Cliché (Andy Biersack)

Freedom

"You know what the best kind of friend is?" Andy asked me.

"No, tell me," I said.

"Friends with benefits," he smirked.

"Keep dreaming, lover boy," I rolled my eyes.

"I already do," he winked.

"Does your smugness have an off button?" I asked him, poking him in the side. Judging by the way he jumped up at that, I'd say he was probably as ticklish as I was.

"Nope, around you I'm always turned on," he smirked.

"You are absolutely unbelievable," I groaned.

"Unbelievably irresistible, right?"

"You really are your own biggest fan, huh?"

"You have no idea, baby."

"Do you also happen to be the president of your Fanclub?" I asked.

"No, I'll leave that job to you."

"As if," I scoffed.

"Sure, keep pretending like you're not totally obsessed with me. Let's not forget about your voice message, and those paintings, and that sex dream you had about me..."

"I never said it was a sex dream," I crossed my arms over my chest. He didn't need to know he was right.

"Oh please, Sophie. Have you seen me? I think we both know you dream about seeing me naked," he drawled, "and anyway, I saw the way you were checking me out this morning."

"I was not!"

"Oh, but you were."

"Nuh-uh."

"Uh-uh," he mimicked my childish tone.

"You know what, Andrew, I think you're just projecting. You keep talking about us having sex and doing naughty things... So, tell me, are all your wet dreams about me, or just the really spicy ones?" I asked, whispering the last part in his ear. If he got to do this to me all the time, then why shouldn't I repay the favour.

"Oh, just the spiciest, Miss Williams. Would you like me to describe them to you?" He said, turning to face me; our noses almost touching. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat.

"Hmm, Sophie? Do you want me to tell you about my dreams?" He asked, sliding his fingers up and down the side of my neck.

"Andy..." I whispered.

"Yes, Sophie?" He asked equally quietly.

Before I could reply, my stomach gurgled, betraying my hunger.

"Come on," he said, standing up and offering his hand again, "let's eat."

I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me up a bit more gently than the last time.

We were still standing pretty close when I got up and he leaned in to whisper: "don't think you're off the hook, Miss Williams. We'll continue this conversation in the evening."

Then he moved away like nothing out of the ordinary happened, and we went back to the house. Everyone was sitting around the table, playing cards, and drinking cocktails. Mom greeted us like nothing happened two hours ago. I apologized to Andrew's mom for skipping lunch, and she said it was okay. The food was waiting for us in the kitchen. I took mine to the upstairs terrace. To my surprise, Andrew joined me.

We ate in silence. Our parents were quite loud downstairs, and we could hear them talking about us.

"Ah, to be young and in love again," my mom said.