The Memory Playlist

Sixteen Candles

Niki.

"Good morning, beautiful birthday girl," Andy murmurs as I start stretching.

I smile as I let my arm fall back over his chest. I sit up and kiss him, and he just smiles in that way that he does with all his teeth. He turns us over and holds my face in his hand as we kiss.

"Such a nice wake up call," I tease.

He smiles his wide smile again. "I don't mind waking you up like that," he says. His voice is low and gravelly from the early hour and I swim in the sound.

I smile and kiss him once before sitting up and stretching again, my shoulders popping. Andy sits up with me and kisses my shoulder blade, the nape of my neck as I lift my hair to shake it out, my neck, my shoulder, the hinge of my jaw, my cheek. I giggle as his kisses fall and he only smiles between them. "You're looking just as beautiful as you do every morning. I'd say you look more beautiful, but I swear I think that every morning."

I supress another giggle at his words. "You're such a sweet boy," I say, looking over my shoulder at him.

He pecks my lips. "Only to you, Baby Doll," he says.

"No, you're sweet to other people," I say, standing. "Just not as sweet as you are to me." I walk by his nightstand and grab one of the packs of cigarettes and my zippo lighter, then I glance behind me and offer. As I go to open the balcony doors, though, I'm met with the sudden sound of rain, and harsh rain at that.

"It's supposed to be stormy today until tonight," Andy explains. "Which is good 'cause you like rainy."

"I like rainy," I say, "not stormy." Storms scare the shit out of me and have since I was two.

Andy "mm"s as he lays back and recalls my earlier mention of stormy weather. I move back to the bed and sit by his lounging form and light the cigarette there, although I don't like smoking inside and making the house smell like smoke. I need to quit these things. Andy gestures for one, so I give him one and he lights it while laying down, which is dangerous but I don't protest because I'm not his mother and don't tell him what to do.

"Well, I'll be here to cuddle with if the storm hits L.A.," he says, glancing at me as he blows out billow of smoke. "No storm is gonna' ruin my girl's day."

I laugh as I take a drag. "So nice to me on my birthday."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," he jokes, sitting up and against the headboard.

I sigh in content as I just sit and smoke with Andy. It's a nice morning this way.

"Doing anything other than lunch with the girls today?" he asks, grabbing his phone.

"I don't think so," I answer.

"Don't eat too much, 'cause I'm taking you to dinner," he says. "What time is lunch?"

"Twelve thirty," I say.

"Mm-kay," he hums, unlocking his phone.

I stand again and snuff out my cigarette, tear his face away from his phone so I can kiss him, and check the time on his phone, which reads ten thirty. I walk away and to the bathroom, where I have my morning pee and I shower.

At eleven I start doing my hair and getting ready a little early, just for the sake of getting ready. A shirt from Fronz's "Stay Sick" line with the label "Fuck Your Opinions", which I've cut up because I like cutting my shirts up, rests on my shoulders and a pair of distressed tights and shorts adorn my legs. My hair is actually on point today as is my make-up, and today I feel really pretty.

I carry my boots downstairs even though I won't wear them for a little while and set them by the doorway to the kitchen. Andy is in the living room, watching "That Metal Show" if I'm hearing correctly. I go into the kitchen and fill a bowl with a little bit of cereal to tide me over and go out to Andy. I sit on the couch against the right arm rest and drape my legs over him. It's so calm and nice.

When I return home from lunch, the rain has thinned but hasn't stopped. It's strange for California's weather to be so dreary, especially when earlier this week it had reached almost ninety. As they say, I guess, April showers bring May flowers. And it's not like I'm going to complain. I would've taken my Jeep to the diner had my hair not been so perfect and Andy had allowed it.

I carry my few bags of chocolate-covered coffee beans, t-shirts, and lingerie- from Riot of course, into the house. "I'm home!" I call, setting Andy's keys down on the rack we have in the kitchen. I set my things down on the counter as I hear him shuffle in the living room. "Andy?" I call. I take one step onto the wood flooring of the dining room.

A single chord strikes. Andy slides into view from behind the half wall, using his socks on the smooth word surface to do so. His arm is pointed at me as he mouths the words "Happy birthday." His lips move with the song "Sixteen Candles" by the Crests, which is an old song, but he knows I love old music like this because of my dad. He's dressed nicely, a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons undone aodring his chest and plain black skinny jeans clinging to his legs. He steps a little closer as the last line of the opening verse ends, and as the singer sings "sixteen candles" he leans in and presses his lips to mine. I can smell his body wash on his freshly cleaned porcelain skin and smell the cologne he uses to suffocate my senses in desire. "You may not be sixteen, but at least I can sing nineteen over it," Andy says, smiling.

I smile back and kiss him. "You look nice," I say.

"I have to look nice for my baby's birthday," he says, lifting our arms and spinning me around. He pulls me in with a hand on the small of my back and has me step on his toes, and with our connected hands he holds them up and starts stepping us around. "I was going to have your present here by now, but you took the car that's rain-proof so I'll have to wait until tomorrow."

I raise a brow. "What's my present?"

