Constructive criticism for part 2! There is nothing in this empty house. This quiet house. Let me introduce myself. My name is Caleb, Im nineteen. My girlfriends name is Ally, and she is 18. Her birthday was two weeks ago, as mine was seven months ago. Ally and I decided to move into a house together. Allys dad finally let her after I had to show him how good I was for her. Her father made me do a lot of things, like, I had to be able to buy a car, have a reasonable job, and more importantly now, buy a house-in which case I did. Now that we have this house, a two bedroom, one bathroom, single family home, we needed to get unpacked. Standing in the living room, I walked out the door, smelling like glue and wood, out to my red ford truck to bring our brand new couches and our brown chair out of the back carriage. I leaned over, slid a tannish couch towards me with my hands, and had a repairmen help me with the other side of the couch when something split into my foot, it felt like a. " Andy's kind facade wasn't fooling me. I turned to see him holding an actual plate of pastries. I shrugged and held out my hand. I watched as Andy took one off the plate and walked towards me, his gait smooth and he reached me in two steps, the kitchen wasn't that small. Reaching for me, Andy clasped my cheeks with his hand, I was starting to get uncomfortable. He held a dipped croissant to my mouth. I chewed, a quiet moan escaped my lips- damn this was nice. "You like it, don't you Beck?" Andy smirked and my cheeks burned red. "Finnish it." "I- I'm gonna go change, have one of those down here for me?" I asked, stepping away and leaving the room. Hurrying upstairs, I slipped off my work shirt and trousers. My hands brushed my lace pants, gasping. I was slightly wet. Andy? Really? I chucked on a pair of sweatpants and a black vest top. I jingled my keys on my way out, locking my door. I hopped downstairs to the kitchen. Andy's hair was just visible over the other side of the island..
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