5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Ashton Imagine

Distance is always hard.
Especially if it's between you and the person you love.
Mine being between me and my boyfriend, Ashton. We had met through a mutual friend and had developed a friendship - then relationship - rather quickly. With one problem - we went to colleges at opposite ends of the country, so we rarely saw one another, unless it was on a computer screen.
To say it sucked, was an understatement. Some days, only a few messages could be exchanged as we both had part time jobs, college work and friends to see, so juggling it all has become rather stressful. Which is why I'm currently sat nervously with my phone in hand, waiting for Ashton to reply to my brief message of asking if he was available to Skype.
A💜: of course, beautiful. I'll call you in 5 x
I impatiently waited, running through the different ways of how I could bring up our impending doom: our breakup.
Tying my hair up away from my face, I take a deep breath to relax myself as I feel my muscles tense up when his name appears on my laptop screen and his call waiting to be answered.
Hesitating, I hover my finger over the accept button before plunging it down and taking the risk of answering the call.
It takes a few seconds to connect, but when I do it knocks the air out of me slightly. Sat there - with his soft, golden, curly hair, smart glasses and a wide, goofy grin on his face - Ashton looks the epitome of perfect. And it breaks my heart to think I can't just kiss whenever I want, I can't be held by him when I'm sad, and I can't be his completely all because of the distance between us.
I wish we could be like that.
"Baby?" He giggles, and my eyes widen when realising I've just been sat in stone cold silence for over a minute - just thinking.
"Hmm?"
"I asked how you are? I've missed you," he grins, his hazel eyes filled with happiness as he looks at me through the screen.
A screen. Not in person.
So many cons, not enough pros.
"Oh, me? I'm good, you?" I ramble, my words mushing together and coming out rushed. This immediately peeks his interest, and he leans closer to his camera and stares at me in concern.
"I'm ok, what's wrong? You don't seem your usual self," he worries, and I bite my lip as I stare at the chipped paint on my nails.
How do I start to tell him that I love him, but it's not working out?
"Should I be worried,y/n?"
"Ashton, I love you-"
"Holy shit! Are you breaking up with me?" His concern flips to anger before my sentence can even begin, and I look at the camera with sadness. This is already going the way I didn't want it to, "well, are you?"
"Ashton-"
"God! Stop saying my fucking name!"
His yelling stops me short, and I chew my lip with anxiety. I've never seen him this angry - his hands tugging at his hair, his shoulders raising up and down quickly as he takes deep breaths to calm himself - it's quite scary.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, and I furrow my brows as he looks at me. Why is he sorry?
"What for?"
"For scaring you, I never yell and I know you don't like it. You just - you've caught me off guard is all," he mutters, but I can hear how genuine he is in his soft voice.
"How could you not have been expecting this, Ash?" I carefully choose my words, speaking lowly so that the tension doesn't suffocate the pair of us.
"I don't know," he shrugs, elbows on his desk as he rubs his hands over his face, "I thought you loved me enough to make this work."
"I do."
"If you did, you wouldn't be giving up."
With his reasoning hanging in the air, we both sit in a dead silence for almost 5 minutes. 5 long and torturous minutes that seem to drag on for a life time.
Neither of us move from our positions as we sit in silence, both of us staring at somewhere over than the screen, and I can feel the awkward beginning to set in already.
"Don't give up," he finally whispers, his hazel eyes boring into mine through the screen and I can see just how desperate he is.
"This is too difficult already, Ash, don't make this harder for me," I quietly beg, wanting this conversation to speed up so I can eat ice cream and wallow in sadness on my own.
"Harder for you?! Have you though how hard this is for me!" He begins to raise his voice again, and I can feel my eyes begin to sting with an influx of tears that I wanted to save for after our talk.
"It's hard on us both!"
"No! You're breaking up with me, y/n. You've clearly thought about this, and I've had no clue the entire time. I'm sat here thinking my girlfriend is calling me to catch up and tell me she misses me, only for her to start the ball rolling on becoming my ex!"
He drops his head into his hands, and I see his shoulders shake slightly. He's crying, and this is always my weakness. I hate seeing this beautiful boy cry, it's painful to witness and I've only seen it twice in the year we've known each other.
"Ash, baby. Don't cry please," I choke out, feeling my warm tears slowly slide down my cheeks as he continues to sob, but he looks up at the camera. He wipes his eyes under his glasses, then readjusts them on his face.
"Is there someone else?" He dead loans, face almost stoic as he asks the question everyone always assumes in a breakup.
"What? No, Ashton. Don't be an idiot. I love you, I didn't even look at anyone else the entire time we was together," I argue, and he slowly nods his head.
"Then why?" He softly mumbles, eyes dropped to his desk and not looking at me - or his camera.
"The distance. I can't do the long distance anymore. Going over a week without Skyping each other, sending only texts for several days before one of us has a 10 minute window to call the other. I want to be able to see you when I want, not have to worry that you're in a lecture. I haven't seen you in person for over 3 months, it hurts."
After a while, he slowly nods and looks up to me. His face shows exactly how he's feeling - heartbroken. Worse than that, I ripped his heart from his chest and crushed it in my hand as it slowly pumped and turned into dust. I broke the one person I've ever loved.
"Ok."
"What?" I question, thinking he would put up more of a fight, but he just admits defeat so easily.
"I said 'Ok', y/n. You want to the end this, then fine. I wanted more with you, and I understand the problems with distance - hell, I'm living them with you - and I reckon we would be able to work through them if we spoke, but you've clearly made your mind up. I love you, I hope you can find someone who can make you happier than I ever did."
And with that, the connection ends and I'm sat wide eyed and breathless looking at a black screen and a bleak future.

A/N
I wrote a second part to this imagine (it's in my smut book though and titles Ashton - Makeup) if you want to see how it ended?