"Ah-ah-ah," he says, a sly smile on his lips as he shakes his head. "Just because it's late doesn't mean you get to know what it is."

I roll my eyes. "Okay," I say, feigning a pout.

His smile lessens slightly as he steps us around. "Let's just say we've talked about this a few times before."

"Oh that totally narrows it down," I say, a brow raised.

He laughs at himself. "We haven't talked about a ton of things a few times," he says. We step around in silence for almost the entire song. It's nice just being so close to him and being able to take a moment.

He clears his throat after a while and changes the subject. "Where do you want to go for dinner tonight, Baby Doll? I'm taking you anywhere you want to go."

"Mm, we can make a picnic and go to a park," I suggest, my tone teasing because I know he won't allow it.

"How about no," he says, bending us over like picture-perfect movies as the song ends. He kisses me once. "Baby, you need to remember that you aren't invincible," he says as "Put Your Head On My Shoulder" by Paul Anka starts. I absolutely love this song. My head rests on his shoulder as he steps us around.

"Sometimes I feel like it when I'm around you," I say.

He kisses my hair. "It's just because you know I'll protect you through everything," he murmurs. "I know I've told you enough times, and I mean it every time."

I pull away enough to see him. His eyes instantly meet mine and he holds my face with hands. I wrap my arms around his neck and lace my fingers in his hair. His thumbs rub along my cheek bones. "You'll never know how in love with you I am," he whispers into my lips, his breath warm.

I can't stop myself from leaning the millimeter into his lips. His breath is sweet, hardly a wisp of cigarette smoke on his teeth. He squeezes me tighter to him, pulling me off my feet for an instant. I giggle as I hold myself closer to him and he smiles back. He pulls away a little bit. "So, where do you want to go? Anywhere but the park when it's raining."

I sigh and rest my forehead on his. "Mm, I like steak," I say. "Steak is good."

He chuckles. "I think we can do steak," he says. "I haven't had steak in a little while. Do you want to invite anyone else?"

"No," I breathe. "You forget sometimes that I like having friends but I don't like it that much."

He chuckles. "That's true. I'm not quite sure I understand your logic but I'm sure I will."

I sigh and scratch at the nape of his neck. "I didn't have a ton of friends growing up. I never got used to the huge sleep-overs and the gossip. The only time I've had a sleep-over was with the entire band, and Riot put it together for her birthday." I sigh again, recalling my past. "Girls just annoy me. I feel like my gender either manipulates or over exaggerates all the time. I've been known to do this too, but that's why I don't like hanging out with many people. They make mountains out of mole hills, they gossip about petty shit. I swear, sometimes I more like a guy than I am a girl."

"I'd have to disagree with that," Andy interjects. "You may not enjoy the typical teenage girl personality, but you certainly are more of a girl than a guy. You just don't share what you think are the bad traits in the female species." He chuckles. "Not to make this a hypothesis of course. But you are a girl. And trust me, I'm glad that we're at the same no bullshit level. It makes life easier."

I laugh into his throat and rest my forehead there. He's still stepping us around. For a few minutes we stay like this, but then Andy pulls away and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He glances at the time and says, "It's still only three. I think I have time to get your present before dinner."

I step off of his toes. "Okay. That's fine."

He pulls me back into him by my hips and kisses me. "I'll be back in about an hour, hour and a half. No dressing up until I come back."

I laugh. "Okay." I peck his lips. "I love you," I say.

He returns both gestures. He grabs his keys and bids me one more goodbye before taking his car and leaving.

As I walk up the steps, I try to think about what he would have to pick up that we've talked about before, but I come up short several times.

As predicted, Andy returns home roughly an hour and a half later. "Baby Doll, come down here right now!" he shouts.

I raise a brow as I quickly stand up and take quick steps down the stairs. "What happened?" I ask, but I'm answered as I see him smiling and holding... Dogs!

"Andy!" I say, rushing now. My hands instantly reach for the puppies in his arms, their young faces glancing at me curiously. They're at least three months old, so they're not exactly small, but they're not huge. And they're boxers! My favourite!

We sit down on the steps and I start petting them and cuddling them. "Andy, this is so perfect!" I say. It makes sense. We've been talking about me wanting a pet or two around when he isn't here and now we have them! One is a boy and the other is a girl. The boy is straight brown with a black muzzle and black around his eyes. The girl is brown also with white around her eyes and in a line over her forehead, and also around her paws. The white around her paws make her look like she's wearing socks.

"We have to call her Socks," I say. "She looks like she's wearing socks!"

He laughs. "Okay. What about this little guy?" He pulls the boy onto his lap and pets behind his ears.

"I don't know," I answer. "What do you think?"

Andy glances at me as he ponders. "Let's call him Batdog," he says, laughing.

I chuckle. "Seriously?"

"No," he muses. "Let's call him... I don't know."

I laugh as I think of a name. "Zero," I say.

Andy's eyebrow arches. "Why Zero?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. " 'Cause my emo self loves the movie 'Nightmare Before Christmas,' " I answer.

He shrugs. "I like it. Let's call him Zero."

