Piece of Cake | Ashton Irwin [au]

Twenty-three

Ashton's POV

The hand touch, subtle flirting, a cute, vague text hinting of my plan for tomorrow and my excitement level is far from wavering. It wouldn't be so bad if I had this bundle of adrenaline during the day, but it's nearly two in the morning and sleep isn't coming to me any time soon. I've dated a few girls over the years and drunkenly hooked up once or twice but never have I ever spent an evening pondering what brand lotion a girl uses to make her hands so damn soft.

It was a simple hand touch—something so trivial and shouldn't evoke so much thought. But it did. And like an idiot, I stood there awkwardly holding Ruth's hand until she told me let go. It's easy to hide my awkwardness with sarcasm, but I don't know long that will hold up. She's slowly seeping into my every thought and if I'm not careful she might start interfering with work, and the last thing I need is a distraction as invigorating as Ruth. But it's not stopping me.

She's just down the hall. It's a thirty second walk. I could go see her if I wanted to.

My feet are already ahead of my thoughts as they step out of bed, slide into my shoes, guide me to the entryway where I grab my keys, and saunter out of my apartment and down to Ruth's. My fist impatiently pounds against the door, potentially waking up our neighbors as the knocks echo down the hall. My feet bounce up and down as I wait a few, short seconds for her to answer before my knuckles make contact with the door again. With my ear pressed against the door, light shuffling and fumbling with the locks erupt from the other side.

Ruth harshly tugs the door open, which would have caused me to topple inside if I didn't pull away so quickly. Dark circles emphasize her tired state, and from the massive amount of bed head and matching pink pajama top and shorts with cat silhouettes adorning it, it's safe to assume I just woke her up. But for good reason. Selfish but for good reason.

"This is a dream right?" Ruth says, glaring at me with eyes that would put Medusa to shame as she has left me static. "Because only in a dream would someone have the audacity to knock on someone's door at two in the morning and break them out of what they consider to be a greatly appreciated rest. So, unless you are a figment of my imagination appearing in what is to go down as the most deplorable nightmare, you best have a good reason to be standing at my doorstep right now."

Even half-asleep her wittiness is on point. However, I'm more than sure if I don't come up with a plausible explanation for myself, I can kiss all chances with her goodbye. "I need you to get dressed," I say hurriedly.

"No, I need to go back to sleep. You have a lesson to teach tomorrow, so you should too."

"Please go get dressed."

"Is someone dying, hurt, or potentially trying to harm themselves?"

"No?"

"Then I'm not getting dressed," she asserts.

As patient as I am with children, my patience is wearing thin with her. I slip through the small gap between her and the door and welcome myself inside. Her shouts of disapproval only fuel my adrenaline as I go into her room and raid her closet. Grabbing whatever seems decent, I toss a pair of jeans and a shirt to Ruth, which unfortunately lands on her head thanks to her poor reflexes.

"Put those on," I order, kneeling down to the floor snatching whatever pair of shoes I see first.

"What the hell are you doing, Ashton?" she shouts, ripping the clothes off her head. "You can't just barge in here."

"I didn't barge in; I casually slipped in."

"Smartass. What are you doing here, and why are you rummaging through my closet?"