𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘌𝘔𝘗𝘛𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘚 𝘖𝘍 𝘔𝘌 - HOZIER

V

FIVE.

As the rain continued to beat down on the pothole ridden pavement, forcing the stray cats underneath roof tents and into heaping piles of trash littering the streets, Andrews hand did the same slamming to the peeling green paint on the door. He had seen much worse storms in Dublin, days where towns were ripped apart just from winds and hail tore through weak roofs, yet this weather felt worse than ever. With the gloomy conditions mixed with the tightening of his chest and the thoughts clogging his mind, Andrew felt like he was standing in the heart of a hurricane.

He pulled his hand from the door as he was again met with no response, and lowered his eyes to his shoes in near defeat. He gave Vivienne a few hours to cool off, and himself as well, before he finally gathered the courage to hail a cab to her front door. The attention he had drawn from her neighbors, their heads sticking out of the window in curiosity from the last 2 minutes of his fist rapping on the wood, was enough to make him want to turn back to the street, or lay face down in a puddle from embarrassment. However, Andrew couldn't pull himself away no matter how much his brain told him it was a stupid decision, and as he raised his hand for another round of slams on the door, he was met with a delightful surprise.

"I was sleeping, asshole." Vivienne opened the door just enough to reveal her sluggish figure in the entryway, dawning plaid pajama pants and a bleach stained black tank top that swung well below her neckline, making Andrew glance away to recollect his thoughts. "What, are you here to win me back or some shit?"

Andrew smiled at the snarky comment. He cleared his throat, his hands tucked into his pockets but his eyes still looking anywhere else but in front of him. "Can I come in?"

Vivienne's brows snapped together, then she sighed. As much as she hated to see Andrew at the moment, she was raised with enough manners to know that leaving him in the rain wasn't an option for her guilty conscious. "Fuckin'... whatever..." She grumbled, leaving the door open behind her and wandering off into the dark of her apartment.

Andrew wiped his soles onto the concrete before following, gently closing the door behind him and kicking off his sneakers on the tile. As he rounded the corner of the entryway, he watched Vivienne's figure move through the room, pulling open the blackout curtains to allow whatever was left of the daylight into her home. Andrew surveyed the area in the meantime, discovering cluttered bookshelves, various instruments collecting dust along the walls, a wildly small couch that couldn't even fit half of his left leg, and a well organized kitchen tucked into the corner of the uncomfortably small apartment. It seemed that the cheap sitcoms he had seen got it right; just about everyone in New York lived in worse floor plans than the mice in the walls.

"Ignore the shit everywhere. I wasn't expecting... you." Vivienne pulled a piece of clothing from a desk chair and threw it over her head, and when Andrews gaze finally met her in front of him, he couldn't help the small smile pulling at his cheeks.