I shrug back. "Okay. I don't mind the name."

Andy nuzzles into Zero's head. "Mm, I was hoping for cats but..." He shoots a teasing glance at me.

I actually roll my eyes. "Cats are the spawns of Satan," I say. "They act all cute until you piss them off. Then they get all bitchy and-" I make an attempt at that stupid hiss-whine that they do and miserably fail.

He laughs and rests his head against the wall. "You met Minxy when we visited my family in Ohio," he points out. "She nuzzled with you and everything."

"Yeah, she wanted to get me on her good side so she could steal all your kisses right out of you," I say, scooting down a step and kissing him once. "Besides, when these guys get big they can protect us if someone invades our home. Cats would just hiss."

"And claw their eyes out," he says.

"Exactly! Dogs will just bite them and intimidate them! Not permanently blind them!" I say, laughing. I pick up Sock's paws and kiss her nuzzle. "Either way, thank you," I say, kissing him again. "I know I'm gonna' love these little guys."

He smiles at both of them as Zero starts to snore in his arms. "Yeah. Definitely." He clears his throat. "I made a reservation at the restaurant for six, so we have about an hour before we have to leave to make the reservation. It isn't too far away, fortunately, but it's really good. Not super fancy either, but nice."

"Mm-kay," I say, yawning as to pretend that doesn't intrigue me. I've never really been to a nice restaurant. Growing up in Sleepy Hollow, you don't see the need. I scoot Zero off of Andy's lap so I can slide my legs over his and put Zero back tucked into a me and Andy corner as I lean into Andy's lips. He kisses me softly and holds my waist, and we remain like that for an entire minute. "I love you," I say. "This is perfect. Really."

"Good," he says, smiling. "I got the two because they're siblings, and they were too cute to break apart."

"I understand," I say, petting both of them. "They made a great present." I peck his lips. "And you get a little present later too." I smile in my most flirty way.

He chuckles and looks down. "And it isn't even my birthday," he says.

I laugh and kiss his cheek. "Riot got me lingerie because she's Riot," I say. I'm probably gonna' change into it when I get dressed again."

"Ooh," he says, his voice slipping lower. Fuck, the growl...

"I'll just have to imagine you in it all night," he says. "Until I rip it off 'cause my goal is to get it on the floor."

I blush, my blood heating my nose and cheek bones as I lightly push his arm. "Andy," I teasingly scold. I kiss his cheek before I stand up. "I think I'll start getting ready now. Traffic is gonna' be worse with the rain."

"That's true," he says. "I didn't account for that. I'll make arrangements for the puppies for while we're out, and then we can start setting all their stuff up tomorrow."

"Mm-kay." I stretch my arms out. "I'll be ready in about half an hour," I say, walking up the stairs.

I work slightly quickly. I find one of my favourite little black dresses and black thigh-highs, and I decide on my Creepers just so it looks more like me. It's raining outside, so I grab a regular cropped leather jacket but don't put it on yet. I change into the clothes, along with my new lingerie that's black and lacy, and then I start making myself smell good and perfecting little details. I make sure the wings of my eyeliner are sharp as can be and that my teeth are white and minty. My skin is covered in lotion that simultaneously perfumes me so I'm checked for both.

I look appropriate, right? I mean, he did say it wasn't fancy it was just nice, so this works, right? It's a dress that isn't risque or anything. The thigh-highs are a little suggestive, and the shoes are obviously not super classy, but again he didn't say it was high-end super fancy food. I should be fine.

When I'm done with everything it's been twenty minutes, so I grab my leather jacket, my phone, and my wallet before heading back down the stairs.

Andy's leaning against the counter when I get downstairs. He's watching the pups eat and making sure they're not scrambling around each other. I clear my throat at the entrance to the kitchen and get his attention, and immediately his eyes widen. "Baby Doll," he mutters.

I suddenly become very self conscious. Does he not like what I'm wearing? I mean, I look good as hell so I'm not gonna' change for that, but, like, maybe it's not appropriate for the restaurant? "Do you not like what I'm wearing? I can change if you-"

"No, no, no," he says, standing straight. "It's just... You look really good."

"Oh." I tilt my head down so he doesn't see me blushing. "Thank you."

He steps forward and cups my chin in his fingers, lifting my head. "Don't hide your blush, beautiful."

I wrap my arms around his neck because he's the only one who could make me believe his words. He kisses my hair as his arms wrap around me like a corset. "How did God ever find me worthy?" he whispers, reminding me of earlier poetic promises.

I pull away enough to kiss him. His lips meet mine just as eager and he squeezes me in his hold. When we pull away we lock eyes. "I love you," leaves my lips but also his, and I just giggle at it while he smiles. He pecks my lips. "Alright, well let's go, Baby Doll."

"What about the dogs?" I ask.

"I've put all the edible and harmful things up so they can't get to them. They'll be fine with their food dishes and beds," he says.

"Mm-kay." I shake out my hair as he steps in front of me and grabs his own leather jacket from the dining room table's chairs. We go to the car and deal with typical but worse L.A. traffic, Alkaline Trio and AFI as our soundtrack.

