Love Me to the End

|14 - The Contract|

Ash POV

It has now been five hours since Iris had gone to hell, heaven, and back during which she probably remembered something from Saturday night. I can't say to what extent, but considering she locked herself in the bathroom, it must've been a lot of it.

Running my hand through my hair, I try to soothe my nerves so that I could actually make it to practice in half an hour. Where I would finally face her wrath or her silence. Both are equally terrifying.

It wasn't like Iris to be shaken up like that; she was one of the strongest, most stubborn people I've ever met. So her being embarrassed did absolutely nothing to help me feel better.

And the worst part about all of this, is that I should've stopped it. I should've never kissed back and let her take initiative. How could I blame Iris when she was clearly drunk? She accidentally had something she tried to avoid, and combined with her weak tolerance, it was terrible and never should've happened. I didn't want to pull back. A part of me wanted to kiss her until she couldn't feel her own fingers and fuck her on the bathroom counter.

The idea alone scared me- no, it terrified me.

Sure, I slept with people; god, I was known for it. But, I hadn't done so since I met Iris. Her crinkled eyes and bubbly existence gave me a plethora of reasons to wake up happy. Which leads me to the million dollar question: is it because she's a good influence or because I am sexually attracted to her?

In normal circumstances I would've had no problem with doing the dirty with her, but now, I didn't want to ruin our perfect dynamic. The way we fit into each other's lives was too good for me to ruin it.

The way she makes sure I do my work, the way I make sure she sleeps alright, and the way she makes sure I don't skip meals. How I walk her home when it gets late, how she forces me out of bed, and how her hugs always soothe me on those long days. How each day I listen to her stupid rants about that one rude customer, her hopes and dreams, and the heartwarming scene from her favorite romance novel. And how she listens to my trauma, fears, and secrets nobody but my mind knows.

It wasn't just a simple drunk kiss. Just like how it wouldn't have been just a casual fuck if we had ended up naked that night.

Sighing, I break off another piece of chocolate as I place my chin on my palm and prop my elbow up on the bench. Honestly it was fucking pathetic how I'm sitting on a bench at the same 7/11 we were at not too long ago, yet, I couldn't care less as the only thing my mind was occupied with was solutions of how to mend things with Iris.

God, she's way too good for this cruel world.

I eventually finish my fifth chocolate bar and cross off multiple dumb ideas on the notes app. Lines and lines of sayings that might help to explain this to her in a kind, mature fashion.

'Hey, sorry I kissed you and want to fuck you. Still wanna be friends?'

'So about last night. Are we all good?'

'You're really hot and I'm sorry I kissed you back even though you're straight and you were drunk.'

They got worse as I went on.

I gnaw on my already chewed lip and glance at the time, a blaring 4:50pm staring back at me. Dance practice comes into my mind and I slowly force myself off the bench. The rods stick to my ass, and I was sure I'd find rod shaped imprints printed across my asscheeks. I stretch my arms and legs and they tingle, blood rushing back into them in waves.

Taking out my keys and starting up the engine, I barely give myself time to step on the gas pedal before I'm off, the world zooming past me in a blur. Before I know it I stop in front of the familiar sign and slide out of my seat with my bag slung behind me.