For you I would ruin myself

twenty-two

Crap.

How long as she been sleeping for? Is Ashton already awake?

No he isn't. His eyes are still closed, his face finally showing a bit of peace.

Lyla's heart races hoping to God that she hasn't made them for the game. Her phone dropped into the crease of the couch and she reaches all the way down, almost getting her hand caught up in the couch. She finally finds a brick-like object and yanks it out.

5:26pm.

Thank you heavens above.

Lyla lightly shakes his shoulders, he wines and grouches a bit. "Ash, wake up, we need to get going if we wanna have food."

"What's the time?" he croaks.

"Already half past five," Lyla replies quietly.

Ashton chuckles to himself, "So much for studying."

Lyla grins, "Yeah, I just got your textbook and bookmarked the pages where you need to take notes, hope you don't mind."

"Ah, that's perfect. Thank you," he expresses, his gratitude appears in his voice. "Just gotta use the loo real quick, then we can go."

"Yeah, go go," Lyla nods.

She goes back to that picture frame laying flat on the table. Ever so tempted to just lift it up a tad bit to take a peek, but things just got better and she can't lose his trust over something so stupid and something she had complete control over. Lyla walks away and goes back to the couch to pack up her bag then hears the door knob click.

"You ready," Ashton asks, more refreshed and relaxed.

"Yeah," she huffs and smiles, "Fuckin' starving right now."

They arrive at the club with an hour to eat. Definitely not enough time for Ashton to stuff down the food he needs for the game.

"Told you to hurry up," Lyla teases.

"It's fine," Ashton says. "I never eat enough anyways. I'll just have Gatorade throughout the game."

Lyla's jaw drops, "That is alarmingly idiotic. Have a sandwich, I'm begging you to at least have a sandwich."

Ashton rolls his eyes mischievously, "God, I forgot how much of a control freak you are."

"I am not!" Lyla exclaims, "What I am doing is making sure you to have a meal that you very much so need."

"Ok fine," he smirks, "I'll order a sandwich."

Lyla loosens with a kind smile, "Thank you."

So, Ashton proceeds to order a grilled cheese sandwich, technically doesn't qualify as suitable food before a game but it's better than a bucket of truffle frites and tater tots. Lyla orders a plain burger (tomatoes are gross), with a side of frites partly to make Ashton more cheerful before the game.

Ashton ended up having half of Lyla's burger as well as most of the frites.

"Thought you weren't hungry," Lyla says, batting Ashton's hand away from the frites.

Ashton keeps fighting for more, "They're good alright, plus I need to stock up on energy."

Lyla snickers softly, "Yeah you wanna stock up on oil and fatty shit?"

"You make a good point," Ashton replies, eating the last fry in his hand and his hand automatically goes back to the bucket. "Ow!"

"No more frites," Lyla tells him, in a weirdly nurturing tone, "It's not good food for you before a game moron."