When we get to the restaurant, Andy gets out quickly and runs around to get the door for me because he's a gentleman. I kiss his cheek as we walk through the no longer raining but wet parking lot to the entrance, where he holds the door open for me and we step inside the heated facility.

Upon entrance, there's a podium with a very professional-looking man standing behind it. He smiles at us as we walk closer. "Welcome. Reservation?"

Andy's hands find my shoulders, which I instantly and awkwardly try to keep my cool because I don't like people touching my shoulders, and he says, "Dennis Westower."

I snicker and hide my lips with my hand. Andy's hands pull away and he wraps an arm around me. I try to contain myself as the host gives us a strange look but grabs two menus. "Right this way," he says, leading us to the dimly lit dining rooms. The restaurant isn't incredibly busy, but there are a few couples scattered around in various spots, peculiarly distant from other customers. We follow in the same fashion, being seated several tables away from another couple.

As the host sets down menus and starts asking us about wine, Andy takes my jacket off of my shoulders and sets it on my chair, then pushes my seat in when I sit. I smile at his polite gentleman side that he's always had. When he sits, he asks for some bottle of wine I've never heard of, takes off his jacket, and thanks the host as he walks away.

"Andy, this place is really nice," I say, glancing around. I suddenly feel under-dressed as I look at people wearing suits and nicer dresses around me, all drinking wine that I've never heard of or champagne that tastes like liquid stars. I start feeling a little anxious because of it, and although nobody's eyes are really on us I feel like when I glance away everyone will look at us strangely because of the way we look. I don't mind being judged, but I've never been one to enjoy feeling out of place.

Andy reaches across the table and grabs my hand. "Baby Doll, it's just another restaurant," he says. "So it's a little higher end. I wanted to treat you tonight. Is that such a crime?"

I sigh, the two sides of my head gearing up. I try to stop them before they start and think for myself. "I've never been to a place like this, Andy," I calmly remind him, although inside my nerves are shaking. "Every meal I've ever had outside of my home has been fast food, diners, or holes in the wall. I've never been to a nice restaurant." My feet twist a little just to move and I become self-conscious of my shoes. Have people been staring at the super not classy shoes? I tuck them underneath me.

He sighs. "If you want to go somewhere else we can. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

I shake my head and try to keep my focus on the table and on him. He looks really nice and he wanted to take me somewhere nice as a treat. That's one of the sweetest things he's ever done and I honestly appreciate it. "No," I say, shaking my head. "I want to be here. I just feel a little out of place here."

He smiles and squeezes my hand. "I guess I'll have to take you to nicer places more often to get you used to it then."

I chuckle and offer a smile, giving up on worrying and letting myself go. The host comes back with our wine in a bottle and two glasses and tells us our waiter will be will us shortly. Andy pours us both some and offers a toast. "To nineteen more beautiful years," he says, and our glasses clink and we take a sip.

The wine is amazing. I've never had red wine like this before. Granted, the wine I've had has been from grocery stores and BevMo at best but this... It's divine.

I flip open my menu as Andy opens his. My eyes find a random entree and I have to hold in my gasp. Fifty dollars for a steak? Holy shit! As I scan the rest of the pages, it doesn't get much better. Their cheapest steak is twenty-seven dollars and it's a six ounce Sirloin. Even their pastas and seafood aren't much better.

"What sounds good, Baby Doll?" Andy asks, shooting a glance up at me.

I flusterdly collect my response. "Sirloin," I manage.

His eyebrow raises and he pulls his head up to look at me. I shrink under his questioning and all-knowing gaze.

"You were just saying the other day how often you eat Sirloin and how you wish places had better steaks," he says.

That was before I realized the better steaks were this expensive.

I clear my throat. "I'm sure their sirloin here will be better," I say meekly.

Andy sighs and closes his menu. "Honey, if you're intimidated by the prices, don't worry about it."

I still feel weird buying a fifty dollar steak. Steak can't be that good, can it?

My thoughts are broken as our waiter appears. He's in his mid-twenties and looks as professional as the host earlier. "Hi, my name is Rick and I'll be your service tonight. Have we decided what we're going to have?" He looks over at me and smiles, but the smile is a little too cheeky.

"We're gonna' need another minute," Andy answers.

"Take your time," he says, walking away. I shake myself out of his weird and lingering gaze and look back at Andy.

Andy is glancing at his menu again before he looks up at me. "Like I said, if you don't want to eat here then we'll-"

"No, I want to eat here," I say, cutting him off. I don't want him to feel like I'm shooting this idea down. He wanted to treat me, I just didn't realize it would be this big of a treat. I take a deep breath and joke, easing the tension and putting a sense of finality to the discussion. "You said you were gonna' treat me, so I expect the works."

He smiles, pleased that I've loosened up, and looks at his menu again. He tells me about a steak he gets here all the time that I would love and that their tomato soup is to die for. When Rick comes back those are the two things I order along with a glance that pointedly says "Stop." He takes our menus and shoots me a shot down puppy-eyes look but my eyes are all Andy's and his are all mine.

