice sounded way too rushed to not sound suspicious, but he hoped Sam didn’t catch on to anything. He turned his attention back to Fred, “You wouldn’t mind keeping it for me, would you, Fred?” The old man smiled and took the book back, “Anything for my favourite customer!”

The couple continued on to the other stalls, perusing and stopping here and there getting ingredients for tonight's dinner. Eventually Sam pulled Andrew to the stall put out by the local thrift store, as they always had the coolest vintage t-shirts and Sam prided herself in her collection. She methodically browsed the racks, having learned that patience is key with these types of expeditions. Andrew indulged her by going through the hangers on the other side, trying his best to look like he was taking this very seriously. Sam peaked over the rack and grinned at Andrew’s concentrated face.

She was in the midst of thinking of a teasing comment when Andrew’s face suddenly changed to one of utter delight. “Honey, look!” He held up a hanger with the most adorable excited face. It was a light gray shirt looking like it had belonged to a mechanic years and years ago. It had red detailing and Sam couldn’t quite make out the name that was stitched on the right breast. “Oh my god, that looks so cool!” Sam responded, rushing to Andrew's side of the rack, “You want to check if it fits?” 

Andrew scoffed playfully, as if the shirt not fitting is an utterly preposterous suggestion. Sam shot him a knowing look, “You act as if you’ve not been living with those broad shoulders for years…"

The shirt fit perfectly. Andrew had simply thrown it on over his t-shirt and it looked like it was made specially for him. Sam even clapped when it fell perfectly on Andrew's shoulders. "You have to get it. I'll even pay for it if I have to!" Sam insisted, running her hands across the fabric and correcting the collar. Andrew smiled at Sam's enthusiasm and looked down at the shirt again. It did look pretty cool, if he did say so himself. "Fine," Andrew sighed with comedic exaggeration, as if there was even a fight to put up. 

-

"Can we take the long way home?" Sam asked as they got into the car, "I wanna see the ocean." It was not a strange request from her and Andrew was happy to oblige. It was days like these where Andrew felt truly happy. He wasn't sure if it was the collective excitement of the sun finally shining that rubbed off on him or the privilege of getting to see Sam in her sundresses, but it was as if he couldn't stop smiling. 

He looked over and Sam was in her own little world. She had put on a Spotify playlist she made specially for days like these and was singing along to her heart's content. He was once again struck by the abandon with which she always enjoyed herself. She was acting out lyrics with eyes closed and arms flying. It was one of his life’s greatest honours that he was one of the few people who got to hear Sam’s singing voice.

The sun illuminated her thighs, which had been exposed by her dress riding up when she sat down. Andrew couldn’t help himself and gently placed his palm against her warm skin. With a little squeeze and the smile that it elicited from Sam, Andrew drew his attention back to the road. Today had been one big, relaxing exhale and he couldn’t wait to have days like this for the rest of his life.

-

Andrew was apparently pulling out all the stops for dinner tonight, as Sam had been shooed out of the kitchen. “We’ve been exiled by Mr. Masterchef over there,” She told Seamus as he accompanied her to the living room, where Sam decided to wait it out and read until she was allowed back again. She could vaguely hear music coming from around the corner and could hear Andrew singing along, but couldn’t quite recognise what was playing. He must be in the zone then, if the only distraction he was allowing himself was his cooking playlist. 

Sam was two chapters in when a yelp made both her and Seamus sit up. The music was still blaring, but Sam had a sneaking suspicion that Andrew might have had an accident. A meek “Baaaaabe?” confirmed her suspicions. 

She rushed to the kitchen to find a panicked Andrew on the floor clutching a bleeding finger. Sam sank down on her knees to join Andrew on his level. Independent Women Pt. 1 was blaring from his phone and the shock and the absurdity of it all made Sam erupted in giggles. “Are you alright?” She tried to suppress her laughter, knowing it would only be poking the bruise of Andrew’s ego. “You are never allowed to tell Alex about this,” were the first words out of his mouth, “He already thinks I’m the Kelly.” With this it was impossible for Sam to not laugh, she cackled before somehow managing to snort out a “I’m sorry” and a “I promise!”

“Can you go get me a plaster, please?”

“Alright, okay, I’ll be right back. Run some water over it while I’m gone!” Sam disappeared into the hallway again and Andrew looked down to see he had not only ruined his plans for the evening, but a perfectly good shirt as well. There is nothing romantic about your partner cutting themselves because they were rocking out to their 90s Jams too hard. God, he was an idiot. He knew he would mess it up somehow, the moment was too big. Somewhat sulky, he got up from the floor and walked over to the sink. Now Destiny Child’s prompting “throwing your hands up” at them felt more like a taunt than anything else. 

“How bad is it? Do you think I’ll be okay if I look?” Sam entered the kitchen with one hand over her eyes and the other one holding out the plaster in front of her. Andrew accessed his wound now that it was a bit cleaner, it looked surface-level at best. “Yeah, just stings a bit. It looks alright, you can look. Can’t have my carer passing out, now can I?”

“Ha-ha,” Sam said, sarcastically, “I can leave you to look after your severed finger yourself, y’know?” She joined him at the sink and helped him to apply the plaster. She could tell by the little rift between his eyebrows that he was frustrated, a level of frustration that couldn’t be attributed to a small accident alone. She made a mental note to check in one him later in the week. Maybe it was work - although Andrew had been gushing about his classes lately, so that didn’t sound like a plausible explanation. 

The most she could do right now was wrap the plaster around his finger delicately and press a soft kiss to it. Andrew smiled his lovely warm smile at that gesture and Sam felt accomplished. “I heard it helps to make it get better quicker,” She joked, quickly pressing another kiss to Andrew’s finger, pausing before they had to face reality and turn around and assess the state of their dinner.

 

Notes:

shout out to "summer girl" by haim for inspiring this chapter and also being the song i imagine sam to be singing in the car. you are welcome to share any thoughts on what you think sam was singing or what you think andrew's big plans were with me, over on icanttakethemonmyown on tumblr :)

Chapter 7: Masters - don't let it in with no intention to keep it

Notes:

Recommended Reading:
Pressure to Party - Julia Jacklin
I Almost Do - Taylor Swift

(Thank you for sticking with me - here's to the reunion era we've all been waiting for)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

If anyone asked, Sam would say she was doing alright. 

Her thesis was well underway. She could wake up each morning and face the day. She had weekly wine nights with the girls. She had even been on a few dates, although they never went anywhere. In short, she felt human again. Or so she had convinced herself. 

Her life had been filled with spontaneous, indulgent rebellion. She had cut her hair, gotten a nose ring, even smoked every now and then. Constantly trying to prove some thing to some one . She tried not to delve too deep into what might have caused these feelings of frustrations. She could no longer afford to fantasize about what might happen if she were to ever run into him again. She had spent months swinging on a pendulum of wanting to fight him and wanting to fall into his arms and start crying.

Now she felt like she could finally go to parties without that annoying hope that she might see his face in the crowd, without the childish wish that he might have returned to her. So naturally, this would be the perfect moment for the universe’s sense of humour to kick in.

Some university friend was having a Christmas party and everyone was basically treating it like a reunion. People Sam hadn’t seen since graduation were coming up to her to swap stories of their “crazy uni days” and Sam had to remind herself of why exactly she came to this party after each excruciating exchange. The only reasons she could think of was that Lizzy had asked her nicely and that the host of the party once looked after a very drunk Sam in second year, so the least Sam owed her was her attendance at a lame Christmas party. 

Sam had clung to Lizzy’s side for the majority of the night, but Lizzy had selfishly left her on her own with only the instructions to go get her a new cider while she went for a wee. Sam had sighed, but she went in search of the huge ice filled tub anyway. Someone had the bright idea of filling a big plastic tub with ice and ciders and leaving it out for the guest to devour. And Sam knew that you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, free booze was free booze after all. 

She inspected the tub, crouching down and eyeing which bottle she could take without getting her hands too wet. One of the ciders stuck out above the ice and it looked like a promising candidate. But as soon as Sam stretched her arm out to grab it, her hand collided with someone else’s. Her head shot up, annoyed, before meeting the eyes she once called home. 

They both sat there crouched down, too shocked to move. Sam had truly not expected to see Andrew here, but there he was. All her wildest dreams and her darkest nightmares coming true all at once. 

“You cut your hair,” Andrew said, more out of shock than anything else. The version of Sam he had been clinging to was now somewhat shattered. She looked so different, yet not changed at all. Her eyes still held their twinkling curiosity, but now much more cautious than what he was used to. 

“You haven’t,” She replied, noting that Andrew’s hair hung almost past his shoulders now. A length he would usually never reach, as it would start to annoy him too much. For the first time since they had met, Andrew’s hair was longer than Sam’s. She wondered if he was making a statement or if he was just letting it grow out out of sheer laziness. He tucked a strand of it behind his ear when she noted it, bashful as always.

They both stood up, without the ciders they had initially crouched down for. Too afraid that if they ruin this moment, the other might disappear and reveal themselves as a weird hallucination.

"I like it….Y-your hair, I mean. It looks nice," Andrew’s mouth was on autopilot. His brain was too busy trying to take in everything and making sure his heart didn’t explode from beating too hard. She looked beautiful. She had a nose ring . God, was he about to hyperventilate? The moment felt too big.

“Thank you. I, uh, I like your sweater.” She looked down and started fidgeting with her nails. There was a strange neutrality to her voice that only sent Andrew’s thundering heart into overdrive. She looked so...guarded. Andrew felt like falling to his knees and apologising. Instead he opted for, what he hoped was, a light and breezy “This old thing? It’s not a Christmas party without it, right?”

This was not how either of them had envisioned their reunion. Sam was not sure what she wanted. Some days she just longed for his familiarity, wishing that she could just retreat into his arms and forget this whole mess happened. Some days she wanted to cuss him out for what he did and never speak to him again. Andrew wanted to invite her out for coffee while he was in town, to extend the proverbial olive branch. He owed her that much. But now here he was, unprepared, gasping for air in the presence of the only girl he ever truly loved.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be in town. I’m guessing you’ve come for the holidays…” Sam desperately tried to fill the silence. As much as she wanted to lash out, she didn’t want him to leave. Being in Andrew’s presence again made her feel like she had spent half a year underwater and now finally managed to come up for air. Her lungs burned, but she could finally breathe.

“Uh, yeah. Can’t have the family popping Christmas crackers without me,” Andrew laughed nervously, looking down at his shoes. He had to desperately resist the urge to tell Sam how much he missed her, how she was still all he thought about. But how selfish would that be? Did he really expect her to just absolve him completely and things going back to normal? What was this normality he craved even? 

“Oh, send my love to Raine, please. How is she doing?” Sam’s face lit up at the mention of Andrew’s family. He remembered how the two most important women in his life absolutely adored each other and knew that Sam’s sentiments were genuine. He could already see his mother practically squealing at the fact that Sam had sent her love.

“She’s doing well, she actu-”

“Sammy, you wouldn’t believ - Oh my god,” Lizzy unknowingly interrupted Andrew after her return from the bathroom, but reacted accordingly to his presence. The three of them stood there in a strange silence, while Sam tried to stave off the feelings of shame. She felt like she had been caught doing something wrong, like Lizzy would start telling her off once they were in private. Next came the wave of frustration - she was overcome with a desire for Lizzy to just leave, to let her and Andrew have this moment alone before reality and its expectations kicked in. 

