49 Forty Nine

Avery was sat on his bed, holding a guitar when I walked in. His face immediately lit up in surprise when he caught sight of me at his doorway, his fingers stilling across the strings. His blonde locks fell over his forehead, his bright blue eyes innocuous and impossibly bright. He was dressed in his usual fuckboy combo- a colourful, summery tank top and shorts, looking as effortlessly attractive as ever, even with the more prominent dark circles around his eyes.

"Jules..." He whispered in disbelief, immediately putting his guitar aside and sitting up straighter. "You came."

"I had to," I let out a shaky breath. "Why did you make that post?"

"Come here," he said softly, still a little wide-eyed, patting the space next to him. I hesitated for a second before crossing the messy room, taking a seat next to him on the bed while keeping a safe distance between us.

"You... didn't have to, you know. Your mother still doesn't know, right? You can still take it down."