I promised you. | Austin Butler

Part 24

Andrew : I'm home. Gyms fine, just some shaken up staff. Where are you? 

Followed by a message 4 hours later, the 6 missed calls in-between. 

Andrew : I called Brad. He told me you weren't there but said you were okay. His tone told me everything. I hope he's worth it Leanne, I really fucking do. Call me tomorrow. 

I couldn't be mad at Brad, how could I? He didn't tell him where I was but offered a recollection of my whereabouts and I know its so Andrew didn't spend the rest of the night calling me, which I know he would of done. I sigh as I look at the time, just short after 8am, and see he was last active 8 minutes ago. 

Leanne : I'm sorry, Andrew. I really am. I'll be home soon.

My heart is beating in my chest as I send the message. What else could I say, really? There was no point lying anymore, no matter how much it would break him. 

He see's the message immediately and I walk my way back over to the bed, picking up my discarded thong from earlier. I felt dirty to put it back on but unless Austin had a spare pair lying around somewhere, which I much doubted, it would have to do. I place my phone and the ring on the bed as I slip my legs into them and pull them in, pulling Austin's t-shirt back down to cover up some modesty as I see him typing out a response. But his response never comes. He's typing and then he's not, he's online and then he's not, and then after a while I simply sigh, taking the hint. This was going to hurt like a ton of bricks in a couple hours time, but right now my nostrils were filled with the smell of coffee the sound of clanging mugs and I gather myself, leaving my phone on the bed. 

Austins apartment looked different in the daylight, but so beautiful. I can tell a lot of already came furnished, but some of the paintings on the walls, the huge framed Elivs poster by the front door, the odd plant here and there, I can tell it was his own spin to try and make it more homely. A smile washed over me at the thought of spending countless nights here as I think back to his offer the night prior, but when I finally emerge into the kitchen and see him waiting for the coffee to pour into the mug, his muscles flexed as he leans against the counter, his fingers tapping against the marble surface, there is nothing more certain that wherever this man goes, I want to go with him. 

He doesn't hear me come in, and I think about sitting myself on the stool and watching him silently, but his presence pulls me towards him and I wrap my arounds around his waist from behind, my lips connecting with his shoulder blades. He jumps slightly at my touch, but a chuckle escapes his lips just seconds after.

"Morning, beautiful." he says, as if this was any normal morning in our lives and our first encounter that day. 

"Morning." I say now as he spins around in my grasp to place a kiss on my lips. The coffee stops pouring then and a smile tugs on his lips as I look across to it. The Champagne and whiskey we never ended up drinking the day before not far away from the machine. I move my hands away from my sides now and he taps the counter just at the side of us. 

"Sit." he says. "Let me make you breakfast." 

I smile at the fond memories of our late teens / early twenties. Every weekend without fail he would make me breakfast, and because we were inseparable I would sit myself on the counter in the kitchen somewhere and watch him peacefully, or we'd laugh and joke or make plans for the day ahead. The nostalgia sent my stomach in a twist as I brushed my hand against his before I take the few steps forward and jump up, pulling his oversized t-shirt up slightly so it didn't pull at the back and have the neckline choke me. I watch as his jaw clenches when he see's my exposed legs, and I can't deny I do nothing to help the situation, a mischievous smile growing on my lips as I stretch my arms giving off a fake but believable yawn, allowing it to rise even further up my legs.