In His Light (Andy Biersack)

Chapter One(Murey, meet Andy)

Chapter One

(Murey, meet Andy)

I glided up and down the aisles, eyeing the million of candy bars that gleamed with the containment of chocolate and dripped with the notice of caramel.
My hand hovered above the bar labeled "Cocoa Caramel Melt", immediately dropping with the sound of two bodies thudding onto the floor. The clerk's expression rushed with fear, neither one of us brave enough to come between the two brawlers.
Surprisingly we were the only two in the Gas station, other than the two maniacs on the ground in front of the next aisle of snack goods. My lungs were screaming in fear with each panicked breath, yet I still rounded the corner to see the fight.
I hadn't realized how horrible and idiotic this decision was, until I reached them. They were on the ground, one clearly larger and more built on the top. I would never forget the revolting and unearthly sound of flesh pounding flesh.
I covered my mouth, shock finally reaching the senses in my body. I watched, as the bigger one on top pulled up a bit, refusing to punch the poor guy underneath again. My heart shattered when the one on the bottom saw me.
His nose was obviously totalled, the side of his head busted open. Blood covered his face in a gruesome mess, his thick black hair sticking out a few places from it. He smiled at me, my eyes growing with a ghost like remembrance.
"Hey there." He spoke, his voice was full of confidence.
I felt my cheeks blush, watching him clench the guys shirt with his fists. He popped his mouth, busting his lips and then picked him up and walked him out the building again.
"Call the cops!" I screamed at the clerk.
She hurried and dialed the number, as I slowly crept out to watch the fight. I knew I've seen him before...I had to. His dark hair and pale skin, the way his body was towering and thin, yet he was so strong and fierce. The way he'd always parted his hair a little to the side, so that it could fall towards his right eye.
His teeth were dripping with blood, while he also shared a busted lip. Both of their faces were beaten up. To the point where I wouldn't doubt finding a dead person with the same look would be rare.
They continued to fight, knocking each other over with blows to the throat and stomach. Finally, an officer made his way towards them, pulling them away in rage.
Both of them were laughing, smiles splattered onto their gruesome faces. The officer was yelling at them, until for some reason he laughed too and then left. What the heck?
I hadn't realized how much I was staring until they turned and looked at me. I felt my body tremble in fear. I didn't know what came over me. I never intruded or acted out. I've never been a people person. Gah what did I do?!
They began walking, the taller one dismissing the other. My heart was racing. My head was spinning. My hands were clammy. My lungs were collapsing.
"What's your name?" He asked, his mouth curving up in a half smile.
I tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, swallowing hard.
"Murey."
He nodded and passed his tounge over his bottom lip, the crimson stain diminishing a bit. I followed him inside, feeling like I was a stray dog begging a business man for food.
"Does your father know you're out?" He asked, picking up a packet of cigarettes.
I felt insulted, but I knew at the age of eighteen I could easily pass as a fourteen year old.
"I'm eighteen." I replied.
"Oh, I'm not saying you're too young. I'm saying you're obviously one of those girls that has a cat, reads books, tends not to socialize, and snitches on the kids that do too fun of things."
My eyebrows knitted together in frustration. How was my life that obvious and why the heck was he such a jerk? I turned my gaze from my feet back to his tall figure, examining the spotted blood on his red elbow cut sweater. His hair was flowing a bit off to the side like I remember, and that's when I realized where I knew him from.
It didn't seem possible or even sane. I'd dreamt about him. I've dreamt about him every time I'd experienced a dream. He was there. My stomach churned with nauseousness. Was I going insane?
"So tell me then. Why the hell are you in a ghetto gas station, alone and probably miles away from your house?"
I shrugged, playing with the wrapper of the candy bar I had picked up.
"You're lost." He stated, his light blue eyes piercing me like a bullet.
"My car...uh, it broke down a few streets over. My phone's dead. I just-"
"You're parents are fucks and you don't want to see them right now. What happened?"
I was losing my breath to how easily he was reading me. How was he doing that? And gosh his mouth was horrible.
"I just told you." I smirked.
"No, what happened before your car broke?"
"Um...my boyfriend. We, uh, broke up." I swallowed.
"Because he wanted to do something you weren't ready for correct?"
I nodded, feeling like at any second I would pass out cold on this floor. He's from my dreams and he can read me. And not just read me, but read me like a picture book, flipping page after page, easily getting through the entire story within seconds.
"Ah, and you don't want to see your parents because you actually have a pretty great relationship with them. You feel guilty for teasing the poor kid, because you've never truly liked him. He was just there to be called a boyfriend. So really the mess is on you."
He smiled and ran his tounge over his top teeth, licking the dried blood from them. We kept walking through the aisles, him blowing my mind with how creepily he could breeze through my life story.
"Oh, and your hair." He started, picking up a strand from my cheek. My body was shaking with his touch, suddenly aching for more.
"It's this tomato red color because your best friend dared you to dye it. You got attention from guys and you secretly enjoyed it...therefore, you kept it."
I grabbed onto his thin arm, feeling his solid muscle through the fabric of his shirt.
"How are you doing that?" I hissed.
"Majored in Psychology." He laughed.