"Hi, Lizzy. You well?" Andrew greeted, cordially. Lizzy still looked a bit shell-shocked, like she didn’t quite believe she was seeing Andrew in front of her and also a bit unsure of what to do about it. Her best friend instincts told her to send Andrew packing. He had hurt Sam and Lizzy feared he would take advantage of her forgiving nature. But then there was also a side of her, perhaps the more rational side, that knew Andrew and his kindness and, probably like Sam at this moment, wanted to hear him out. 

“Yeah, no complaints. You?” She responded, her attempt at neutrality coming across more as snide. Andrew looked like he was trying to suppress a wince. "I'm well, it feels good to be back, if only for the holidays…"

A bout of silence followed his statement and Andrew could feel himself begin to panic again. "I should probably get Alex his drink," he managed to get out, gesturing to the tub of drinks that brought him and Sam together. Lizzy's eyes were studying him closely. "It was lovely to see you again," he greeted, before meeting Sam's eyes and adding: "Genuinely."

Christmas passed without further excitement. Sam loved being home with her parents, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the coldness seeping through the walls were making their way to her body as well. Ever since seeing Andrew at the party a few days ago, it was as if he took the warmth with it. It left Sam longing to see him again, although her better judgement screamed against it. Even though she probably wasn’t supposed to miss him as a significant other, she definitely missed him as a friend. She wondered if it was absolutely idiotic of her to consider being friends after everything that’s happened. 

With New Year’s, came a new bout of holiday parties. This time Alex was hosting so Andrew had no excuse for not attending. Alex even ensured his presence by calling him over to help set up. Andrew had spent the purgatory period between Christmas and New Year’s perpetually thinking about Sam. There were many moments where he imagined himself picking up his phone and inviting her out for coffee. But then his brain would immediately conjure a worst case scenario where Sam would want nothing to do with him, not willing to hear him out at all, and then he chickened out. He didn’t think he could endure another goodbye from her.

After Alex had cautiously informed him that he heard that Sam would be attending tonight, Andrew decided on a game plan. Maybe he could just go too big too soon and pass out on Alex’s bed before Sam even arrived. Avoidance definitely sounded like the healthy option.

-

The night was going better than Sam had anticipated. She was wearing a sparkly top and whoever was in charge of the music was playing all the right throwback tunes. She kept catching herself being on the lookout for Andrew. Seeing as it was Alex’s party, Andrew would definitely be here. She didn’t quite know what they were doing. Were they just planning on faking niceties and hoping that holiday season would be the only time for awkward run-ins? Could it be that Sam is only imagining this delicate dance and Andrew couldn’t give less of a shit about her?

She stopped herself. That was old Sam talking. New Sam looked after herself and didn’t worry herself sick about what Andrew thought of her. But all the alcohol in the world couldn’t erase the daydreams of a reunion, in whatever form she could get it.

Sam was on her way to get a refill when a desperate Alex approached her. "Sam, oh my god, it's as if you've been sent! I need to ask you a big favour."

Sam was relatively tipsy and Alex was looking particularly stressed, so right now she was up for anything. "Sure, what do you need?" She smiled, amused at the relief washing over Alex's face. 

"Host duties are calling, but Andrew's upstairs, hugging the toilet. Can I please ask you to go up and look after him 'til I get back?" 

"Uhm...Yeah, sure!" She heard her voice say, although it sounded somewhat frantic.

“Thank you so much! I promise I won’t be long!” Alex hugged her and disappeared into the crowd, leaving a somewhat shocked Sam in his wake. She stood frozen for a few seconds, her brain only now catching up with what she had agreed to. Oh fuck.

When Sam approached the upstairs bathroom, she felt like she was about to hyperventilate. It wasn't their first meeting since everything, but it still felt so nerve-wrecking. Luckily, when Sam opened the door, Andrew wasn't really in any position to chat. He was indeed hugging the toilet as Alex had mentioned, looking a bit worse for wear.

Sam's stomach was at least one of the few strong things about her and she approached the scene cautiously. "Hey, Andy, y'alright?" 

He let out a groan in response, the groan of a man who was now feeling the crushing consequences of his actions. "Staring Death in the face, got it," Sam quipped, chuckling at her own joke. 

Andrew made another noise, but didn’t make any attempt to move or shoo her away. Sam surveyed the room, unsure of how exactly she could help. The dark band around her wrist caught her eye. Her older cousins always taught her to never attend a party without a hair tie.

She approached him slowly. “Okay, Andrew. Is it alright if I tie your hair for you?” She waited for an affirmative noise. A weak “Yeah” came from the toilet bowl. Sam did her best to carefully, and without moving Andrew’s head too much, gather his hair and tie it loosely at the back of his head. “Wouldn’t want things to get stuck on their way out,” She tried to lighten the mood again. God, she hated that humour was her coping mechanism for nerves. 

Out of habit, Sam started rubbing his back. If there is one thing uni teaches you, it’s how to look after a drunk person. Andrew threw up a few more times, but after Sam offered him a glass of water, it looked like he was starting to feel a bit more human.

He was now at least sitting upright, staring in the middle distance, looking like he was trying his best to not fall over. As if she was busy with a particularly tense game of Jenga, Sam took the now empty glass from him, scared that he might drop it. She was already looking after a fragile thing, she can’t be worrying about glass fragments too.

Out of breath, Sam went to sit next to Andrew on the floor. Playing nurse really tires a person out. Her purse lay abandoned on the floor near the door. She was sure it would be vibrating up a storm, it must have been nearing midnight and her friends were probably looking for her.

Andrew suddenly started swaying, and a panicked Sam grabbed him by the shoulders and settled his head on her lap. She waited a few moments, hoping she wouldn’t hear him start gagging again. He didn’t.

“I’m sorry, Sam, I really am,” Andrew mumbled into her lap instead. She stroked his hair, trying her best to comfort him. The woes that come with drunkenness are perhaps the worst kind. 

“Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us, alcohol can be a fickle friend -”

“No, not that. I’m sorry, for everything.”

“Oh.”

“I was scared and stupid. Fucking stupid...”

Sam’s hand froze, but stayed resting on Andrew’s head. She didn’t quite know what to do with all this. She had sort of made peace with the fact that everything was gonna go unaddressed. There wasn’t gonna be a Big Talk. But now it seems like she had walked right into it, unprepared. 

“It’s alright,” she tried, not quite sure what mindset Andrew was in right now. 

“No, it’s not,” Andrew’s voice was full of sorrow. Sam could feel his lips moving against her leg, his body heat probably a credit to the copious amounts of whiskey in his system. 

"What I did was horrible. You didn't deserve that -"

"Andrew, we don't have to do this now. You're drunk. I'm not far off and- "

Andrew shifted, starting his attempt to sit up again. "You know why I got this drunk?"

Sam shook her head in response. Andrew suddenly looked very serious, his frown cutting a deep valley into his forehead. Sam wanted to smooth it over, but also knew that if she disturbed him now, she might not ever hear what was weighing so heavily on his heart.

"I don't know how to deal with this. To deal with the fact that I made this irreparable mistake and now everything's different."

This was it. This was what Sam had been craving to hear these last six months. That Andrew had also been through hell. That life without her had been suffering, she wasn't pathetic for missing him. And somehow, all she felt was sadness. Not vindication or relief or even comfort, just sadness.

In the silence, Andrew layed back down. His fingers playing with a little fray on her jeans. Sam carried on stroking his hair, not knowing what else she could do. 

After a few minutes, Andrew took her free hand and intertwined their fingers. His palm warm against hers. And she just thinks - he can hold her hand as long as he needs to.

They sat there while the rest of the parties’ shouting roared through the house.

10, 9, 8…

Sam always felt hopeful about new years starting. A new beginning, rife with possibility. Although she never imagined spending the last few minutes of a year with her ex passed out on her lap. 

7, 6, 5, 4…

Andrew was thankful that right now he was too drunk to feel embarrassed. He knew tomorrow he would hate himself, but right now he could only hope Sam also felt the strange kind of excitement that was blooming in his chest. He felt too sick to sit up again, but he was still holding Sam’s hand. So instead of boisterous celebrations, he simply squeezed Sam’s hand in time with the people downstairs counting down the final few seconds of the year.

3, 2, 1…

 

END OF PART 1

Notes:

Predictions, thoughts, and feelings will be received happily at icanttakethemononmyown.
:)

Chapter 8: Masters - through the cold (i'll find my way back to you)

Notes:

Additional Prescribed Readings:
Love Me Like You Used To - Lord Huron
Treacherous (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

And thus commences Part 2, hope you all enjoy the reunion :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

That is how Alex found them the next morning. Sam asleep against the wall behind her and Andrew drooling onto her jeans. 

“Wakey, wakey!” He boomed, causing the two to jump up and apart. Alex couldn’t help but look on in amusement as the two shyly looked at each other with red faces. Andrew immediately started apologising while Sam immediately started attempting to explain. 

“Sorry for leaving you with the boozehead, glad to see he isn’t too out of it,” Alex said to Sam as he threw Andrew with the towel he had brought up. He had assumed that after the night that he had had, Alex’s friend would be in the mood for a shower. 

Recovering from the weird feelings of embarrassment that overwhelmed Sam, she responded: “You’d think after an entire degree he’d be better at handling his alcohol.” She hesitated a moment. This kind of banter was reminiscent of The Before Times, perhaps she lost the privilege of teasing Andrew in the break-up.

Alex chuckled which calmed Sam's nerves somewhat, but Andrew stood frozen, still staring down at where he had caught the towel. He gave a tiny shake of his head and finally looked up to engage in the exchange. “Ha. ha. You both are hysterical. We are all prone to overindulgence from time to time…”

“Yeah, but there’s never a possibility of me overindulging all over a friend’s house, so -” The towel hit Alex’s head with a smack. “Hey, I brought that up out of the kindness of my heart … Do you want me to leave you to airdry?” 

Sam laughed at the boys’ childish back-and-forth. She missed witnessing their domestic little arguments.

“Okay, we’ll leave you to freshen up, barf breath. Sam, I’m making breakfast, if you want some?” With that, Alex guided her from the room and Andrew was left with an empty room and the opportunity to fully reckon with what exactly went down last night.

-

Andrew had tried his best to let go of the hope that Sam would still be there when he entered the kitchen. The shower helped him feel a bit better, a hangover was still a hangover after all, but it granted him the time to examine his feelings. Why did the fact that Sam had stayed, had looked after him made him so happy? He felt...hopeful, something he hadn’t even considered 24 hours ago. 

It was only Alex in the room when he got there, scraping away at some pans. “Thank you,” was all Andrew said, taking a seat at the table where a plate and a glass of water were already set. He took a big gulp, hoping Alex wouldn’t turn around and see his obvious disappointment at Sam’s absence. “Sam left,” Alex said, not even looking up from his dishwashing. God, this man knew him too well.

“I see that, yes,” he said, softly. A few moments of silence hung in the air. Alex spoke up: "Did something happen between you two last night?" 

Andrew choked on the piece of toast he was busy chewing, but finally he was able to cough out a "No, of course not! Why? Did she say something happened?" 

Alex just looked up at Andrew with an expression that was difficult to decipher. “Sounds like you wanted something to happen,” he said, simply and turned back to the dishes without another word. 

