Andy On My Mind (1D/ Liam Payne)

CH28

 As always, this is an apology for taking what seems like forever to update. I know what it feels like to have to wait for new chapters for a story that I enjoy, but there really is no way of pausing all things that are happening in my life. Let's just say that growing up is proving to be more a lot busier than expected. With that being said, thank you for being patient with me and thank you for your non-stop support. A couple days ago, this story reached over 300,000 reads and Stay Golden, Lennon reached over 400,000 so like I constantly say, I'm forever grateful x

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I stared at him, a few feet away. He was definitely struggling. It'd been a long day of rehearsals, and although I had never really been a dancer, I was faring better than he was. Someone was definitely overthinking things, and this time it wasn't me.

I promised myself as I stared at my ceiling unable to fall asleep last night, that I would give him some space. However, despite what had happened yesterday, something inside me couldn't just stand by and watch him miserably flailing his limbs in the air with no semblance of coherent fluidity. I knew how badly he wanted it years ago, and I could only imagine how much he wanted it now, and although he still hated my guts, I couldn't force myself to reciprocate his bitterness. I was still rooting for him.

“Just like this,” I told Liam, after approaching him cautiously. I showed him the dance move that he was struggling with, keeping my distance.

“I am doing it like that!” he claimed. “Aren't I?” he added, unsure of himself.

“Hmm... not so much,” I said, chuckling. I was trying so hard to lift the mood between us into something lighthearted and non-threatening so I could help him.

“Don't laugh at me,” he accused. “I never said I was a good dancer!”

I shook my head profusely, all the while averting my gaze. “I wasn't. I promise. I'm not laughing.”

He tried doing the move again but almost stumbled. This time, I definitely couldn't hold my laughter in. I walked towards him and closed the distance between us so I could reach for his arm to manually show him where his limbs should go. As soon as my hand made contact with his arm, he flinched. “Calm down, I'm not going to bite your head off,” I said. He feigned a soft chuckle, but I just ignored the awkward situation.

“You're thinking too much,” I told him, as I tugged on his arm to move it the right direction. “I don't understand why you're having so much difficulty with this.”

“I just don't understand why they're making us dance. This is a singing competition!” he whined. Somehow, his distressful grumbling was overshadowing his prior harboured feelings over our past. He was letting me help him, and this time, I knew better than to bring up anything but the dancing.

“I'm pretty sure they're not judging how well you can pirouette or shake your rump. They just want to see if you can adapt to new situations.”

“But this is ridiculous!” he whined. “Stupid, even.”

“Liam!” I scolded. “Get it through your thick head. You need to pause your over-analyzing and realize that all this thinking is not helping you at all.”

He stared at me; mouth agape, and then shut into an almost thin line that almost curled up into an almost small smile at the corner of his lips. Then, he blinked a few times. His long lashes brushed his waterline, and I just stared back at him, matching the intensity of his gaze, but not quite, and so I raised an eyebrow to question him.

“Nothing, mum,” he said, lowering his volume at the second word. He gave me a boyish grin while taking a step back, distancing himself from the arm that he knew was about to swing at the back of his head.

I explicitly rolled my eyes and scoffed dramatically, pretending that I was highly offended. With heavy stomps, I started to walk away, but he was quick to reach for me. With one arm, he twirled me around, spun me out, pulled me back in and wrapped both arms around me before bringing me to a dip. It happened so fast that I could barely catch my breath as he held my body halfway to the ground. I guess the lack of air going into my lungs meant that there wasn't enough going to my brain as well, and so the genius (note: heavy sarcasm here) that I am let an apology slip through my mouth again.

“Liam, I really am sorry,” I told him, barely above a whisper, inches from his face.

I knew as soon as I had said it that it was a mistake to bring it up again. The little lighthearted exchange we just had dissipated into thin air, and all that was left were remnants of the grin he had just seconds ago.

He carefully and awkwardly pulled me back up so that we were both standing. We were facing each other, still close, but not like before. He took a step back, but the look in his eyes said that he was already far away.

“I'm sorry,” I repeated, but this was a different apology. Looking at down at the space between us instead of his eyes, I continued. “I'm really sorry,” I stuttered. I was tumbling over my words but I knew that I had to undo what just happened. “I shouldn't have apologized again. I was going to stop and keep my distance from you and not keep shoving my apologies in your face because I think I was just driving you to be more pissed at me. I don't known why. I just felt the need to help you with your dancing, and then you let me in, just for a few seconds and it felt like things were back to normal for that split second in time and now I just ruined it by bringing up the past again. I'm sorry. I'll stop,” I mumbled on and on without so much taking a pause to catch my breath.

I was about to bolt, to remove myself as far from the situation as I could, knowing that I was mistaken and he was probably about to tell me that I should have known better., but he surprised me. He pulled me back in again

“Andy, I really don't know what to say,” he said, his voice strained. “I mean, you were right, it was nice for a split second back there and things felt like how they were between us back then, but I just... I don't know.”

“It's fine. I get it,” I answered with a heavy weight in my chest.

“No, no, just let me explain. It's just weird, okay? I've spent years bitter about you leaving without saying goodbye, and then you just walk right back into my life expecting that I'd forgive you easily? It's more complicated than that.”

“I get it. I'll just keep my distance from you. It's what I deserve for what I did. It's all my fault,” I nodded, about to walk away again, but his grip remained firm around my arm.

“Wait,” he insisted. “Don't go.”

I blinked back at him in confusion. Wasn't this what he wanted? Was this not what he was trying to tell me?

“I'm not saying I completely forgive you,” he began cautiously. “It'll take time for things between us to go back to the way they were, and even then, some things might not be the same. But you have the right to now that I could never hate you. As much as I was hurt for what you did, I guess if I empathize hard enough I could sort of see your reasons. I'm kind of rambling on and on now, but yeah, I guess what I'm trying to say is that time is all we need.”

I nodded and reached out to give him a hug. Surprisingly, he returned it by wrapping his arms around me. In that moment, it felt as if our limbs instinctively knew how to fit around each others bodies. It felt right with my cheek resting on his shoulder and his arms resting on my lower back. I don't quite know how else to describe it besides home. I knew then that even if things weren't completely fixed, things weren't completely lost either, and that was enough hope for me to hold on to.