I felt my throat swell, how old was he? I shouldn't be talking to a stranger anyway. Gah, I *am* going insane.
"You can tell how someone is by how they react." He continued, fishing a candy bar from his pocket and putting it back onto the shelf.
I gasped and hit his arm. He's seriously an idiot. You'd think a college student or graduate would have grown up.
"See," he smirked. "I wasn't planning on taking this. But by the way you reacted I can tell you're so uptight if someone wanted a diamond all we'd have to do is shove a lump of coal up your ass and in a week we'd have one." "Maybe I just have morals." I replied, rolling my eyes.
"Yeah. That's exactly why you played the poor kid who dated you."
"You're a jerk."
A smile kissed his lips. I felt disgusted with myself with the flutters arriving in my stomach. My cheeks stung with a blush and I quickly turned away my gaze, at an attempt to hide it.
"I'm Andy by the way."
I tried to stifle the huge smile crawling onto my face at the mention of his name and trailed him to the cashier. He stood in front of me, the smell of dried blood and what I'm guessing him filling the air.
"So why were you fighting that guy?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Ah, Devin? We just like to fight." He replied nonchalantly.
"That's all...you just like to fight?"
"Love it." He grinned.
"You're mentally unstable aren't you."
"Aren't we all? Hah, what happened to the shy girl I'd gotten to know?" He laughed.
"She met this guy who claimed he loved getting his body tortured by a man's fist."
"Cute. I said I loved fighting."
He paid for his things and waited for me. I looked at him in question, baffled by the fact that he hadn't just left.
"You need a ride don't you?" He smirked.
My mouth opened to protest, but he quickly maneuvered towards his car. I climbed in, clicking the seat belt and thanking him and the entire mask of dried blood and injuries he was wearing.
He started the ignition, speeding off the curve and down the street. I told him where I lived, surprised he hadn't made fun of the fact that I lived in the richest neighborhood in town.
"Doesn't your nose hurt?" I asked, examining the bent and twisted bridge he was sporting.
"This is the seventh time I've broke it, sort of get used to it." He replied, his voice either tired or aggravated.
"And no, I'm not wearing contacts."
I nodded, I was going to ask that next, his eyes just seemed so brightly out of place compared to his jet black hair. So he was aggravated then. Did I do something? The rest of the ride was silent, neither one of us acknowledging each others existence.
He stopped the car in front of my tall and wide home of amber colored brick and ebony detailing around the lamps and main door. I slowly eased out, catching his eyes trace along every curve of my body.
He bit onto his lip, still inside the car as I stood outside awkwardly waiting for something I didn't know to happen.
"I'm getting your number." He stated, getting out of the car.
I gulped and returned to his gaze that hadn't left my figure. He grabbed my hand and placed a pen between my fingers. I scribbled my number down onto his wrist and stared blankly at him, my heart racing.
"You're fucking adorable when you're nervous." He chuckled, walking back to the car.
My eyes hadn't eased from their shocked expression and I knew my face must've been a shade paler. I waved goodbye, making sure he left before I pathetically walked into my house with my legs trembling.
I shut the door, knowing my parents were out at one of their dinners, and slid down against the door.
He was terrifying, mysterious, intriguing, sexy, dark, confident, and horrifically irresistible. My body felt skittish and weak, like I was a cat near water. I tried to run up the stairs, but settled for a crawl.
I went into my room, passing my back wall of pink and white poka dots,to plug in my phone. It lit up with the battery now being charged. I couldn't handle how worried I was over the millions of calls my parents must've had.
I sat onto the edge of my iron rod bed, lacing my hands through my solid white duvet of ruffles.
"Ding"
"Ding"
"Ding"
"Ding"
"Ding"
"Ding"
I sighed, knowing it wouldn't stop. I got up and clicked on my home screen, typing out a quick summary of what all had happened, leaving out Andy of course, to my parents.
"Ding"
I skimmed through my other messages and came across one titled with just a number.
"I'm picking you up tomorrow. Wear something nice."
My fingers were shaking, as sweat formed on my palms and forehead. I felt nauseous. I shouldn't have talked to him. I can't do this. I can't continue this act from tonight. I can't actually talk to people, especially Andy.
I pulled my hair from my face and darted to my toilet, hurling my brains out. I fell down against my tub, my phone on the clean white tile of my floor.
I felt tears brimming in my eyes. I couldn't do this. I just couldn't. I forced myself to text back, just asking his age. "24" He replied.
I covered my face with my hands. My parents were going to kill me. No, they were going to behead me so my father could hang it in his ranch in town. I dialed Lilly's number in my phone, my body trembling weakly. "What's up babe?" She popped.
"Lilly-I. Lilly...I can't. I-"
"Okay. Mure, breathe. Just breathe. Tell me what happened. Jingles didn't go in the litter? Mom forcing you to buy denim again?"
"Lilly this isn't funny!" I snapped.
"What is it then?"
"Lilly, I met a 24 year old who apparently loves to fight. He wants to take me on a date."
"You freaking go girl! Wait, I don't get it...Blake and you just broke up so what's the deal?"
"Oh my gosh, he's 24!?"
"Oh my gosh and you're 18!?" She mocked.
I shook my head, biting my lip. Gah, I was uptight. Andy had totally known me from the beginning hadn't he?
"Take some pills. Rest, drink some wine. Stay calm. I'm coming over whenever this date thing is though. When is it?"
"...tomorrow."
"Perfect."
We hung up, leaving me to try and maintain all my craziness in the bathroom. I felt like I couldn't breathe. He really scared me for some reason, yet at the same time he alured me like candy to a child.