-

Sam wasn’t quite sure about how she was feeling. But she feels like that statement basically sums up every waking moment since she saw Andrew again. 

The interaction with Alex shook her though. It felt particularly embarrassing for him to discover her and Andrew like he did, like they had done something much more scandalous than falling asleep on each other. She discovered an element to reuniting with Andrew that she hadn’t contemplated before - their friends. Sure, it would be nice to joke around with Andrew again, have someone to discuss the most niche topics imaginable with, but how would they explain that to everyone else? How would they embark on a friendship without the constant barrage of questions and side-eyes asking “So are you guys getting back together or?”

But it felt so exciting in his presence. She felt like a giddy first year again, anything to get Andrew’s attention felt worth it. Yet there was this feeling - she didn’t know if she would call it a gut feeling, just a hesitation - that she shouldn’t welcome him back so enthusiastically. He had hurt her before and although he is showing remorse, maybe she wasn’t so wrong for feeling like she should approach this more cautiously. 

Maybe that is the key to all this. Take it slow, Samantha, maybe a trial period to make sure he deserves your forgiveness. While she was busy hyping herself and her newly-discovered backbone up, the universe sent a test.  

 

  • Hey, It’s Andrew. I apologise profusely for last night. I feel absolutely awful!

 

And then a few moments later:

 

  • God, I hope this is still your number...

 

How long she had waited for that name to pop up on her phone. And here he was. Sam caught herself smiling at her phone. Just like that, her resolve crumbled and she failed spectacularly. 

 

  • Yeah, you definitely owe me one, Byrne! ;)

 

  • Coffee? x

 

-

The fact that the bell above the door gave her a fright might’ve been the first sign that Sam was more nervous than she realised. She’s been to this coffee shop hundreds of times, why now did the stupid bell make her heart jump? 

The tied up hair waiting for her in the corner made it jump again, and she got her answer. Andrew sat, staring deeply into the coffee cup in front of him. His hands fidgeted with the handle, maybe he was just as nervous too. 

Sam approached the table and Andrew’s head shot up. “Hi,” It sounded like he was sighing with relief, almost as if he didn’t quite expect Sam to show up. “Hi,” She answered, stuck for a moment before she realised she should probably sit down. 

“How’s your head feeling? I know you’ve never been one to champion a hangover,” Sam laughed, trying to make small talk as she unwinded her scarf from her neck. Her laugh sounded almost crazy in her attempts to appear calm. God, could she just be cool?!

“I’ve been better, although these hangovers have been hanging around much too stubbornly as we’ve gotten older, I swear!”

“You can say that again,” Sam chuckled. She pulled her sleeves over her hands in lieu of having anything else to fidget with. Andrew noticed the gesture and Sam self-consciously moved her hands to her lap. 

“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?” Andrew asked, already starting to stand up. 

“A tea would be lovely, thank you,” she answered, smiling at the kind gesture. 

“Milk, yeah? But only like the smallest pour, if I remember correctly?”

Sam’s smile only grew and sent Andrew off with an affirmative nod. 

The time alone allowed Sam to survey her environment. She hoped Andrew hadn’t been waiting too long, she made sure to arrive at their agreed time exactly. His jacket and scarf hung on the back of his chair and a delicate pile of ripped up sugar packets lay next to his coffee cup. 

The cafe wasn’t very busy, thank god. Sam felt particularly vulnerable today, so the less eyes on her, the better. She hesitated but eventually her eyes drifted to the counter. Andrew was jovially making small talk with the barista. He let out a boisterous laugh and Sam was struck by how much she had missed hearing it. 

He returned to their table with cup of tea in hand. “Here you go, tea-to-milk ratio hopefully as you prefer it.”

“Thank you, I -” 

“Oh, and your sugar,” He got three sugar packets from the holder in the middle of the table, “I know you always say you want two, but secretly prefer three…”

“Andrew…”

“Yeah?”

“I know what you’re doing.”

The smile fell from his face temporarily. They were passed the cordial greetings, now comes the hard part. “Sorry,” he chuckled, “It’s the nerves.” He wrung his hands, as if he was preparing to deliver a rehearsed speech. “I just feel so embarrassed about the other night and I was half-terrified that you wouldn’t even come today and my mind is all over the place. There is so much I want to tell you, so much I’ve wanted to tell you these past six months and now the moment’s here and I fear it may be too big.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Sam said calmly, “And I’ve got the whole day.” She hoped her smile was reassuring as she stirred her tea and added the three sugar packets one by one. “We can start at the beginning, if you like. I hear it’s a very good place to start…”

Andrew chuckled at that and his tensed-up shoulders fell slightly. “Alright, yeah…” He took a moment to breathe.

He continued, explaining how one of their professors had told him about the opportunity to do his Master’s in London. At first, he only entertained the thought because he wanted to see if he would actually get in and then when he did, the urge to go overwhelmed him. It felt like the scariest thing at the time, but that only motivated him more. He wanted to break out of his comfort zone, see if he was capable. What scared him most, of course, was leaving Sam behind. The only way he could make peace with this was by seeing it as an opportunity for them to grow without each other. He didn’t want to put Sam through the excruciating experience of trying to make long distance work and it ultimately driving them apart. He felt as if she didn’t deserve that. 

“You didn’t think of consulting me during this thought process?” Sam’s voice sounded surprisingly calm.

“What could I have said that would’ve made it sound any better?”

“You didn’t have to soften the blow. I would have appreciated the honesty.”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, you did. I’m still here, hurt. But I had to spend the last six months worrying that I did something wrong, that I drove you away…” Sam hesitated finishing her thought, the pained expression on Andrew’s face was almost too much to bear. 

“You have to know that that’s what has caused me the most guilt. In an attempt to save you heartache, I only caused more,” he said. It was silent for a while. Sam couldn’t look Andrew in the eye. Hearing how bad he felt helped, but didn’t make her feel as validated as she thought it would. 

“How long did you know?” She asked.

“Sorry?”

“For how long did you know before you left?”

“Ehm…I think a few weeks before graduation, why?”

Sam sighed. There it was. For how long she had been a fool, for how long she had planned an unrequited future together. Her mood started to shift.

“So you sat through our entire graduation, all the going away parties, all the chats about the future knowing you were not going to be here with me?”

Now was Andrew’s turn to avoid eye contact. He started fidgeting with his coffee cup again. 

“I’m sorry. I know I made you feel foolish. I probably - No, I did tarnish some memories that were supposed to be special and I can never take that back. That cannot be undone, but I need you to know how bad I feel, how genuinely sorry I am. That’s why I wanted to have this talk. To tell you my reasoning for doing what I did. I’m not defending that reasoning, now with hindsight, I can see what an idiot I was. It’s just…” His hands went to his hair, as if that would help him collect his thoughts.

“It’s just,” he continued, “You know how much I can’t stand you being angry with me, and at least with this talk, I know I tried to do something about it. And didn’t just run away like I’ve been doing…”

“I just need to hear you admit that all of this could have been avoided. That by simply talking to me, things could’ve been even the tiniest bit easier. You made this decision for the both of us, without asking me how I felt. You didn’t give me a chance to fight for us, you didn’t even ask me, Andrew…” Sam’s voice broke on the last sentence. God, she didn’t want to cry. She focused on taking deep breaths and Andrew’s guilt-ridden face. 

She added softly, “I would’ve been willing to make the long distance work.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have…”

“How do you know that? I just can't stand how you have somehow reached this conclusion without my input whatsoever!” Sam was shocked by how worked up she had become. She took a moment and, slightly defeated, added, “Nothing’s hard work if it meant I would’ve kept you…”

With that, Sam decided she had had enough. She stood up, her chair scraping across the floor with a horrible noise. “I think I need to go.” Not even bothering putting her scarf and coat back on, Sam just gathered the items up in her arms and greeted Andrew with a curt nod. 

-

Sam avoided talking about the meeting with anyone. She felt foolish, like she was right back to square one. Friends kept inquiring, but she couldn’t blame them. She would’ve wanted to know too, if she weren’t the one living it. 

She hadn’t realised how frustrated she had been with Andrew. That’s the one thing their meeting made her realise. He had made a big relationship decision without her, deciding what was best for her, for them and the absolute audacity of that, she just couldn’t handle it.

So she threw herself into her work. Her thesis had gone neglected during the holiday season and her supervisor was on her back about sending progress updates. Life went on and she assumed Andrew must’ve gone back to London. She’d probably never hear from him again. 

“Delivery for a Ms Brown?” The guy at the door said. Sam was busy getting ready for some classes she had to teach in the afternoon when she was interrupted by her buzzer. “Uhm, hi. Yeah, that’s me.” 

“Here you go, just sign here for me, please.” It was a bouquet of flowers and a package wrapped in brown paper. What on earth was going on? It wasn’t her birthday for a few more months and it’s a bit late for it to have been a Christmas present lost in the mail. 

Sam sent the man off with a “Thank you, have a nice day!” and stared at the package for a bit. The flowers were absolutely gorgeous. She’d have to make a plan because she was pretty sure she didn’t own a vase. 

With the flowers perched precariously in a bowl, Sam shifted her focus to the wrapped package. It was book-sized, but a lot thinner than expected. Carefully, she peeled the wrapping away. She recognised Raine’s art immediately.

From Eden, she read. Poetry by Andrew Hozier-Byrne

Sam frowned. What was this? Flipping the cover, she found a message written in some familiar chicken scratch under the dedication: To my giggle at a funeral.

My words might be a little too late, but I would love to see you there.

Along with an address, a time and a date.

-

The book shop was busy when Sam got there, she thought she’d be early. Chairs were neatly placed in front of a sofa on a raised platform, most of them already filled with people enthusiastically chatting. The stage had a stand on it, showcasing a blown-up version of the cover.  

A weird, exciting nervousness settled in Sam’s chest. From what she could remember of Andrew’s poetry in undergrad, it was breathtaking. Him blushing at English department events when it was announced his work had been chosen for publications were some of her favourite memories. She could only imagine it had only improved since then and she couldn’t wait to hear what he was busy with these days. 

She was calmer than she had been when she saw him last. They both had had a chance to cool down. There were just things Andrew needed to hear and she was relieved she finally got to voice them. She hadn’t dared look at the rest of the poetry collection yet, too scared of what she might find. She decided on coming to this event with her mind a blank slate, she wanted to hear what others, or even Andrew, had to say about it as a body of work.  

Said event appeared to be starting, as an older-looking woman appeared on stage and requested that everyone take their seats. Sam settled in at the back of the room, not trusting herself with a front row seat. The excited chatter swelled and then halted. The woman cleared her throat: “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s an honour to host what I believe to be one of Ireland’s most promising poets. He is here today to talk to us about and read from his debut collection, From Eden . Everyone - Andrew Hozier-Byrne!”

Andrew appeared at the side of the stage, Sam didn’t even see him approaching. The room erupted in applause and Sam quickly joined in. Andrew looked more shy than usual, nervously tucking hair behind his ears and wringing his hands. He greeted the woman on stage and turned to the audience and did a little stilted wave and bow. Sam had to stifle her giggle with her hand. 

When he got handed his mic, the first thing he said was “You were far too kind with that introduction, Louise, but thank you. It is an honour for me to be able to do this at one of my favourite bookstores when I was a younger, scrappy lad.” 

