Heterochromia ● a.i

40

[is it wrong to write smut two times in a row?]

(Dylan's P.O.V.)

"Dylan, babe. You gotta get up." My eyes open and I see Ashton kneeling by the side of the bed and feel his hand shaking my arm.

I roll over and stretch my arms over my head, "what?"

"You gotta get up."

"What time is it?"

"Like, three in the morning."

I roll back over to look at him with a confused expression, "why are you waking me up at three?"

"Because Michael came in here and told me that we had to leave. His parents will be home from the airport in like five minutes. And we're in their bedroom." He explains.

Now I just feel gross. I sit up, rub my eyes - not caring about my makeup - and find my dress. "That is gross. Why would you have sex with me in Michael's parents' bed?"

He shrugs, "there aren't many places to go." I glare at him and his stupid smile. "We can go back to my house though, if you don't want to go home."

I nod. "Do I have to put clothes on then?"

His smile widens, "no, you just have to drive."

I nod and pick up my shoes from the floor. "Okay then, let's go."

We start walking down Michael's hallway and to the front door. Once we're outside, I notice that everyone's cars are gone. "You'll have to drive your car."

"Well, obviously."

"Do you know where you're going?" Ashton asks as he opens his car door. I stare at him with a blank face. "That was a stupid question."

"Yeah, it was." We both climb into our cars and begin driving to Ashton's. I never realized how peaceful the roads were this early in the morning. There is hardly anyone out and the only lights are my headlights, the streetlights, and the stoplights. I decide to take the back way to Ashton's because I'm in no mood to drive on the highway. I arrive at Ashton's probably ten minutes after him and when I approach the door, he's already got it open.

"What took you so long?" He whispers.

"I took the long way." I reply.

"Why?"

"I dunno, just 'cause."

He takes a deep breath, "okay. Come on, we gotta be quiet."

I feel my cheeks flush at his choice of words as they remind me of last night, and follow him to his room. He turns on the light and throws on a pair of sweatpants and a cutoff. I remain in his t-shirt and sit on his bed.

The light-hearted atmosphere in the room is slowly evaporating, being replaced by tension. Ashton sits on the bed next to me and doesn't make a move to look at me.

"We have to talk about everything." He finally says.

"I know."

"Can I start?"

I shrug, "sure."

"Okay, I have one question, that has been bugging me, since I saw you last night."

"Shoot it." I already know what it is.

"Why are you so thin?" Whoop, there it is. "I'm not saying that you weren't thin before; I'm just saying that like, now I can see your ribs, and collarbones, and your arms. I'm worried, that's all." He rushes and looks at his intertwined fingers.