The Whys of Us

Andy learns a lot of things about Rhysand as a month and a half passes.

He's not into physical displays of affection, not even after their kiss in front of her dorm building. And Andy is more than fine with that. The most Rhysand has done when they were in public together was to hold her hand or keep his palm curved around her hip—and even then, Andy can't stop her stomach from flipping and her cheeks from burning.

But. In private. Usually in his and Jenner's home—Rhysand feels the need to keep her close. When she's not busy studying, she's on his lap most of the time whenever he's working, arms around her to reach the computer. Sometimes, when she's helping around the kitchen, he stands behind her, swipes her hair away from her neck, and drops a little kiss between the curve of her neck and shoulder. It makes her heart wild, her face hot, but she likes it. The closeness, and the affection. He hasn't kissed her again, not since the first time, but it's because Andy ducks her head whenever he leans in close enough to do so, and runs away.

Because she still has no idea how to do it, and she doesn't want to embarrass herself. Clash into his teeth or something.

Rhysand lets his actions speak louder than his words. He's dropped by Andy's university more than once to bring her food that he cooked, and he always makes it a point to open the door for her. When Andy's to-do list is full, and she's stressed over school and work, he takes time out of his day to help and to cheer her up, even in the littlest of things—like leaving a sweet note inside her binder ("You're smarter than all of these other fuckers, sunshine. You got this."), making her coffee in the morning—and then he acts like it isn't a big deal. Just last week, he left an extra toothbrush in his bathroom, and when Andy asked about it, he cleared his throat, shrugged, and left the room.

Rhysand forces the carton of milk into the fridge when it doesn't really fit, and then lets it fall on the next person who opens the door (Jenner). He laughs at Andy when she's crying over a video of a dog being rescued, and he isn't shy to grab the last slice of pizza. He's incredibly hardworking, and passionate, and sweet, and Andy is lucky. And it's ridiculous—how she's always nervous around him.

But Andy doesn't know her boyfriend—boyfriend!—to be clingy. Or needy. They go for hours without seeing each other, even days, and all she gets are a few text messages and maybe a ten-minute call, which she doesn't mind. She knows Rhysand isn't big on that thing. Which is why it's confusing and surprising, when Rhysand calls her while she's studying in the library to prepare for finals.

"Hello?" she whispers, furrowing her eyebrows.

"You left your lint here," Rhysand says lowly.

Andy blinks. "What?"

"Your lint," he repeats, clearer this time. "You left it here. I think it misses you. So you should, uh, come over."

Andy can't help it. She grins. "Really."

"Yep," Rhysand says, and he sounds so serious that Andy wants to laugh. "Can't go another day without your lint. So you should come get it."

Andy hasn't been over in three days, and the last time she and Rhysand talked was yesterday. Andy covers her mouth with her hand, warmth spreading through her, and answers, "I miss you too. I'll be by in twenty."

Rhysand scoffs. "I didn't say anything about me."

"You didn't need to."

"Bye," he says gruffly. "Be safe. Text me if you need a ride."

Andy ends the call, still smiling, and packs up her things. MJ is more than happy to drop her off, and with her key, Andy heads straight to Rhysand's studio, her arms full of books and notes and her laptop—all the things she needs to study.