Louise gave a polite little laugh. “Would you mind if we start with the readings?”

“Yes, of course,” Andrew answered, running his free hand not holding the mic down the leg of his trousers. Nervous Andy got sweaty hands if Sam remembered anything from their first couple of dates. 

Confronted with finally hearing Andrew’s writing, Sam had to concentrate on taking deep breaths. She didn’t quite know what the subject matter was going to be, should she be worried that a room full of people were about to hear intimate retellings of her relationship? Or was that extremely arrogant of her to think? Surely Andrew’s collection would be more than just the poetry equivalent of a break-up album.

“Okay, so which one had you decided on doing first?” Louise asked, handing Andrew a copy to read out of. The book looked small in his hands as he paged through it, obviously having made a very clear decision on what would be read first. “Yes, I’ll be reading Work Song, ‘s Mum’s favourite.”

The room laughed at the remark, obviously Andrew had them in the palm of his hand without really trying. “So, tell us a bit about it. How did it come about?”

Andrew explained the reference to historical work songs and everyone in the room, including Sam, hung on his lips. “Ehm, I had been working on it for a while actually,” He continued, “I think I came up with the ‘If the Lord don’t forgive me’ line first in like second year or something, and I’ve been whittling away at it ever since.”

A knot formed in Sam’s throat. She tried to swallow it away as Louise prompted Andrew to start. Perhaps she shouldn’t read too much into that factoid, maybe everything will be fine. He cleared his throat and took a moment before reading. His eyes sprang up from the page and quickly scanned through the crowd until they met Sam’s. With a small smile, he began. 

 

Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

 

Sam was struck by the conviction with which he recited it. The unsure, sometimes stuttering person she came to know turned into a determined and passionate conveyer. He was steadfast in his word choices, eager to share them with an even more eager audience. No "ehm's" or pauses to debate phrasing. Every syllable was delivered with deliberate intent. It was as if he was prophesying some previously unuttered gospel and they were the willing congregation. 

And Sam was completely enthralled, bewitched even. Andrew could tell her anything right now and she would accept it as immutable truth.

After the readings, came questions from the audience.

“How long had you been working on the collection?”

“It’s funny, I see it as that humorous observation where musicians say they spent their entire life up until that point working on their debut album. So that, but also the inspiration behind the majority of the material came from experiences I had at university, so if I had to narrow it down…”

“So, the ‘giggle at a funeral’ line-”

“Haha! This is possibly the question I’ve gotten the most! So I don’t like to assert ‘Yes, this is what this is about, this is not what it’s about’, but this line seems to trip people up a lot. All I’ll say is sometimes falling in love is like experiencing a part of yourself die, in the sense that seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes kills off things you’ve previously believed about who you are. But if people picture somebody chuckling in a church, who am I to stop them?”

People stayed behind after the event to talk to Andrew, every person as eager and enthusiastic as the last. Andrew seemed unsure about what to do with all this attention, but Sam waited behind patiently, smiling fondly at Andrew being his humble self. 

Soon the crowd cleared and employees started packing up. Andrew was busy with the last person insisting that he sign their copy. They went on their way with a big smile and suddenly, it was Sam’s turn.

Andrew’s demeanour shifted when their eyes met, like he was suddenly a lot more comfortable. She approached cautiously, knowing that the last time they saw each other, she basically yelled at him. She thought about what the best way would be to communicate that she didn’t feel like that now, she spent nights replaying his words over and over in her head. She realised she missed him too much to be mad anymore. 

“So I have some notes, actually…” She joked, feigning flipping through her copy. Andrew laughed wholeheartedly, his hands even clapping in amusement and Sam let out a small sigh of relief.

“Yeah? I would love to hear them,” he answered sincerely, his smile almost taking up his entire face, “I value your opinion much more than whatever The Irish Times will have to say.”

“Well, first of all –”

Sam was interrupted by the woman who presented the launch, “Sorry! Andrew, thank you so much. I’m on my way, have a lovely week!”

“Bye, Louise! And I have to thank you, what an honour!”

The woman smiled and greeted Sam with a strange, knowing smile before disappearing out the door.

“You wanna go next door? There’s a really cool pub and I would love to hear the rest of your notes?” Andrew suggested, gesturing in a general direction. His question sounded somewhat uncertain at the end, like he was trying to appear unbothered to hide his desperation.

“Sure,” Sam heard herself say, “Then I can get my copy autographed too!”

The establishment wasn’t too busy, Andrew led her to a booth and sat her down with a promise of pints before disappearing to the bar. 

Sam took a moment to stare at the cover again. She still hadn’t put the book back into her bag. After today, it felt like a precious artifact. She must protect it at all costs. She traced her finger softly over the title, mirroring the swoopy font, slowly reciting each letter. F-R-O-

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Andrew returned, two pints in hand, “Mum absolutely loved the idea of one of her’s contributing.”

“It’s breathtaking, Raine’s a genius.”

“Hopefully, the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree,” Andrew lifted his glass as if to cheers. Sam followed suit, punctuating her’s with “To Ireland’s new Seamus Heany!”

Andrew feigned shock, “ Samantha , we will not tolerate blasphemy in such a holy institution! Take that back!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I like your stuff more, though. Sorry, Seamus, you’re a bit long-winded, I just can’t-”

“Oh my God, I am plugging my ears. I can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth right now.” True to his word, Andrew actually put his fingers in his ears, looking around the room as to not make eye-contact with Sam who was laughing her head off. She reached over the table to grab his arms, “I’ll stop, I’ll stop, I promise! I’m done, no more hot takes from me!”

“Aw, but your hot takes were always the best! Like how Lady Macbeth is the true best Shakespeare character.”

“God, what a girlboss,” Sam mused, taking a sip of her beer, “And I stand by that! Without her, the entire play would be so fucking boring. Macbeth literally gets taken out by a c-section, I mean, how lame is that!”

“You really are something else, Sam,” There was no malice to Andrew’s words, rather pure fondness dripping from each syllable. Sam suddenly felt self-conscious under his gaze. They had slipped back into pleasant conversation so easily, did he notice it too?

“So are you gonna sign my copy or what?” Sam asked nervously, pushing her copy across the table to Andrew. He looked taken aback at her sudden request, but smiled as he opened it, getting a pen from her shirt pocket. 

He quickly scribbled a message and signed his name with a flourish. “There you go,” He smiled, capping the pen and putting it back in his shirt pocket. 

“You better not have written something stupid,” Sam warned, taking the book back from him. It was a huge arrow pointing up at the dedication, accompanied by a “What he said!” and his signature. 

“It’s to me?” Sam asked softly. Suddenly the hope Sam had borrowed deep down inside of her came bubbling to the surface. 

“Of course,” Andrew answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I didn’t realise-, I didn’t think you’d…write about me…”

Andrew looked confused by this confession, leading to Sam clarifying: “I haven’t read it yet. I was too scared to. I’ve only heard what you read in the shop this afternoon.”

“Oh,” Andrew didn’t quite know what to do with this information. “Well, they are all pretty much about you. I’m sure you will recognise some things…”

Sam looked down at the book again. Now it felt even more precious. She tucked the book into her bag. She’d read it when she was alone. It felt too intimate for Andrew to see her first reactions.

“I’m glad you came,” Andrew said, “I was afraid you…” He let that sentence trail off, perhaps too scared to finish the thought.

“Of course, I’d come,” Sam hoped her smile came across as warm, “Still your biggest fan, no matter what. And I really enjoyed your doodle of an olive branch on the title page, wanted to thank the artist in person.”

Andrew appeared to be blushing, covering his face with his hands. “Ah, I forgot I did that,” He chuckled, his words muffled by his palms. He suddenly turned seriously, dropping his hands and looking Sam square in the eye. “I want to reiterate my apology. I’m an entire idiot who made an even stupider mistake. I wasn’t thinking, I should’ve talked to you, I should’ve fought for us,” He started rambling, his words falling from his faster and faster, like he was afraid he wouldn’t get to say them all.

Sam reached out across the table, taking his hands in hers. She made sure he was looking at her before she spoke. “It’s alright, it’s okay.”

His entire demeanour changed with those words. His shoulders relaxed, the worry lines on his face softened. His eyes said what his mouth probably couldn’t. Thank you, thank you, thank you .

Sam was unsure about where they stood now. What did this mean for their future? Was there even a future? New feelings and anxieties started bubbling up. Did Andrew even want them to get back together? Was this just all a ploy to ease his conscience so he could go on with his life and no longer feel guilty? For the first time, it struck Sam that maybe he had met somebody. He just wanted to close this chapter before he could fully commit to the new one. She didn’t want to be a fool again, she didn’t want to feel pathetic again.  

Andrew held the door for her as they stepped back onto the street. “Well, if that hasn’t been the best first date I’ve ever been on!” He joked. Sam spun around in surprise, disguising it poorly, because Andrew nervously added: “Too soon?”

She smiled, reassured. “Nah, top five maybe. “Best” might be a bit too presumptuous.”

Both of them let out a little sigh of relief. They could joke again. “So how long are you home for?” Sam asked, her mind already back to reality and logistics.

“Ehm, I fly back this weekend. But I’ll be back in a few weeks for meetings and stuff. Will I see you then?”

“I’ll think about it,” Sam teased, taking advantage of the hopeful look on Andrew’s face. He responded with an amused smile.

“Thank you again for coming, it meant a lot.”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world. You can very proud, Andy.”

-

“Please be awake, please be awake,” Sam begged under her breath, listening to her phone ring. Without meaning to, she had stayed out till after the buses ran. Like a fool she had assured all her friends who lived in the opposite direction that she would be safe getting home, believing she would be able to get to the bus stop before the final one left. Now she was out in the cold, sitting under the sad, abandoned plastic shelter provided for people who needed public transport at reasonable times.

Now her only option would be Andrew. The only person she knew in town who would have access to a car and would be in the state of mind to drive. Thank God he was still in town this week. 

“Hello?” A disoriented-sounding Andrew answered. 

“Oh thank fuck! Andrew, I need to ask you a huge favour!”

It wasn’t too long or a familiar car stopped a few feet away. It had started raining and Sam jogged to the passenger door. The window opened and Andrew announced in a put-on voice “Uber for a Miss…Samantha?”

“Open the door, you idiot!” Sam laughed, pulling at the door handle to no avail. With a click from inside, the door opened and Sam jumped in, almost shaking herself off like a dog. Andrew shook his head with amusement and started pulling away from the sidewalk. 

“I bought you a jumper, didn’t know if you would’ve taken one out,” Andrew said, not taking his eyes off the road, but gesturing to the backseat. “Oh, you’re my saviour,” Sam declared, a particularly powerful shiver running through her body as she said it. 

She reached over and felt the mass of fabric. She inspected it quickly, not wanting to seem suspicious. It wasn’t a jumper she recognised. She put it on quickly, revelling in its softness before settling back into her seat. 

After a few moments of driving in silence, Sam finally said “Thank you, I know you’re only back in town for a few days…”

“Actually, I talked to my supervisor. With all the writing stuff going on, he said it would be alright for me to work remotely. I only have to go back for graduation. Raine was overjoyed, naturally, but yeah. I’m back…for good.”

Oh… ” Sam was lost for words. No more only hearing Andrew’s voice on the phone or seeing his face through selfies he sends of him in cool record stores he found in London. He’s back. He’s here now. 

