Hearts of Gray (Andy Biersack Love Story)

Chapter Eleven: Love Works In Strange Ways. It's Different After Making Love.

I wake up, nude, from white sun falling into our room. I feel two long arms around me and a chin ontop of my head. I sigh happliy and cuddle more into his bare chest.

It takes another moment before I realize this isn't Jacky's smell.

This isn't Jacky's length.

This isn't Jacky's build.

This isn't Jacky's bed.

This isn't even Jacky's state.

This isn't Jacky.

I open my eyes and look up at the lad holding me to him. My eyes get large as they take in the familiar details.

"Bloody fuck!" I shout as I scramble away, clutching onto the sheets to cover myself.

Andy wakes up from my exclamation, so he sits up. He immediately grabs his head like it hurts.

I suddenly get a raging headache as I stumble to the corner of the room, trying to get as far from him as possible.

"A-Andy?!" I ask hysterically as I try and grab at my clothes.

"Gray, don't freak out," he says slowly.

"Freak out?!" I shriek, causing a knife of searing pain to plunge into my temple. "I have ever right to bloody freak out! I'm nude! You're nude! Wh-What's going on?!"

"Stop yelling and I'll explain it to you!" he says. He doesn't shout it, but he says it loud enough that he's trying to get to a point of calmness.

I fall to my knees on the floor. "I don't get it," I say.

I hear ruffling of sheets, then I see Andy's large feet walking towards me. He has a cover around his bottom half, using it like I'm using my sheet, to cover himself. He sits cross legged across from me.

After a long pause, Andy says, "Gray, you were drunk last night. So was I. This shouldn't mean anything."

In the pause, I was given a moment to recollect my thoughts from last night. "Hush," I say absently, trying to think.

Andy keeps going, saying something about how he's sorry. I can't think with him chatting my ear off so I snap, "Shut up!"

His eyes get wide and his shoulders slump. "Sorry," he mutters.

I sigh. "I'm sorry, mate. Just let me think a moment."

"Okay," he says, grabbing my hands.

I reposition my legs so now I'm sitting cross legged myself. I stare at our hands as I recall last night's events. Drinking. Dancing. Seeing Andy being angry. Following him. Coming into his hotel room. Me admitting what really happened the evening of homecoming. Then it started trailing off as his lips made contact with mine...

"Andy, do you recall what happened last night?" I ask.

"Yes," he answers simply.

"What all do you remember?" I ask.

"Everything," he says. "Including us making love."

At the spoken sound of it, the memory floods back to my mind, causing me to wince from the sharp pain. I remember, though, the feeling I had with him. The pleasure and heat that we created. And even after that, when we were holding each other afterwards.

"I'm sorry," Andy says, sounding offended.

I frown and look up at him. "Why are you apologizing? I mean, this time."

"You winced when I reminded you we made love," he says.

I quickly shake my head. "No! That's not what made me wince! My bloody hangover is what made me wince, not the actual memory!"