"So why'd you decide to come here in the first place?" I inquire.

He shrugs and sips his wine. "Heard about this place from somewhere. Actually, I think the label took us here for our signing party. Trust me, when I was twenty I was kinda' put off by the prices too. But it's so worth it."

I take another sip of my wine. "Maybe it's just 'cause I'm less experienced."

"That's totally it," he jokes. "Although, in many cases you fit right in."

"Like with what?" I ask.

"Drinking," he teases, watching me sip on the wine. He laughs it off. "I don't know. A lot of things. You're really mature for your age. I told you that when we started dating."

"That seems not-so-long ago," I say. "But it was over a year ago."

"I know," he says, reaching across the table for my hand again. I smile as he takes it and he rubs his thumbs across my knuckles. "But let me tell you, it's been a good year."

I smile and kiss his hand. He kisses mine, but lets it go as the waiter brings back our soup. He shoots another flirtatious smile at me as he walks away.

Andy grumbles as he unfolds his silverware and rests the napkin on his lap. "Friendly waiter," he mumbles.

I chuckle as I unfold my napkin too and rub his foot under the table. "Babe," I say. "Why would I notice how friendly he is? My best friend is sitting right in front of me."

He smiles and rubs my foot back. I collect the soup in my soup and drink it. Holy fuck that's good. "Geez," I say.

"I told you, the tomato soup here is to die for," he says. "It has bacon and stuff in it and it's so good."

"It's amazing," I say, sipping it again.

The night is shared like that. We eat the amazing food and have amazing conversations and laugh and conservatively drink the amazing wine. The food here really is worth the money, or most of it (I'm still not completely content on forty-five dollars for a steak), but the atmosphere and the fact that I've had such a great night with Andy really pulls it together. We even sneak pictures of each other when we aren't paying attention, but while I was being playful Andy posts his picture of me to Twitter with a caption about me being the most beautiful girl he knows or something. When we're done it only takes the waiter a minute or two to come back, and when he does Andy starts collecting his money and separating two bills as a tip. It's only then that the waiter actually speaks to me, seeing that we're close to leaving.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he says. "Can I ask you just one question? And then I'll leave you alone?"

I raise a brow. "You can't just go away?"

"Can you just answer one question, please." His eyes aren't particularly needy but he does want me to answer.

I roll my eyes. "What?" I ask.

"Are you a sapiosexual?"

"What?" I almost spit out. "What the hell is that?"

"Buddy, I'd get outta' here," Andy says. I can hear the protective growl in his throat.

"Sapiosexuals are people attracted to those with intelligence. Would you consider yourself a sapiosexual?"

I blink my eyes hard at the waiter. "Probably. I can clearly see that we aren't compatible, though, seeing as how you obviously are not bright enough to take a hint, or are just too stupid to think about the repercussions of your actions. You're lucky I don't call your manager over here just to make your stupidity the restaurant's business. Clearly, you cannot use logic to string together what happened tonight, but I'm on a date with my boyfriend, the man that I'm in love with to the moon and back, although I probably shouldn't use that metaphor because you probably don't even know what a metaphor is. So thank you for interest, but if you could kindly fuck off now that would be great."

Jesus, Niki, calm down. I haven't let go on somebody like that in a while.

The waiter had gone very quickly from white as a sheet to redder than a lobster. He flusteredly bids us a good evening and walks away. I stand and grab the tip Andy would have left for him, grabbing my jacket and pulling it on. "Let's go," I say, handing it to him.

Andy has a look of intrigue and slight pride in his eyes. As he stuffs the money into his pocket and starts pulling on his jacket, he says, "Niki, I never knew you could get that sassy."

"You should see me when I'm actually mad," I say, pulling my hair out from my jacket. "Let's go."

Andy reaches his hand out for mine and I take it. "I like the sass. Let's me know I got a strong girl who can take care of herself when I'm not around to protect her."

I laugh and pull his arm around my waist, resting against his shoulder. "I'm not completely helpless without you."

He kisses my head as we begin walking out. The cool air hits my face like a brick wall, and it's a nice change from the heated restaurant until I realize that the wall isn't made out of air- it's made out of water. Andy shields me as he jogs us to the passenger side of the car and opens the door. I quickly slide in and shut the door, waiting as Andy runs around and quickly gets in. "I've never seen it rain like this in L.A.," he says.

"Neither have I, and I've been living here my whole life," I say, shaking out my hair. I suddenly hear a thunder clap in the distance and grow. "Fantastic," I say.

Andy looks over at me. He leans over the console and kisses me before he turns on the car and straps us in. He flips through the stereo in his car until he finds the CD for the album "Famous Monsters". He blares it as he backs out, turns the windshield wipers on full blast, and starts driving us as quickly home as he can do safely. The music is incredibly loud, but as we drive past where I see all of the lightning I don't hear one clap of thunder. The car shakes slightly, but again the music is too loud to hear the immense sound of the thunder. We get home quicker than the drive to get there took, but when we pull up to the neighborhood, the lights are all out. We realize that the thunderstorm must've taken out the power as we pull into our driveway, so Andy finds the house key before we both get out and run to the porch. When we get inside, everything is indeed very dark, and as I shine the flashlight from my phone around the floor I see the puppies running and skipping around us, although Zero stops very suddenly. He's shaking and whimpering, so I pick him up and hold him.