She stared down at the way Andrew’s jumper sleeves enveloped her hands, unsure of how to react. The car stopped suddenly. The drive to Sam’s place was a short one.  

They sat in silence for a moment, Andrew turned to face Sam, who hadn’t moved. He studied her face carefully, hoping to find a sign, something to tell him that he wasn’t alone in this. That since being in each other’s company again, Andrew had started to feel like himself for the first time since he left. That he wasn’t the only one hoping they could continue this delicate dance, with no fear of what might happen when the music stops. 

“Do you wanna come in?” Sam whispered, cautiously, suddenly struck by the fear that Andrew might reject her. She felt like she had lost all ability to read Andrew’s face, her own emotions introduced too many biases. Is the hope she saw in his eyes just her projecting?

He nodded slowly.

Their hands met as they took the stairs up to her flat. Sam’s heart was beating in her throat. Shit, this was really happening. She could only keep her hand still for long enough to unlock the front door. All she could think about right now was how it would feel to touch him again. Fuck, for him to touch her again. 

Andrew closed the door behind him as they entered and they were caught in the silence of Sam’s flat. She looked up slowly and met his eyes, hoping that it was desire burning there. One step at a time, she closed the space between them. Andrew did a little gasp when she touched his chest, her hands bathing in the feeling of travelling up to his neck. He quickly took initiative though, and took Sam’s head in his hands, bending down to make their lips meet. 

The connection felt like a live wire, sparks flying as Sam revelled in the privilege of touching Andrew. His broad shoulders, his stubble. She kissed him with desperation, but not the same kind with which she had kissed him months before, when she was pleading with him to stay. Now she was desperate for his touch, to feel close to him again. 

Andrew followed suit, his grasp travelling Sam’s silhouette like he wouldn’t ever get the chance to touch her again, even sneaking a touch at her ass. She giggled, briefly breaking the kiss, that made Andrew whisper a quick, nervous: “Is this alright?” 

“More than alright,” she reassured, before kissing him again. After a few moments, Sam tried to break the kiss again, just to suggest that they move this to somewhere more comfortable, because her neck wouldn’t survive this angle for much longer. Andrew’s lips trailed after her though, as if breaking this kiss might just kill him. Sam smiled, taking in Andrew’s face of lust for the first time in forever. 

“Would you mind if we move this somewhere more comfortable?”

“Not at all,” He replied, utterly breathless.

They basically raced each other to Sam’s bed. Each as enthusiastic as the other to get the show back on the road. Sam made herself comfortable, throwing her shoes to the side and she could hear Andrew do the same. Both were rushing like a timer had been set and they needed to do this before realising that it might be a bad idea.

Sam’s body felt on fire, she could still feel the trails of where he had touched her just moments ago. She looked over at Andrew who stood frozen in the spot, like he needed a moment to process what was happening. They reunited dramatically, their lips meeting again and Sam fumbling with the buttons of Andrew’s shirt. She pushed it off his shoulders with a groan of satisfaction. 

“You might just kill me,” Andrew said softly, almost as if he didn’t intend for Sam to hear. She was about to answer him, but he punctuated his statement by pulling her even closer to him. Sam lost all ability to concentrate on anything else when she felt Andrew’s stubble against her neck. He groaned as Sam grabbed at his hair and she couldn’t help but echo the sound when he started sucking on her neck even more enthusiastically. 

In a moment of clarity, however, Sam started leading them to the bed. When her calves hit the mattress, she stopped, but Andrew let go of her so she landed on her back. Still standing, his eyes trailed her body. He looked like he was taking his time taking in the vision in front of him. 

He crouched down and settled his hands on where his jumper had started riding up Sam’s hips. Slowly, he placed kisses on her stomach as his hands pushed the material up, up, up, leaving a warm trail up her sides. The vision of Andrew looking up at her and the feeling of his lips on her skin again almost overwhelmed her. It felt so good

His hands reached her breasts, cupping the underside. He paused, his eyes meeting hers again. Sam could almost hear the silent questions. Are you still okay with this? Can I continue? She nodded and an appeased smile formed on Andrew’s face. They worked together to remove the rest of Sam’s clothing. For a moment, Sam felt like covering herself. Andrew hadn’t seen her in a while after all, what if some things aren’t as he remembers them? What if he’s disappointed?

“Gorgeous,” he exhaled, placing a quick kiss to Sam’s lips before moving to her breasts. She smiled, recognising that Andrew still remembered the moves she liked. Her hips reacted, lifting off the mattress in an attempt to be even closer to him. Andrew was already rockhard. God .  

Feeling Andrew on top of her, feeling the effect she still had on him, empowered Sam like nothing else. She felt like she could take on the world just knowing she made Andrew this breathless, this eager . He was busy decorating her sternum with kisses when she pulled him closer by his hair, his ear right next to her lips. She took a moment to listen to Andrew’s racing breath and then, slowly and clearly, she whispered: “Show me how much you missed me.”

-

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Sam whispered, getting back into bed after going to the bathroom. It was strange seeing Andrew in her bed again, but she welcomed the sight. His hair was splayed across the cushion and his smile content, as he tried his best to keep his eyes open. “No, just like looking at you,” he replied. 

She giggled, “Forgot how cheesy your pillow talk is.” 

Andrew huffed out a laugh and reached out to pull Sam closer to him again, “I remember you liking it, so…” he stated, matter-of-factly, as Sam nuzzled into his chest feeling the vibration of his voice. Home, this feels like home , she thought as she drifted back to sleep. 

The next time Sam woke daylight streamed through the window. They were still in the position they had fallen asleep in. He hadn’t left, Andrew is still here. If the snores were anything to go by, he was still asleep and Sam took comfort in the moment alone. She pressed a soft kiss to his chest, just because she could. How many nights she had wished to be this close to him again. 

“That tickles,” The voice from above her head croaked.

“Sucks to be you,” Sam replied, pressing even more kisses to his chest.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’d say everything's coming up Andrew!”

Sam sat up abruptly, “I can’t believe I had sex with a nerd!”

Andrew laughed his boisterous laugh as he saw Sam turn to grab her pillow. “Okay, truce, truce!” He put up his arms in defense. Sam lowered her weapon, but her devious grin still made Andrew nervous. 

“You could say,” she started, looking very impressed with herself, “You were taken to church last night…”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you just said that. Give me the pillow. It’s my turn.”

Sam shrieked with laughter as Andrew wrestled the pillow away from her. He paused, “I’m glad you finally read it, but if you ever quote it at me again, I will be going into witness protection.”

Notes:

Contact me at icanttakethemonmyown. if you wanna hear about deleted scenes! Also apologies that this update took so long, but ya girl had to submit her dissertation and that unfortunately took up most of my attention, I hope the length of this chapter is an adequate apology :)

(I also noticed while organising some stuff that it's been a year since I uploaded the og prof!hozier and I just want to thank anyone who has stuck around this long. My life has changed immeasurably in the last year, for better and worse, and the messages I've got and people I've met through this experience has definitely been part of the former! So my sincerest thank you's, truly!)

Chapter 9: Undergraduate/PhD - let heaven hide it's face in sheer disgrace (to look upon the love of my baby)

Notes:

The penultimate chapter is finally here! This one took me awhile as the subject matter touched on something personal and difficult for me, so I psyched myself out of writing for a bit. But see this as me living vicariously through my characters, as my future partner meeting my parents can not happen as I'd always dreamed it would, so here I offer you an idealised version instead!

Thank you for sticking around so long and prepare yourself for the graduation chapter (exciting stuff)!

Also, just a tiny author's note: the time jump is basically to "modern day", i.e. post-lockdown, post-wasteland, baby - just so we're all on the same timeline page :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Wheresoever she was, there was Eden - Eve’s Diary , Mark Twain

 

You home? Something urgent to discuss!!

Sam x 

Andrew’s mind immediately went in a million different directions. Most of them variations on “Oh fuck, she wants to break up.” Things had been going so well, he couldn’t imagine that’s what Sam would want to talk about. But Andrew’s heart began racing and a heavy feeling settled in his stomach. The only thing keeping him sane was the little kiss Sam added to the end of her message.

Yeah, I’m home. Everything alright? x

Andrew

Sam didn’t answer him, but not ten minutes after he pressed send, there was a knock at his flat’s front door. Andrew had never sprinted to his door so fast. Behind it stood a frazzled looking Sam. Her baby hairs had escaped from her ponytail and she was wearing one of Andrew’s hoodies that he definitely didn’t remember giving her. Her forehead was contorted into a frown that Andrew wished he could kiss away and he could see her worrying at her bottom lip. 

“Hi,” Sam greeted. She looked somewhat distracted and Andrew could hear her stress in that short, simple word. “Hi, babe,” Andrew greeted back, leaning in for the kiss they usually greeted each other with. Sam, much to Andrew’s relief, reciprocated, but quickly got down to business. 

She ducked past Andrew and made herself at home in his kitchen. Closing the door behind them, Andrew followed her and could see she was also picking at her nails. Oh God, she was really stressed. “Okay, so,” She started, turning around to face Andrew again and looking too nervous to even consider sitting down. It was as if the nervous energy radiated off of her and Andrew could feel himself start stroking his collarbones, an apparent self-soothing technique he did, which Sam made him aware of. The wonders of having a girlfriend in first year Psychology.

“Are you busy Friday night?” That was not what Andrew had anticipated, but it calmed him somewhat. Definitely didn’t sound like the start of an “It’s not you, it’s me” type tangent. “Uh...Ehm, I don't think so?” Andrew sounded very unsure, but to be honest, he was still reeling from possibly being broken up with. 

“Great,” Sam let out a small sigh of relief, “So my mum might have called…” Her eyes studied every inch of Andrew’s face.

"Okaaaay?" Andrew still wasn’t following.

"Do you maybe wanna meet my parents?" 

-

“Okay, so,” Sam was trying to remember the list she made on her way from class this morning, “Don’t even so much as look at the pictures in the hallway. I went through a trouserless phase as a child and my mother immortalised it and it’s mortifying.”

Behind the wheel, Andrew was trying not to find Sam’s nervous energy too endearing. He was walking the delicate line of trying to be a reassuring presence for Sam while also trying to ignore that he was probably sweating through his dress shirt right now. Meeting your significant other’s parents is a big deal and Andrew wanted to do everything in his power to make sure tonight went as smoothly as possible. 

“And oh my god, don’t ask my dad questions. He could literally go on forever. Off-limit topics include: Bob Dylan, motorcycles, my mum’s choice in couch cushions, how my schoolwork is going – Shit, don’t tell him you play guitar! My mum told me he is apparently thinking of starting up his old uni band again.”

“So you’re gonna sew my mouth shut for me before we ring the doorbell, yeah?” Andrew joked, trying to get his girlfriend to relax. He placed a hand on her thigh, squeezing it. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Just breathe. I’ll be on my best behaviour, promise.”

Sam leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s not that I think you’re going to mess up, it’s just – I like you a lot and I want them to like you a lot.”

“Well, I like you a lot too and I’m gonna make your parents love me, if it’s the last thing I do!” 

Sam laughed at that, but Andrew could still see her picking her nails out of the corner of his eye.

-

“You got the bottle of wine, yeah?”

“Red wine, like you told me.”

