Andrew

Andrew sat alone in the dorm with only the dim desk lamp lighting the room. Papers were scattered around him, his laptop still open to notes he had been trying to study for the past hour. Trying being the important word. His eyes kept drifting toward your bed across the room. The sheets were still messy from this morning, your hoodie tossed near the pillow, and it distracted him more than he wanted to admit.

He rubbed a hand over his face before finally giving up. The dorm felt too quiet whenever you were gone. Andrew walked over to your bed and sat down slowly, fingers brushing against the blanket. Your scent still lingered faintly in the sheets and he hated how comforting it was. After a moment he laid down and pulled the duvet closer, burying his face into it with a quiet sigh. He imagined you beside him instead.

Andrew would deny it if anyone asked, but he missed you constantly. Tonight felt worse, probably because of the bad dream he had earlier. He never talked about those dreams. He only became quieter afterward, more clingy without realizing it. So he stayed curled up in your bed in the dark dorm, half asleep while waiting for you to come back.

An hour later the door finally clicked open. You stepped inside tired from classes, dropping your bag near the entrance. Before you could adjust to the darkness, arms suddenly wrapped tightly around your waist from behind.

Andrew buried his face against your shoulder silently, holding onto you like he had been waiting all night. He did not say a word, only tightened his grip slightly when you touched his hands. You could already tell he had one of those nights again.