"I'll fill the dishwasher up real fast," I said, reaching forward to take his plate. "You can go to my room an-"
"Wait a second, what's on your arm?" I almost dropped the plate at his question, eyes going wide as I realized I had no long sleeves or bracelets on.
"N-Nothing." I mumbled, taking the plates and taking them to the dishwasher.
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"No, Natalie, that was not nothing," Ashton spoke firmly, yet his voice somehow managed to shake at the same time. "Please, let me see."
"I said it was nothing, Ashton." I tried again, placing the two dirty plates on the counter, my back to the boy who I was slowly forcing myself to shut out. A lump formed in my throat and I scolded myself, demanding myself not to cry. I wouldn't be weak in front of Ashton. I couldn't be weak in front of anyone. I was better than that now.
"I know what I saw!" He exclaimed, beginning to sound more desperate with each passing word. "I just need you to tell me I'm wrong."
I didn't speak, knowing if I did, my voice would fail me and I'd become an emotional mess on my kitchen floor.
I was not proud of what I had done to myself, no matter the fact that my last relapse was almost two months ago. I wasn't proud that I found the need to physically punish myself, added to what had been happening in my own mind. I hated what I'd allowed myself to do, but it wasn't me. It was like I had no control over it at the time, and all I could do was sigh in relief, because even though I didn't want it, I felt like I needed it.
But Ashton didn't need to know.
It was over now, wasn't it?
"Tell me I'm wrong, Nat." He spoke softly, the front of his body against the back of mine as he hugged me from behind, his gentle touch tracing from my shoulders down my arms, down to my wrists. It was so soft and soothing and gentle I almost didn't feel it, but it was still enough to cause my heart to pound.
Ashton slowly turned my arm so the pale lines were in his view as he let out a disappointed sigh. I couldn't detect his exact emotions. I rarely ever could, but fuck, I needed to know the thoughts that were going through his mind right now. Did he hate me? Pity me? Would he leave me?
I would. I was too damaged and broken to be loved again.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, wanting to scream when a tear rolled down my cheek, the weak and powerless feeling settling in. "I haven't..You know, hurt myself since I moved here. I almost did." I admitted.
I remembered the day before school started that I locked myself in the bathroom and almost relapsed with the blade from my mom's eyeliner pencil sharpener, but didn't.
"Don't," I heard his voice plead. "Please, don't ever hurt yourself again. I..I know more about this than you might think, but I know why you did it. But I'm here now, and I won't let you do this again, okay?"
With his mom being a therapist, I'd expect him to know a lot about self-harm and depression and anxiety and eating disorders, so I wasn't quite sure why he figured I thought he knew less than he really did, but it took everything I had in me not to break into a fit of sobs right there in his arms.
"I didn't and haven't hurt myself again because of you, Ash," I admitted, turning to face him as I sat on the counter so I could be to eye-to-eye with him. "You mean way more to me than you might think."
He smiled softly, wiping at my tears before brushing his lips against mine. I should have probably found it weird that they never came into full contact, but I enjoyed just being here with him.
He knew something about me now that no one else did besides my mother and my father. Two things, really. The car accident as well.
"Do you still want to study for that test?" He asked after a few minutes of staying like that in the kitchen. "Or do you want to take a nap, or cuddle or...I don't know, make out or something?" I laughed, shoving him away from me before hopping off the counter.
"You're funny, Irwin," I spoke, quickly putting the dishes away before closing and starting the dishwasher while Ashton stood by watching. "Let's go hit the books. I need a B minus."
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(Long) A/N: I'm assuming everyone was expecting there to be some self-harm talk in this chapter based off of where I left off in the last one?
This is a filler chapter again so its pretty short but maybe it brought a tear or two.
So, I sat down and actually thought about TTS today and where I would like it to go from here and I realized I only have a few more chapters to write before the book is over. Literally over. My very first Ashton fanfiction that I began writing over a year ago. The one I thought would never go that far. Over.
I'm hoping to make it last to Chapter 30 but I honestly don't know if I can. This story is coming to a close really fast.
But I was wondering if to draw it out, if any of you guys had ideas for future chapters? Just little adventures and cute little things Natalie and Ashton do together? Just fluffy couple-y stuff. Inbox me if you do have ideas, and if I use it, I'll be sure to give you a shout out in that chapter.
Also, there is now a Spanish translation of TTS, I just posted the link on my profile. So if for any reason you want the Spanish version, just have a look.
That's all for this chapter my loves.
Have a great night/morning/afternoon wherever you are.
x Callie
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The Therapist's Son // Ashton Irwin [AU] ✔
FanfictionHer mother expected the therapist to help her be happy again, not the therapist's son.