“Great. And I look alright? Like a daughter you can be proud of?”

“You look absolutely stunning. Your boyfriend must be a lucky fella!”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

They stood outside the door, have been for a few minutes, waiting for Sam to build up the courage to ring the doorbell. The bottle of wine was starting to get heavy in Andrew’s hands and he was scared that if they got any more sweaty he might just drop the bottle right here on the front steps. 

Sam took a big breath, “Okay, you ready?” 

“I hope so,” Andrew chuckled, trying his best not to let his true nerves show.

Sam stuck her hand out and only after pressing the button registered what Andrew said. “You hope so?! What do you mean-” She was interrupted by footsteps from inside. Andrew could feel his heart beating in his chest. Sam moved closer, taking his free hand in hers and squeezing for dear life.

Daphne was the one that opened the door. Sam had told him that her mother could only be described as “the most stressed out, easygoing person you’ll ever meet”, but now seeing her for the first time Andrew could only describe her as warm. A smile overtook her face when she realised who was at the door and she welcomed them as if she wasn’t just meeting Andrew for the first time, like he was an old friend she hadn’t seen in ages.

“Samantha, love, hello! And this must be Andrew - Oh, Sammy, you didn’t tell me he was this handsome. Hello, darling, how are you? Nice to meet you!” Daphne enveloped them both in a hug, the coat slung over Sam’s arm and Andrew’s bottle of wine getting squished between their bodies. 

“Hi, Mrs Brown, it’s such a pleasur-”

“Ah-ah! Daphne, please. Mrs Brown makes me sound like a granny, doesn’t it?”

Andrew chuckled, seeing Sam look like she wanted to die, but quickly corrected himself: “Nice to meet you, Daphne. I didn’t want to show up empty-handed, so I bought you some wine.”

“Oh my, look at you! So nice of you, thank you, and look how rude I’m being! Come in, come in.” Daphne took the bottle from Andrew and guided them into the house. Sam was right, the entire top half of the walls in the hallway were covered in photos. Andrew made a note that he will have to come back sometime during the night to get a proper look, because the photos of Sam as a pudgy baby were just too adorable to simply ignore. 

Daphne led them to the living room, “Make yourselves at home. I will go get your father, Samantha, I told him 7:30, but do you think he listens to me?” Her voice faded as she disappeared into the house.

It left Andrew and Sam in silence, in a living room decorated in a manner Andrew could only label as “homely”, knitted blankets hung over every couch, cushions neatly stacked, and even a crackling fireplace. “You weren’t kidding about that,” Andrew said.

“What?” Sam’s head turned to him in confusion.

“Your mum really does call you Samantha, I thought you were exaggerating…”

“Well, she did pick it out. I’m still not sure if she resents me embracing the nickname, but it’s too late to change it now, right?”

Andrew recognised the little laugh Sam made as her nervous chuckle. Making himself comfortable on the couch, he finally got the chance to dry his hands on his pants. God, he has never been this sweaty in his life. Maybe he was dying, surely he would dehydrate before the night was over – if his heart didn’t give in first. 

The few minutes they sat waiting for Sam’s dad to arrive felt like hours. Andrew tried to run through the list of banned topics, afraid he might put his foot in his mouth and ruin the night. He couldn’t remember half of them, the only thing his mind could offer was Don’t fuck this up!

“Babe, just quickly-” Andrew began.

“I’m here, I’m here! Time just got away from me, I’ve been working on my bike!” A deep voice came from the hallway. Andrew’s heart jumped. It was not that he was particularly scared of Sam’s dad, he had only heard wonderful stories and memories about him. But Sam was especially close to her dad and it felt like impressing him carried more weight. If Andrew could get his seal of approval, spending the rest of his life with Sam might be much easier. 

Sam’s dad’s face lit up as he rounded the corner into the living room and spotted his daughter. “There she is, there’s my Teddy!” 

Sam jumped up from the couch and ran into her dad’s arms. Andrew couldn’t help but also feel elated by the joy in the room, also standing as Sam got up. He smiled as father and daughter hugged, swaying and laughing as they held each other. 

“God, I swear you’ve gotten taller! Is that even possible? But at least that means they’re feeding you, Teddy,” Sam’s dad only had eyes for his daughter, he smiled at her like she was his entire world. It warmed Andrew’s heart before making it leap a few feet into the air. God, he needed this man to like him.

Through her giggles and blushing, Sam finally withdrew from her father’s embrace and turned towards Andrew, “Dad, I would like you to meet Andrew.”

Andrew immediately stepped forward and held out his hand, “Very nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” Andrew hoped his smile didn’t look like a grimace. Sam’s dad’s face shifted somewhat, a lot more guarded than it was a few moments ago. He too stuck out his hand, but it felt more like a formality than a warm greeting. “Nice to meet you, Andrew. I’m Tom.” 

‘Well, why don’t we all sit down,” Daphne appeared, leading everyone to the couches, “I’d love to hear some more about you, Andrew.” She smiled her warm smile again and Andrew felt slightly comforted after Tom’s strange exchange. He was still looking at Andrew, as if he was studying his face for any ulterior motives. 

As the conversation flowed, no one looked taken aback by Tom’s intimidating facade. It felt so far removed from what Sam had told Andrew and from what he had seen before Tom greeted him. He listened silently as Andrew answered Daphne’s questions about where he is from and how he and Sam met. “Oh, so you and Samantha are in the same class? Are you doing English as well?”

“Yes! I’ve had a passion for literature since I was a boy, so it seemed like the logical choice. I’m really enjoying it so far,” Andrew answered politely. If he just kept looking at Daphne, ignoring Tom’s gaze burning into his face like a laser, he might just survive the night. “And what are you planning to do with that, son?” Tom asked, his voice catching Andrew off-guard, making him jump slightly.

“S-sorry, sir?” Andrew had such a fright he didn’t even fully register what words actually came out of Tom’s mouth.

“What are you planning on doing with your degree? Not many places looking for someone who can read poems…” He crossed his arms as he said it and the lump in Andrew’s throat became even more difficult to swallow.

“Dad!”

“Tommy!”

Sam and Daphne reacted similarly and simultaneously. Both looked shocked at his hostility, like it was the last thing they expected of him. Sam turned to Andrew, taking his hand in hers and rubbing her thumb against his skin as she spoke, “I’m so sorry, I have no idea –”

“I would really like to teach, sir,” Andrew interrupted, “The ideal would be going on to get my Master’s and maybe even my PhD, t-to become a professor, but I could also see myself becoming an English teacher, cultivating a love for literature among young people as it had been cultivated for me...” The words rushed out of his mouth as if he would be penalised if he took too long to answer.

Tom did that thing where he studied Andrew’s face again, but then miraculously looked satisfied with the answer, his shoulders relaxing. “Noble pursuit that, becoming a teacher…” he said simply and with a finality that prompted Sam to start asking her mum about how her garden was doing, just to fill the silence. 

-

“The food’s absolutely delicious, Daphne. Especially the potato bake, I’d say it even rivals my mum’s,” Andrew remarked, lifting a forkful of food  to emphasise his compliment. Daphne chuckled, “Oh, honey, that’s all Tom’s doing. It’s just about the one thing he can actually contribute when it comes to the kitchen.”

The table’s eyes shifted to Tom, who up until that point had only been an observer to the conversations around the dining table. “‘S my grandma’s recipe,” he mumbled, vaguely nodding in Andrew’s direction. “Well, you did a swell job, sir, thank you.” Andrew wanted to fling himself through the window. His compliment only seemed to make Tom even more uncomfortable and the food was now starting to taste more like cotton wool. 

“Samantha used to love it when she was younger,” Daphne contributed, smiling fondly at the memory, “When we’d all gone to bed, she used to tiptoe into the kitchen and sneak a serving with her to bed. Gee, you used to sneak snacks to bed a lot, honey. I’d clean wrappers from underneath your bed like you were running an illegal tuck shop or something!’ Daphne erupted, laughing at her own joke. It almost drowned out Andrew’s comment. Almost . It slipped from his mouth without his permission, probably as a desperate attempt to contribute to the conversation or maybe even make Daphne laugh.

“Oh yeah, she still does that.” 

Silence followed his comment. Sam’s eyes bulged and she froze, fork midway to her mouth, staring at Andrew as if to will him into unsaying that. Tom dropped his fork and it hit his plate with a clang and Andrew could practically feel himself brace as if he were about to get punched.

Instead, Tom burst out laughing. A raucous laugh, filling up the entire room. Andrew and Sam still sat frozen, unsure what was busy happening. Tom even bent down and slapped his knee and it felt like Andrew had somehow crossed into a parallel universe mid-conversation. “Old habits die hard, hey, Teddy?” he said, prompting him into another round of laughter.  

Sam laughed along, more cautiously, but somewhat at ease. Her father had broken the tension and him laughing like this, felt like the end of this weird “protective father” act he seemed to have put on. 

“Andy, Sam hasn’t told you about her trouserless phase, has she?” Tom turned to Andrew, some of the warmth he had greeted his daughter with at the start of the night seeping back into his demeanour. 

-

Several Years and an entire PhD later…

“Sammy!” The exaggerated accent Andrew put on just for that specific pet name echoed through the house. Sam could hear his keys jingling and the door closing behind him. “Yeah?” She called back from the living room, where she had made herself a nest of blankets, ready to enjoy a relaxing evening of television and wine. She had spent the day running around after student essays and office admin and now just wanted to unwind by watching something that required no brain power. 

“You ready to go? Sorry that I’m a bit late, you wouldn’t believe the queue – Why aren’t you dressed?” Andrew stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner and laid his eyes on Sam in her comfiest sweatpants and Netflix’s homepage on the TV. “Dressed?" She answered, panicked-stricken, "Dressed for what?” 

Oh God. She forgot something. What was today’s date? Not something important, right? Andrew stood in front of her, still wearing his business casual from work, holding what looked to be a very expensive bottle of wine.

“I could've sworn I reminded you a few days ago. Ehm, we have dinner with your parents tonight…” Andrew spoke slowly, he could clearly deduce that this news was not particularly welcome. “Oh sweet Jesus, you didn’t say that’s what you were going to the shops for!” Sam sprang up from the couch, nearly bumping into Andrew on her way past him to the bedroom. 

“Mum’s gonna kill me if we’re late,” Sam groaned, her voice muffled by the walls between her and Andrew. She frantically searched through her closet for something appropriate. She had never shaken that urge to impress her parents, to show that she had turned out fine. What in her closet said “See, mum? Your little girl didn’t do too bad for herself?”

Appearing a few minutes later, in something sem-formal and having forced a comb through her hair, Sam was ready. Physically, at least. Andrew had used the opportunity to load everything into the car. He even remembered his book of the month, the excruciating tradition he and her mother had started where they exchange books and discuss them via FaceTime at the end of each month. Sam was sure her mother loved bragging to her Garden Club friends about her literature professor ‘son-in-law”; she probably enjoyed listening to Andrew talk more than his students did.  

“Ready?” Andrew asked as Sam got into the car. She sighed, “I think so, yeah. Just need to get into the right headspace, I was envisioning an entirely different night, to be honest.”

“That’s alright, we don’t have to stay long. I’ll tell Daphne I have a work emergency. Do you think she’ll believe me if I say someone broke into the department library?”