"He's just like you," Andy says. "He doesn't like thunder storms either."

"You poor baby," I say, kissing his floppy muzzle. I kiss his ears as I look around. "There's candles under our sink in the kitchen. Those are all the Jesus candles."

Andy chuckles once and goes to the kitchen sink, stealing my phone to light his way. I look around the kitchen as he finds all of them and see that the dogs were really good and didn't use the bathroom inside the house. I find that strange, but Andy may have gotten them potty-trained. They are four months, so it's very possible.

I grab Socks and their beds as best as I can as Andy shuts the cabinets with his foot and holds my iPhone in his teeth. We go upstairs and set the candles on our nightstand, their beds by the foot of ours, and them on the ground. Zero instantly rushes towards our bed and rests on his.

Andy uses the flashlight to illuminate the candles as he pulls his lighter out, then he starts lighting them. There's six collectively and they're all relatively new, so it isn't hard. When they're lit up, Andy picks up two and carries one to the bathroom and the other to the dresser on the other side of the room.

I pull my jacket off and hang it up again, which is only slightly difficult because I have to find the hanger and hang it up again, and across the room Andy is taking off his shoes. He smiles at me before walking to the dresser.

I walk over to Andy. "Can I get help with the buttons?" I ask, turning and lifting my hair.

He clears his throat. "Yeah, of course." As he starts to undo the buttons, he asks, "How did you get this dress on?"

"I just pulled it over my head," I answer.

I can feel Andy's fingers lingering along my back. "Did you have a good birthday?" he murmurs.

"Of course," I answer. "I spent it with you, didn't I?"

He kisses the back of my head in reply.

When they're all unbuttoned, I pull my arms out of the sleeves and push it down to the floor. I know that Andy's watching me and that's what makes it fun. When I stand again with my dress in hand I glance at him, say a quick "thanks", and take my dress to our laundry hamper.

Andy doesn't let me get away easily. When the dress leaves my grasp I'm already turned around and pushed against the wall next to the closet door and his lips are on mine. Andy pulls off his jacket, desperation shown in the action. I tug at the buttons on his shirt, prevailing with only one button undone and one popping off onto the floor. My fingers fumble for the remaining ones.

"Niki," Andy murmurs, his lips moving to the highest crook of my neck.

I can't help but cry out when he traces my jaw with his lips. The movements and our actions are making me hypersensitive and I'm begging for his touch. His hands pull at his shirt now, ripping the last several buttons. I'm the one who pushes it off his shoulders and to the floor, and when it's off Andy's arms scoop me up, holding me closer. I have nowhere to go with the wall behind me, so it's not difficult to keep me. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest as he kisses me again, this time a little slower.

I look up at him when our lips pull away, and without thinking I instantly bite my lip. He smiles and rubs his thumb over my chin, and when I realize I have I let it go. His thumb traces over my lips before he leans down and kisses me again. His knees bend until his hands find my thighs and I put my arms around his neck. He lifts me up and against the wall so we're steadier, and once I've giggled and he's smiled and we're settled, he carries me over to the bed and sets me down.

The entire night is spent reveling in one another. There is passion and roughness and love and gentleness. It's clearly going to be an all-nighter, at least for me, since we were nearing two AM and neither of us were tired. Between each time we hold each other and talk about everything, which has always been one of my favourite parts of our relationship. We talk about everything and are not afraid to go into things we wouldn't with other people. He is my best friend in the world, and without him I am nothing.

We lay together in bed, almost sweating. It's cool in the house, mainly because of the house's old structure, so although we work up a sweat the temperature drops it back down. I'm actually on my back while he is curled up to me, his arms around my waist and his head on top of mine. His breathing is in sync with mine and his skin is like threaded gold. It's hard not to fall in love with him all over again in moments like these.

"I don't think it's your birthday anymore," he murmurs.

I lean away just enough to grab my phone, which is dying, and check the time. I check it and see I had estimated correctly. "Two ten. Not anymore."

He sighs and breathes in my hair. "Baby Doll," he coos.

"Hmm?"

"I love you," he says, kissing my temple.

"I love you too." I turn my face so it's tucked into his neck.

"Mm, your breath tickles," he says.

"I'm sorry," I say, moving.

"No, it's nice," he says. "I can feel exactly how you breathe. Every little detail and movement. I can feel you living."

I hum slightly. "That's 'cause my life force is laying next to me."

Instantly he replies, "You have a perfect way of speaking." He shifts. "You always know what to say, and you always say the plainest things in the best way. It's better than being poetic. It's relatable. It isn't stanzas and iambic pentameter. It's the security of something so reliable but so perfect."

"But everyone can speak plainly," I say. "Only you can make words explain the importance of emotions. Sometimes the English language fails us, but you know exactly how to make it work."

