Cliché (Andy Biersack)

My Side

"Look, dude, your apartment is obviously too small for both of us," Andy said when we were having lunch on Valentine's.

"What happened to 'it doesn't matter that it isn't much because it's your space, babe'?" I asked him, scoffing.

"I don't recall saying that," he averted his gaze.

"Of course, you don't," I rolled my eyes, chuckling.

"Let's be rational, Soph... Your apartment is kinda small. And I need a place that can not only house me but also my studio. Which, rationally, your place cannot. Not to mention that you're just a tenant at your place. I actually own my apartment."

"Does that make you feel superior, Andrew?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Maybe," he shrugged innocently.

"Ugh, fine, you're right. My place is way too small. But your place isn't big enough for the two of us. Especially, when your parents visit next time. We can't both just stay over at Jake's," I said matter-of-factly.

"That's also a good point, babe. Well, should we just buy a house then?" He asked.

"I don't know... Maybe? But where? I need it to be somewhere near my studio and my work."

"Did you get a chance to check out the listings I sent you?" He asked and I let the look of guilt on my face answer his question.

"Of course, you didn't, why am I even asking?" He laughed. He pulled out his phone and when he found what he was looking for, he showed me his screen. I took the phone out of his hand and scrolled through the photos. It was one of those classic white picket-fence kind of houses. It had a backyard with a pond and a huge, old oak tree. I smiled at the tree, imagining Andy building a tree house for our future kids. I wonder if he even knows how to do that? I'll ask him later, I guess. Anyway, back to the house. It had a basement, two floors and an attic. The kitchen was pretty big, and it opened into the dining room space. The only 'barrier' between the two rooms, was a kitchen island. It also had a spacious living room, two toilets and two bathrooms. But what sold it to me, were the four bedrooms and a guest room. We could turn two of the bedrooms into our separate studios, and that way, I wouldn't have to leave the house when I wanted to paint. Because if we did that, it wouldn't matter that the house is a 25-minute drive away from my current atelier. It was closer to Wayne&Co. than my current flat.

"You've been quiet for a while..." Andy nudged me.

"I love it, Andy. It's really perfect. But I'm afraid to look at the price. Cause it can't be of the cheaper variety..." I told him, slightly frowning.

"I'm glad you like it because I kind of already made the downpayment...," he smiled awkwardly, "surprise!"

"You did what?" I asked. Surely, I heard him wrong, right?

"The house is ours. Surprise!"

"Not that I don't appreciate it and it really is on my top five Valentine's gifts list, but what the hell were you thinking, babe? What if I totally hated the house? What if I kept insisting on wanting to stay at the apartment I have now? Do you realise how many variables there are that could have made this whole house thing go totally awry?" I asked, totally flabbergasted at his spontaneity.

"But you didn't hate it, nor did you insist on wanting to stay at your place. I pride myself on knowing you well, my dearest, and therefore, I knew in my heart of hearts that you would love the house as much as I did, the first time I saw it. I would bet my right arm that you can imagine us building our future kids a treehouse up in that oak's crown. It probably even crossed your mind whether I knew how to. Don't give me that look, babe. I am telling you that I know you, inside and out. And to answer your question, yes, I do know how to build a treehouse. Not only did my dad and I build one when I was a kid, but I am also pretty skilled with my hands," he winked at that last part.