“You could tell her the president himself was waiting for you in your office and she’d believe you. And thank you, I might hold you to that.” Sam leaned over for a quick peck as Andrew reversed out of their driveway. 

-

“Andy, honey, how are you?” Daphne had hardly opened the door when she went in for a hug. Sam loves teasing Andrew about how he was her mother’s favourite child. Not that that comes from a place of jealousy at all, thank you very much. Andrew always tells her it’s because she’s an only child and doesn’t know how to share, which she strongly opposes as well. 

“Hi, Mum. I’m also here. You know, your only child you love and care for very much and went through some effort to bring into this world.”

“Oh hush, Samantha. I was getting to you.” Her mother took the teasing in her stride and put on an exacerbated look as she moved on to hug Sam too. “You want to tell me about your week? I’ll get to Andrew later, he knows how to be patient.” The three of them shared a laugh as they followed Daphne into the house.

The photos in the hallway had been updated a few times since Andrew had been here the first time. Sam’s graduation, Tom and Daphne’s bike trip around the country, even Sam and Andrew’s first international academic conference had all been memorialised on the wall. Of the few things in his life Andrew was proud of, appearing on Daphne’s prestigious hallway was definitely one of them. 

“Actually, I’ll join you two later. I know I still owe you a book, Daphne. I just wanna check in on Tom, I’m assuming he’s in the garage?”

Daphne looked slightly dejected that Andrew would be leaving the conversation, but smiled nethertheless. “Of course, dear. You know your way around, we’ll be in the kitchen.”

Andrew walked to the end of the hallway, where he knew the last door on the left would lead to Tom’s happy place. His garage, where he spent most of his retirement working on his motorcycle. He also knew that this was where Tom smoked secretly, even though he had promised he would stop, meaning he would be in the ideal mood for the conversation Andrew wanted to have.

With three quick knocks to the door, Tom’s voice called him in. He smiled as soon as he saw it was Andrew. “Hey, son, how are ya? Is it dinner time already?” He stood and started wiping his hands on a nearby rag. 

“Not yet, just came to talk to you. How’s the bike doing?”

“Oh, she’s alright. Getting her ready for the next big trip. Me and Daph haven’t decided where we wanna go yet.”

Andrew closed the door behind him, not wanting them to be overheard. “Everything alright?” Tom asked, obviously noting Andrew was more stressed than usual. Something was off.

“Ehm, yeah. I guess, it’s just…I came to talk about something specific and I don’t quite know how to broach the subject.”

Tom’s hands froze, the rag all rumpled up in between them. His mind immediately went to the worst case scenario, thinking of a few years ago when Sam phoned her mother in a state, crying too hard to properly convey what had happened. It had taken a while for them to warm up to Andrew again. God , Sammy can’t go through that again. 

Andrew must’ve noticed Tom’s tense shoulders, because he frantically started trying to explain. “No, no, no! It’s good news, I swear, look!” Andrew stuck his hand into his pocket and held out a delicate gold band with a simple small diamond. 

“Oh thank Christ! You had me really fuckin’ worried there, And!” Tom let out an audible sigh of relief, “Bring it over here, I wanna see!”

Andrew did as he was told, walking over and delicately holding out the ring to Tom. The enormous smile on his face did wonders to calm Andrew’s nerves. “We’ve talked about it – and like obviously for tax purposes, it would be easier – I’m not here to ask permission, just thought I’d share it with you before I did it,” Andrew couldn’t seem to properly finish a thought. 

“Well, I’m thankful you’ve come to tell me about it, I’ve also never believed in all that “giving your blessing” shite. I can’t think of anything that would make my Teddy happier, anything that would make me and her mother happier, for that matter!”

Tom rested a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, smiling. “It would be an honour, Andrew. You know me and Daphne already consider you a part of the family, might as well make it official.” Something gleamed in his eyes and Andrew couldn’t stop himself from getting emotional, too.  

“Does she know about it?” Tom asked, nodding in the direction of the ring. 

“No, her one request was that it should be a surprise. Also that if I proposed to her on a beach, she would dispose of my body in the ocean, but luckily that’s not the plan.”

Tom chuckled, “God, I would pay to see her face. She’s gonna be ecstatic. But let’s get back inside, before the ladies start suspecting anything.”

As the night progressed, Andrew felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. At the dinner table, he shared knowing looks with Tom and listened to Daphne’s stories and looked at Sam as she basked in the love of her parents. He couldn’t wait to start forever with her. He didn’t view this as the end of their love story, merely a new beginning.

Notes:

The Tom fanclub is meeting on my tumblr, see you there!

Chapter 10: Graduation - sit back and watch the world go by

Notes:

Welcome to the end of our journey, we made it! :D

It is indeed a bittersweet moment, as this fic provided such sweet memories in an otherwise difficult year. I know I will miss writing it, but I'm also of the belief that it's best to keep 'em wanting more. So thank you if you're reading this! The interest in this story honestly blew me away, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine meeting so many lovely people because of a frantic note I made on my phone in the middle of the night. But I should probably keep this speech short and get to the action - apologies, I have a tendency to ramble.

We are attending a graduation this chapter, a very engaging affair indeed ;)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Across town, university students were waking up to a very important day. The day all their hours in the library and breakdowns in dorm rooms were leading to. It was time for their graduation. A big life event signalling the end to the irresponsible years of one’s journey to adulthood, ushering in the stressful proceedings of going out into the real world and living a life unburdened by academic assignments and dealing with unresponsive lecturers. 

As they said hello to the life of possibilities that lay before them, so too are they saying goodbye to the lives they had built at university, during their first attempts at being independent adults. They would now be leaving behind the spaces they had come to know - that one lecture hall with the obnoxiously squeaky chairs, that spot in the quad that had the perfect sun-to-shade ratio for a quick hangout between classes, even the coveted tables in the cafeteria away from the bins and away from the noisy first years.

They would also be leaving behind authority figures that either enlightened and nurtured them or made their lives a living hell. Luckily, most fell in the former category. Many of Samantha Brown and Andrew Hozier-Byrne’s students made a big deal of telling them how much they will be missed, and in the majority of cases, the feelings were reciprocated. 

Samantha always joked that, because she has had all her own graduations, she now experienced them much like a parent would. She was always so proud of her students for making it to the finish line. If she could stand up and clap for each one as they passed her on stage, she would. Instead, she sneakily accepted the tissues Andrew held out to her as soon as he heard her start to sniffle.

She was thankful for the unique circumstances that lead to her always having a buddy for emotional days such as these. Sure, she and Andrew teased each other relentlessly about how sentimental they got each year, but she cherished it like nothing else.

Similar to her students, Sam woke up with that strange manic kind of feeling in her chest. The feeling was almost tangible, like she could stick her finger in the air and be like “Yep, it was graduation day.” She took a moment for herself, knowing the emotions that the day held in store, but just thinking about seeing all the smiling faces completely an important chapter of their lives today made excitement flutter in her chest. 

The smell of coffee distracted her from her moment of zen, reminding her that the spot next to her was empty. Andrew seemed to be awake already. She could hear movement from the kitchen and gathered all her courage to leave the soft, warm haven of their bed. He was up reading the paper, coffee cup in hand, and offered her some as she entered the room.  “You ready?” he asked, knowing the emotional weight of today. 

Sam took a sip before answering, “As long as the vice chancellor keeps his welcoming speech short and sweet, I’ll be fine.”

They followed their normal routine of getting ready, although taking extra care to look professional and presentable. It was a big day on the academic calendar after all! Sam put on some light make-up and Andrew took care of trimming his beard.

“Oh my god…” Andrew’s voice came from their en-suite, sounding somewhat shocked. Sam leaning closer to the open door with concern, “Everything alright? You didn’t nick your ear off, did you?”

Andrew didn’t respond to her attempt at a joke, she was just met with a pregnant silence.

“Babe?” Sam tried again, this time properly entering the bathroom and approaching him. 

After a few moments, he spoke up. “I think I found a gray hair…”

Sam had to keep from laughing. He made it sound a lot more serious. Here she was thinking they’d have to rush to the hospital! Her eyes flicked down to his facial hair - it all still looked wonderfully, gingery brown to her.

“It’s somewhere down here, next to my chin!” He pointed at the spot, but Sam still saw nothing. She took him by the face, her hand cupping his chin and lifting it so she could see easier. “You want me to pluck it or?”

Andrew took a moment to answer. He was momentarily distracted from the perils of mortality by the cold press of Sam’s engagement ring against his cheek. She was his fiancée! He had a fiancée . This pretty lady busy studying his face was engaged to be married, to him , of all people!

After multiple attempts at doing something special only for it to blow up in his face, Andrew had decided to keep it simple. They were on their weekly walk with Seamus and they had reached a pretty part of the forest near their house. Sam and Seamus were walking a bit ahead, as the latter had found a big stick and he was not letting go no matter how much Sam begged. 

He had taken a few deep breaths, not that he was nervous, he had wanted to do this for months, but just because of the weight of the moment. It was a big thing and he wanted to do it right. He had been drafting his speech for a while. He was a literal poet so surely his proposal should be out of this world. He had definitely put pressure on himself by making that career choice. Nice going there, buddy!

Sam was a few feet ahead, with her back to him, gesturing wildly as she negotiated with Seamus to drop the stick. Andrew walked up to them. He had been checking the entire walk but he still felt relief as he reached into his pocket and felt the familiar box. Sam was right in front of him now, a simple tap on the shoulder would turn her around and everything would be set in motion. 

He took to one knee as quietly as possibly, not wanting to alert Sam prematurely. He held the ring. It was now or never. “Honey?”

At that moment, Seamus finally dropped the stick. “Thank fuck! Andy, look at the size o – Oh my god!” Sam had wildly turned around to present the stick to Andrew, proceeding to hit him in the head with it. He toppled over into the mud, clutching at his head. 

“Oh my god, are you alright? You sneaked up on me! Oh my god, are you bleeding? Are you concussed? Should I be asking you what day it is?” The questions tumbled out of Sam’s mouth at lightning speed, making it all sound like one long word. She was nearing hysteria, “I don’t even know how to check for these kinds of stuff! Should I even be moving your head right now?” She was referring to the way she had taken Andrew’s head in her hands, moving it around looking for injuries. 

“Honey, I’m fine, I promise,” Andrew tried laughing his headache away, starting to get up and dusting himself off. As he stared down at his muddied trousers, he noticed something. His hand was empty. Fuck, fuck, fuck . He started frantically looking around, hoping a familiar shape might catch his eyes.

Sam was obviously very confused by this. “Uh...Did you drop something? What’s it? Let me help!”

Andrew spluttered out a panicked “No!” and before Sam could ask any follow-up questions, his fingers wrapped around the sturdy little cube. He checked to see in what state it was in and quickly used his shirt to wipe off any dirt. Sam stood frozen as she watched the utter frenzy that was her boyfriend unfold in front of her. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Andrew going down on his knee.

“Okay, so I sort of practised what I wanted to say, because I wanted this to be perfect for you, but I’m pretty sure you smacked any sort of sense out of my brain with that branch. Actually, I would say that’s what you did to me when we met, knocked all sense out of me in the best way possible. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. It just is who I am, loving you. 

“I want the rest of my life to be with you. I want to wake up every morning and hear that weird little snoring thing you do. I want to hear you say “Oh, it’s snowing!’ every winter and see you read out in the garden every summer. I want to argue with you about wines and have you press your cold feet against my back when we’re in bed and hear you snort laugh when it wakes me up. 