"Mm, I love it when you talk sweet to me," he says, sitting up and pecking my lips. His eyes are half open as he looks at me. He starts kissing me everywhere on my face. "I'm with such a beautiful," -kiss, "-sweet," - kiss, "-intelligent," -kiss, "-perfect girl." He pecks my lips once, twice, and one long one. "Can I keep you here forever? I don't want to leave this bedroom ever again if I can feel like this always. I can't help but fall in love with you all over again whenever we're this close. You're perfect."

"As long as you're ready to face the consequences of your actions," I say. I push a piece of a raven's feather-like hair away from his face.

"For you? Anything," he murmurs, his lips and breath touching my neck. His nose traces along my jawline and up to my ear where he whispers that he loves me. I shiver and essentially melt into him, turning onto my side just so he'll hold me. He does, his long, tattooed arms lacing around me like a corset and holding me close. He rests his chin on my head.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to open up," Andy says after a moment.

I don't dare say anything, not willing to allow the opportunity to slip from my grasps. Instead I kiss over his heart, telling him I'm here.

"It's just... Sometimes I feel like what I might say might drive you away some how. Like you'll find some facet of my existence that won't be good enough. In all honesty, I think that's why Juliet and I didn't work..." It takes him a deep breath to continue, and I feel his chest tightening. "I didn't open myself up to her as much as I had with you in six months. That's not to say that I'm still thinking about her, so please don't think that."

I move to his collar bone and kiss, absorbing information and listening for more.

"She left me so... So vulnerable, y'know? She'd dug a hole in my chest and torn my heart to pieces. I tried putting the pieces together when we met, but when you saw that I didn't have all the pieces you gave me some of yours." He sighs and strokes my hair. "It's like you weren't afraid of anything. You scribbled out that tattoo as if it were your own. You wanted me to forget about her. You wanted to be the one to sew up my chest, and you were. It's like I had to fall in love with you because parts of it already belonged to you. Not had like I didn't want to but..."

"I understand," I murmur, kissing his heart again.

He sighs and kisses my head. "I know something I say one day will startle you. It'll evoke an emotion I haven't evoked yet and ruin everything."

I hold him closer. "Why would it?" I ask. "You've already made me feel everything I've already felt, and things I haven't felt before." He moves so we're looking at each other from the pillow. "There's nothing you could tell me that would drive me away. I know you aren't perfect, but neither am I. I have secrets and scars that I'm not proud of and I am a sick person." I glance away. "You're the only person who's made me feel like I can get better."

Andy's hands pull my closer by my waist, and he scoots closer too. He kisses me tenderly, his lips a spark and mine gasoline.

"Can I tell you something?" he whispers.

I nod. "Of course."

"I used to think that having sex was opening yourself up to someone," he says slowly, "but it wasn't. It was like... The girls I was with weren't like you. I'd show them a door into who I am and they'd peek into it but never entered. I thought I knew what making love was until I met you." His eyes find mine unabashedly. "You were the first person who actually went in."

It's my eyes that glance away, because I can't hold his gaze much longer without buckling. I lied to him about knowing he isn't perfect, because he is. And now he's being so open, and I'm not really. Like him, I'm hard to crack too. But I want to. I really do.

"I guess it makes sense why we're so close," I say. "It's hard for me to really open up like you did."

"Please do," he murmurs, his forehead back on mine. "I promise I'll still be here when you want to stop." He squeezes me.

I pull away and sit up, even though we were so close when he opened his door again. I hold the sheet up to my chest, trying not to feel so exposed. He's instantly sits up also, a reassuring arm around my waist and two chapped lips against my shoulder. I sigh as I try to find the first words that want to slip under the crack in my door. I start with a joke, because that's how I ease into everything. "Well, you're the first person I've actually enjoyed having sex with, and you're one of two."

He smiles slightly and moves his nose to my hair.

"You're so much different than Adam," I say. "I hate comparing you to Adam, but it's hard not to because he's the only other guy I've been with. But you're so much better." I lean into him, and he wraps his arms around me. "With Adam it was just... kissing my best friend. That's what we were. Best friends who kissed. And with you it's like..." I try to find my words. "With you there's passion. I felt your spark and added my gasoline to get to where we are right now. And then you became my best friend. You were the polar opposite. Where he was safe and perpetual, you're out there and... and okay with that. You don't keep your head down if someone looks at us strangely. You don't care. You speak up. You do what I had to teach myself to do."

Andy kisses my head, another reassurance that I'm still here.

"I look back on the years that I knew Adam and just... Those were my lowest years. Most of my years, really. So much bad shit happened with him and he just... He let it. My parents kept me in line and my depression got worse and my anxiety towards men just... Being with you is the only time I've ever not been afraid to be assertive with a man because I know you'll be there to protect me."

Andy's thumb, which had been rubbing my side, stops. His voice is gravel against my hair. "Your anxiety with men?" His arms have gotten a little tighter.

I shift, remembering why I don't like opening up. Vulnerability is killer. "Yeah," I say, glancing down at the "P" tattooed on his thumb and the red, raised skin that spells out "Dragonfly." Only a few more sessions to get it removed now.

