Tally Tale 卌 [DISCONTINUED]

Three

(Photo of innocent fetus ashton that's not smiling which is weird because Ashton's resting face is a smile bc why not

Alright it's possible this chapter is sad but I don't know what I'm doing tbh)

I breathe out deeply, opening my eyes at last. Harry sits in the chair, scrolling through his phone with sad eyes. He taps his thumb on the screen, reading something.

"Hey, bud." I croak. He head snaps up in surprise, noticing I'm awake.

"Oh hey." He says, standing up to put his phone in his back pocket of his black skinny jeans. "You ready to go?" He asks, fixing his plain white t-shirt over his hips.

"Yeah, I think."

"Alright, we'll get going then."

X•X•X•X

The car comes to a stop in an underground parking lot. Harry steps out of the beaten car with an assortment of dents and scratches littering the black painted surface. Slamming the door behind him, Harry jogs over to my side of the car and helps me stand my grabbing my arm.

"It's okay, Harry." I chuckle. "I just have amnesia, not a broken leg. Don't worry about me."

"That's so...Ashton." Harry mutters under his breath. I frown at the sad tone in his voice.

Harry, seemingly a little boy with a mature act and a teenage body, links his arm with mine and leads me through the maze of cars parked in the dark concrete palace. Coming to double glass doors baring chipping paint of an ugly shade of jade green on the metal frame. He tugs it open, a loud squeak echoing through the dark and dreary place. Walking through a small white hall with chipped paint and up a half-case of old carpeted stairs, Harry opens another ugly green door, holding it open for me. I smile at the kind boy, patting his shoulder.

He leads me to the front foyer where three elevators rest, awaiting to be in use. Harry pushes the up button, the middle elevator opening.

(Do Australians call them elevators? Or is it more common to call them lifts?)

The metal doors open to an ugly hallway on the fifth floor. The carpet is faded and dirty, a dark green with floral patterns on it. The wallpaper is an odd shade of grey, contrasting with the green terribly. The lighting sucks, one light at the end of the hall constantly flickering.

"I know exactly what you're thinking." Harry laughs. "You comment on how ugly this place is every time you walk through it."

"It's beyond ugly, Harry." I state bluntly. "My soul is impacted right now."

Harry laughs lightly, walking down the hall. I follow him, laughing at my own joke as well. He stops in front of an ugly beige-but-kinda-not-beige wooden door, fumbling with his keys as he unlocks it.

I take a step into the apartment, sighing in relief that it's not ugly.

"You took control and decorated my entire apparent, mortified that I would make it worse than the hallway." Harry chuckles. "You hated ugly settings."

"Well that factor still comes into play with this Ashton as well." I mutter.

(I feel like Ashton is that type of person, okay? I kinda am but I'm making Ashton worse so I don't hurt my self esteem. I also feel like I'm combining him with Dan Howell buT I DONT EVEN CARE )

"I can tell." Harry giggles.

"Oh my god, how many different laughs do you have?"

"Not as many as you, Ash."

"Well, how many do I have?" I question, cocking an eyebrow and crossing my arms.

"You have your teenage girl laugh, your Santa Claus laugh, your snort-snuffle laugh, your 'catching-my-breath' laugh, your 'catching-my-breath-while-clapping-loudly-with-my-abnormally-large-hands' laugh, your giggle, your really creepy evil cackle, your really loud laugh, your super quiet laugh, your old man laugh-" Harry lists off his fingers.

"Okay, it can vary, I get it." I interrupt, glancing at my hands. "But large hands? They look normal sized to me."

"Have you seen yourself yet?" Harry asks curiously. I hesitantly shake my head. Harry motions me to follow him. He leads me to a bedroom, most likely the guest room as it doesn't have any personality in it. The walls are a yellow-beige, the bed a mix of golden pillows and bed cover with white sheets and pillows. A white wardrobe stands in the corner beside a white chair with a small golden pillow. Under the legs of the chair, a beige-gold rug covers a small area of light brown hardwood floor.

He pushes me in the room, closing the door to leave me in the room by myself. I glance around, seeing a tall gold framed mirror on the wall.

There stands a man. His brown hair in a tangled web of curls brushing his shoulders, slightly resembling a mop. His facial hair shows maturity. His glasses magnify the bags under his eyes and the dullness in his hazel irises.

I hold up my hand beside my face and snort, realizing it was pretty big compared to the rest of my body.

I notice the tattoo again, forgetting that it existed since the first time I saw it.

Why would I have five tallies permanently inked on my skin?

X•X•X•X

I can't think of shit to write and its a good place to end it anyways

aLL MY LiIiiIFE

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR MOMENTS TO COOoome

So I'm also starting to get pulled into the phandom please save me

5sos has already destroyed the majority of my life