“We’ve got this little world of our own that we’ve built. You are the first person I tell everything to, all of these things no one else knows. You have crept into every corner of my soul, places no one else has been to before and I can’t imagine doing life without you. 

I want to keep living in this little world we’ve created for ourselves, for as long as you’ll have me, so Samantha Calliope Brown, will you marry me?”

They stood in silence for a few moments, Sam still looking utterly shellshocked. Andrew’s heart, however, calmed somewhat when he saw a smirk takeover her face.

“I can’t believe you remembered that bet! How was I supposed to know you’d remember me joking about you having to quote Westlife in your proposal?” Sam’s hands flew up to her face, covering her mouth, perhaps to keep in the incredulous giggles. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Ehm, not to rush you, honey, but I think there is a more pressing question at hand…” Andrew tried.

“Oh my–Yes! Of course! Don’t even have to think about it, yes, yes, yes!”

When Andrew closed his eyes, he could still take himself back to that moment. The warmth of Sam jumping into his arms, the mirth of her laugh in his ears, the crunch of the leaves under his feet and Seamus barks as he begged to join in on the celebrations. 

A pinch brought him back to reality. “I think I got it, old timer,” Sam smiled, holding up the tweezer, with the tiniest gray hair at the tip of it, as if it were a trophy. 

“I don’t know why I’m so freaked out by it. You’d think a man familiar with the fact that his students have a theory about him being an immortal would be more graceful about ageing.”

“It’s alright, babe, I think you’d make a sexy silver fox,” Sam teased, kissing him on the forehead before putting the tweezer away. She turned to exit the en-suite, but paused and turned half her body to meet Andrew’s eyes in the mirror. “Also the real joke is that your students think you’re cool enough to be an immortal. I mean, come on! If they were the ones that saw you freak out about a new Legend of Zelda release, they’d share my enlightened wisdom that you are just some guy. Some nerd, even!”

“Hey! That’s Future Husband Some Guy to you!”

-

The hall was alive with bustling figures and excited voices. The ceremony would be starting any minute and there was an unexpressed agreement among the undergraduates that they would be on the lookout for two members of the English department in particular. There had been unsubstantiated mutterings that a friend of someone’s cousin who had Professor Brown as their supervisor several years ago got to have dinner at her house once. 

The story confirmed that Professor Brown was as lovely outside of class as she was inside, but the source of the story apparently had no information about other residents of the house. Besides Seamus, of course. Out of this frustration, grew the feeling that graduation would provide closure. The whole class and Professors Brown and Hozier-Byrne would be forced into a hall where any possible interactions could be observed discreetly. 

A few rows over, the postgraduate students were idly unaware of the valuable insight they possessed. Several of them have been guests at the Hozier-Byrne-Brown house, dining happily with Sam and Andrew (as they had insisted to be called) and have had Seamus sleeping at their side as they discussed theory in the living room. Perhaps it was a sort of honour bestowed upon you as you entered the post-grad life. As, of course, many saw it as a privilege to get to know their impressive and intimidatingly smart lecturers on a more personal level.

As if from the heavens, classical music started droning through the room, a cue for everyone to take their seats. The chatter quickly ceased and the academic procession started. This was Sam’s least favourite part of the day, as it feels entirely too elitist and formal. She met Andrew’s eyes and did an exaggerated eye roll, for which she got an amused smile. They walked alongside their colleagues up to the stage in their silly little robes and Sam couldn't help but get overwhelmed by the excitement that fizzled in the air. God, she couldn’t start crying this early.

Andrew’s pinky nudged her hand as they stood waiting for everyone to join them on stage, making Sam’s attention shift to his face. He made a face that could only be interpreted as “Crying already? That’s got to be a new record.”

She hoped her face conveyed “No! Just feeling the usual insane mixture of happiness, excitement, nerves and pride I always feel. No tears yet!”

Andrew seemed satisfied with this response, answering her with a quick, subtle nod. As prompted by the vice chancellor, they finally took their seats and looked out at the sea of people receiving their degrees today.

And the sea was definitely looking back. As the postgraduate students were up first, the undergraduates had plenty of time to delight in the fact that Professor Brown and Hozier-Byrne were seated next to each other. The two of them snuck looks at each other frequently and adorably enough, Professor Brown clapped extra enthusiastically for the students that she had supervised. It seemed Professor Hozier-Byrne tried to be a tad more impartial, but he made sure to share a smile with his students as they crossed the stage. 

-

It wasn’t until a few of the undergraduates had crossed the stage that someone saw it. They caught sight of the ring on Professor Brown’s left hand as she reached up to fix her glasses. They almost froze on the spot, absolutely floored by what this could possibly imply. Soon enough, as they all started taking their seats again one by one, the news started to spread. Those in rows closer to the front squinted to confirm that the sighting had indeed been accurate. Rows further back started countering with scepticism. Jewellery is completely normal, a ring could just be a ring, surely? This negativity was met with the counterpoint that Professor Brown never wore jewellery on her hands. Sure, she wore the extravagant pair of earrings from time to time, but no one has ever seen her with so much as a bracelet, much less rings. 

They all watched as Professor Brown rubbed at her nose. They couldn’t quite hear it, but was she sniffing? Had she started crying? Before they could become too endeared by her show of emotion, they started in shock as Professor Hozier-Byrne subtly reached into a back pocket and handed her his handkerchief. You could practically hear hundreds of graduates’ minds going crazy. 

To be witnesses to these small, almost intimate moments, felt surreal given that they had never even seen their professors in the same room before. But more than that, it was the absolute joy knowing that two of the loveliest people most of them had ever encountered had each other. In the limited capacity that they knew their educators, the two seemed so perfect for each other, like they couldn’t imagine anyone else having the honour and privilege of dating such a wonderful person.  

 

“Some people from the department wanna go out for drinks, you up for it?” Everyone had scattered into different groups to chat after the ceremony had ended. Andrew appeared out of nowhere, politely interrupting Sam’s conversation with a now former student. His hand delicately placed on her shoulder turned Sam’s attention to his smiling face.  “Oh my god, yeah! I’m just gonna finish up here and then we can go!” She replied happily, more than keen on spending time with her amazing colleagues. 

 

Audrey : Just before everyone leaves the group chat, I have an IMPORTANT UPDATE! So I was talking to prof Brown after graduation and prof Hozier-Byrne came over and asked if she wanted to go for drinks with the rest of the department!! AHHHHHHHHH

And the way prof Brown answered made it seem like it happens regularly and that they are gonna go ~together~ AND OH MY GOD, I ALMOST FORGOT, HER RING IS EVEN PRETTIER UP CLOSE

 

“I’m sure you all are just as excited as I am to finally celebrate this exciting development within our department. To the smartest engaged couple out there!” Anthony, the head of their department, toasted, holding up his glass of wine for the rest of the table to follow. Sam immediately started blushing and hiding behind her hands. She could hear Andrew chuckling shyly next to her, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her into him. “Thank you Anthony, and everyone! We promise wedding planning won’t get in the way of our work too much…” he answered for both of them.

Everyone laughed and fell back into their conversations. A couple of people whisked Andrew away to the bar, probably for some congratulatory shots, and Sam was swept up in requests to see the ring. Even though she considered herself a somewhat non-traditional bride, she couldn’t help but enjoy the attention and squeals of joy everytime she so much as moved her left hand. She relished in telling their engagement story (everyone always got a kick out of the part where she hit Andrew with a huge branch) and had to keep herself from becoming the “my fiancé ” person. After all these years together, she still couldn’t believe she gets to look over at Andrew and know that that is her person. The goof over at the bar gesturing wildly as he told a story, wearing the shirt he knew Sam found him irresistible in. She could enjoy the cute way he tucked his hair behind his ear when he was listening to someone and the way he laughed with his whole body.

Andrew’s truly the person she gets to do everything with, gets to know so completely, the person who saw every inch of her being and decided “Yes, you, for forever.”

-

“Oh my god, could you stay still? I’m trying to get your shoes off!” 

Andrew was the drunkest he had been in a while. The room was spinning, as if he was on a tiny little rowboat on a treacherous ocean and somewhere in the distance he could hear Sam’s voice. That voice she does where she pretends to be annoyed but she is just endlessly amused. 

“I promise you, if I’m moving, ’s not my fault,” Andrew tried to defend himself. 

“Can’t believe I signed myself up for this for the rest of my life…”

Andrew laughed at that and tried to sit up to look Sam in the eye. “Love you toooooo,” he sang, concentrating very hard on trying to move closer for a kiss. Sam indulged him, even though he probably tasted, and smelled, of whiskey. 

“You want me to take your trousers off too? Sleeping in khakis can’t be comfortable…”

“Are you trying to undress me, babe?” Andrew feigned shock, grabbing at his metaphorical pearls. 

Sam rolled her eyes, but with the biggest smile on her face. She forgot how adorable wasted Andrew was. “No getting lucky tonight, love, sorry to tell you. Not with the massive headache you’re gonna have tomorrow.”

Andrew’s face scrunched up in a pout, “Can’t help the guys kept buying me drinks. At least now everyone knows I’m the luckiest man alive!”

Sam laughed as Andrew’s trousers got stuck at his ankles, but he didn’t seem to notice. She could sense a monologue incoming. “Oh yeah, you got a winning lottery ticket or something?” Sam entertained him. 

“I wouldn’t call you a lottery ticket, but I definitely feel like I won the jackpot…” 

“Oh my god, time to get you to bed!”

“But, babe!” Andrew protested, wrapping his arms around Sam and pulling her close to him, nearly sending them backwards onto the bed. “It’s true!”

“Well, thank you. Now will the love of my life please get into bed? We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“The love of your life certainly will,” Andrew smiled languidly at the title, seemingly satisfied. Slowly and with great care, he moved himself up the bed and fell onto his pillow, not even bothering with the covers. 

As Sam slipped away to put on her pyjamas, the familiar sound of paws entered the room. “Seamus, my boy!” Andrew exclaimed, holding up his arm as if to welcome Seamus onto the bed. Seamus joyfully cuddled up to Andrew, probably revelling in his body heat. 

Sam couldn’t help but grin at her little family. Andrew slowly slipping into sleep with the most content smile on his face, practically spooning with their dog who Andrew assured her never showed clear favouritism. She tried to get into bed as quietly as possible, but couldn’t resist planting a kiss on Andrew’s forehead. “Love you,” she whispered, pretty sure she could never mean two words more than she did in that moment. But she knew there were a lot more I love you’s to come, ones said with laughter and ones with the utmost sincerity. Ones whispered and ones exclaimed. Ones written down and ones said without any words. And she couldn’t wait to say them all.

Notes:

Once again, thank you to each and every person who took the time to read this and for experiencing this universe alongside me! I hope this ending was to your satisfaction (if you ask nicely enough, I perhaps have some deleted scenes/uncompleted parts to share!)

A wonderful rest of April and 2022 to you all! Hopefully we all get to hear Unreal Unearth soon :)

P.S. Please come cry with me on tumblr (icanttakethemonmyown), I am surprisingly emotional about Sam and Andrew's journey ending :( and would love to hear any and all thoughts (even seemingly irrelevant ones, I wanna hear them all!)

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