The Ashes

Chapter 4

Can we please discuss punk Ashton Irwin as Gabriel bc idk bout u but I'm crying
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Monday has returned to murder every teenager's morning. It's seven am and I'm contemplating my life choices in front of a bowl of soggy cereal when someone rings the doorbell. Who has the nerve to come to someone's door at this hour?

I eventually reach the door after stumbling several times on my way there, rubbing my bleary eyes at the sight in front of me

"Why the hell are you in front of my house, at seven in the bloody morning, holding croissants, Harvey?"

"I'm walking you to school."

"No you aren't. Please leave."

"I'm not leaving unless you're with me, so unless you want to explain why an attractive guy namely myself is standing in front of your house to your brothers, I suggest you walk to school with me."

Does this guy ever stop?

"Whatever. Wait here, I'll be out in a minute."

As I'm climbing up the stairs and getting ready, a disturbing thought pops into my mind. How the hell does he know where I live?

I ask him the exact question when I walk out again.

"I have my sources." he smirks.

"You're a creep." I state as we walk.

"I'm not a creep, kitten. I just have different methods."

"Keep telling yourself that." I snigger.

He glares at me, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Why the hell am I looking at his lips? I whip my head around, feeling my face flush red at the thought. He's a stalker.

Or maybe he likes you.

Shut up, brain.

"I never knew kittens could blush." He remarks smugly. "Can I ask why?"

When I don't answer him, grateful that the blush fades relatively quickly, he adds "I know I'm hot but you don't have to be so obvious."

Aggravated, I speed up until I'm in the train station and climbing onto the platform. Why does he have to be so cocky? Is it really that hard to be a decent human being?

"What did I do?" he whines as we board the train. I spin to glare at him; he's genuinely oblivious and that's what infuriates me the most.

"Nothing." I fume. I think figuring it out himself will be more beneficial to him. To make a point I unwrap my headphone chord and plug it into my phone, clicking play on my Blink-182 playlist. For the entire duration of the first two songs he alternates between staring at me, puzzled, and biting his lip as he searches for a reason. Or maybe he's trying to decide which girls he wants to flirt with aimlessly today, I don't know. It's amusing watching him use his head for once, either way.

He eventually shrugs at me and nudges the left side of my headphones back so I can hear him. I normally would freak out if someone messed with my music but I want to know if he's figured out why he's annoying me.

"What did I do, kitten?", he eventually repeats, obviously mystified. Huh, maybe he has no brain after all.

Obviously that was an unrealistic hope but hey, a girl can dream. "If you could stop being so cocky, that would be great."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness." he grovels, somehow managing to keep a straight face. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You are forgiven." My attempt to display a poker face fails, and I notice the tension release from his shoulders. I realise he's still holding the two croissants and I grab one, smirking at his late reaction. They're still warm and crispy on the outside, and I decide I could eat these all day. Although my parents would probably say I should be careful to not gain any weight, as they oh-so-subtly hint every time I eat something that isn't salad.