Darling || h.s. au {Completed}

T h i r t y T w o

I stare at the ceiling, a slight smile on my face. My bed sheets are a mess, covering only my lower half, exposing my knees to the cold air. I cross my arms over my bare chest and let out a pent up breath through my nose. The ceiling fan squeaks each time it makes a round, and swings the chains for the light around. It's morning, the light seeps through the curtains in my room.

I look over and watch Drew subconsciously pull the sheets over her bare shoulder.

"You awake?" I whisper.

She hums lightly and I smile, leaning over to place a gentle kiss to her temple.

"Why are you up so early?" she groans, half asleep.

She turns on her back and turns her head to look at me, pushing her brown hair out of her face.

"I like the sunrise." I shrug.

"Weirdo."

I chuckle as she tugs the blanket higher on her body and rolls over so her head is rested on my chest.

"I don't wanna get up." she whispers.

I think I know why.

"Legs hurting?" I ask, stroking her tangled hair.

She nods and moves her legs so there clamped together under the sheets, they rest beside mine and I feel the softness of her skin against my own. The comparison is like black and white, complete opposites. I maneuver my arm under her waist and hold her close, pressing my lips to her forehead. She then looks up at me from underneath her eyelashes and bites her lip.

"I don't regret it." her voice is so soft, I almost don't hear her at first.

That's what she thinks. Later on, when things start to go south, when I lose my temper again, she'll regret ever having met me. I think of the possible ways I can keep that side in check and let her help me trust people again. As for now, she's the only person I trust. Having being abandoned by everyone I ever loved or cared about, she is all I have left.

And I can't lose her.

I swing my other arm around her and hold her close, trying to ignore what she had said and play it off like I hadn't heard it at all. But I had. I turn on my side and stroke the back of her slightly disheveled hair, combing through it as gently as I can with my big fingers. The occasional 'ouch' indicates I'm not doing very well.

"Was I gentle enough?" I asked her, hoping she knew what I meant.

"Yes, but you can't really stop the pain the first time, even though you tried."

I nod and stare ahead of me at the wall, analyzing the color and how ugly it looks. The room itself is one big shithole, I actually feel ashamed that I brought her here, let alone took her virginity here. I even out my breathing as I contemplate why Des had been there, at Gemma's place. He is welcome no where near me or any of my family. Why isn't he dead already?

I hear the soft humming coming from Drew's lips, but it is faint as I continue to attempt to get Des out of my mind. He doesn't even deserve to live in my thoughts, I loathe him that much that I hate myself for thinking about him. I hate myself for not killing him when I had the chance yesterday.

Think of Gem.

I tell myself. She wouldn't want that to happen on her place. She deserves better.

I blink a few times to register the feeling of Drew's fingertips slightly tracing the sparrows on my chest. I look down and smile crookedly, examining the bliss on her face, in her tired eyes.

"Why did you get these?" she asks.

"In memory of my grandparents. "I point to the one on my left peck. "That's my grandmother, and the other is my grandfather."

"Oh, and what about this one?" she points lower to the giant fuck ugly moth on my abdomen.

"I was pissed one night and woke up with that. Don't remember most of that night to be honest." I chuckle, recalling the event of waking up in New Mexico.

She smiles half heartedly and hides something behind her eyes. They aren't twinkling like they were when we first woke up, they're wetter and pinkish. Had she been crying and I didn't notice?

"Hey, what's wrong?" I coo, holding the small of her back against me.

She blinks a few times and looks up at me, a single tear rolling down the side of her cheek. I wipe it away and push her hair back, revealing that more years threaten to spilll out. Before I know it, she's clinging to me and crying onto my chest, and I have no idea why. I don't push on the subject, I wait for her to speak on her own. After several minutes of the tears wetting my chest and my grip tightening on her to hold her closer to me, she sniffles and looks up at me. She closes her eyes and wipes them dry from the liquid iron, her head lowers back to my chest, her eyes still closed, and she whispers.

"Ashton."

I'm confused.

"Ashton?"

"H-he was the one that, that tried to rape me..." her voice cracks and she buries her face back into my chest.

My whole body is stiff from shock.

And anger.