"I used to get really scared being around men," I say. "If it wasn't my dad or my boyfriend I didn't trust them." I glance to the wall. "Men were intimidating."

"Do I intimidate you?" he asks.

"Sometimes," I say quietly. "Only twice, really. One of them doesn't really count."

"What do you mean?" he urges.

I sigh. "The second time I met you was after a show in the back alley. You were drunk as hell and kept asking me to kiss you so my lipstick would rub off and make your girlfriend jealous. You can be a little intimidating when you're drunk and angry..."

Andy moves and puts his cheek against mine. "That was juvenile of me. I'm sorry. What was the other time?"

I look down at his hand again. "The only time we've ever yelled at each other," I whisper, not liking the memory it brings.

I don't hear a response come from Andy, only feel him grow a little tense at my mentioning. His voice is soft as he speaks lowly and into my ear. "I'm sorry, Baby Doll." He nuzzles me and holds me closer. "I don't ever want you to feel intimidated by me. You know I'll never do anything to hurt you."

I nod, turning my head just enough to kiss his cheek. "I can't help it. I watched my dad abuse my mom. It's in my code." I sigh. "It gets better, though. Ever since I met you, really met you, I've never had a problem with men."

"Except for that one guy at the club," Andy reminds me.

"Ugh, that guy couldn't intimidate a puppy," I say. "He was too much of a douche bag to actually scare me."

I get another chuckle out of Andy, but he quickly stops and readjusts with me. "Tell me something else that no one knows. Let me go further."

I shut my eyes against him. "Ask me. I'll tell you anything."

He hums against my forehead and squeezes me, laying back. I curl up to him. "Tell me why you love me," he decides.

"Holy shit," I breathe. "Thanks for that."

"For what?" he asks, laughing.

"For that really big question! There's a million things that I love you for," I say, turning onto my stomach.

He puts an arm behind his head and pushes a piece of hair out of my face. "Well, tell me every single one. Make me fall in love with you over and over again."

"It'll take so long," I say.

"Please, baby," he whines.

I sigh and sit up, resting on his chest. "Fine. Where should I start? Um..." I try to think of what to say as I look at him watching me. "First of all, your eyes are never the same colour twice. They're a million different blues, all of which portray your emotions perfectly. I can always tell what you're feeling."

He strokes my hair behind me. "What am I feeling right now?" he asks, looking up at me.

I sit up and kiss him, getting a better look at his eyes. "Curious and adoring," I say.

He rolls his eyes and smiles. "You assume."

"Am I wrong?" I tease.

He looks back at me, his eyes definitely adoring now. "No," he says, scratching at the back of my neck.

I purr and lay my cheek over his heart. "I love how absolutely perfect you are for me aesthetically. I'm weird and like tall, lanky guys with long hair and tattoos and piercings and scars and hardly any body hair and long arms with visible veins and you fit that description like a glove."

"Part of that is just for you," he says. "I shave my body hair and keep my hair long for you."

"I love that you do stupid things like that just to make me happy," I say. "It's a preference and you make it a necessary thing."

"Well, you keep your hair long for me. And you shave your arms and legs and et cetera in my best interest, so. It's only fair that I do the same in a way."

I roll my eyes and curl into him. He slides his arms around my waist and hums contently. I continue. "I love your voice. It makes me smile every time I hear it and it's low and gravelly and perfect. I feel like it wraps around me a blanket sometimes. And you can sing and it makes me swoon."

Andy stays silent but kisses my head.

"I love how you listen to me rant about stupid shit sometimes. I say some stupid things sometimes."

"No you don't. You may have an uneducated opinion sometimes but everyone has those."

I curl up. "I love that you, despite dropping out of high school, are one of the smartest and most successful people I know. You proved that a high school diploma isn't necessary to be successful."

Once again he doesn't speak and instead holds me closer.

"I love how you hold me closer when you don't want to talk," I say. "You may not want to talk but you keep me around for when you do."

"You make me feel better," he murmurs. "You always do."

"I love it when your murmur. You sound amazing when you murmur."

Andy yawns. "Keep talking," he whispers.

"I like your tattoos," I say. "Some of them are silly, like the 'fuck fun' you have with Matt or the 'FP' on your thumbs, but how they all have meaning. I like that you aren't afraid to get me tattooed on your skin."

"That's 'cause I'm not letting go of you ever," he says.

My heart can't help but skip a beat. "I love the way you speak to me. How you know exactly what to say exactly when to say."

"That's one of my favourite things about you," he muses.

And suddenly, we hear a surge of power. I sit up and see lights coming from the neighbor's house next door, and then the fan above our heads turns on. We have the electricity back.

I look back at Andy, who's now resting his head against his hand on his elbow. I look at the fan again. "It's gonna' get colder in here with the fan on."

Andy sits up. "Then we should generate our own heat," he murmurs against my shoulder.

As corny and bad as the line is, I can't help but smile at him as I look at him. He smiles back and leans into my lips, pulling me back to the sheets below. Maybe if we make love until the morning, my birthday will last forever.