four words [the fangirl ii - a.i]

42

S A R A H

As soon as we came home after hiding and disguising as not Sarah Antoinette Wesley ,myself, the whole day we spent out the mall I went online and look at his twitter. Which where I suspect he did something terribly wrong.

Missing her. That was the caption. He posted the photo of my hands with the ring on, which what I was wearing at the moment.

I pulled it off of my ring finger and put it on a box, my drum sticks' box, and texted him. Are you up?

Wasn't, but my phone ringed so... , he replied and as soon as I read that he called with Facetime.

I saw his tired and flushing face. The screen's light illuminated his face and it makes his eyes to closed at half. "I miss you," were his first words. In his deep sleepy tone.

I rolled my eyes and said, straightforward. "Obviously, you posted a photo."

"Why? Don't like it?" he asked and his tone changed from a very soft and charming voice into a little rough and with obvious anger on it that instant.

     "No. I was just... surprised? I thought you don't want people to find out? That we have to do this for Luke, for your band, for me?" I asked. We shouldn't be talking about this. We should be missing each other (he does though) but here we were. At the edge of the fight again.

I always change the good vibes into bad.

     "That photo can only be seen by the people who I follow." He said, serious face is what I saw.

     "You follow fans too and when we were at the mall. Earlier,"

     "With who?" he asked, cutting me off.

     I answered quickly and continued anyways, "-With Ace and Sam, we just walked in and then they saw me. I didn't know how but they knew me. And asked." I looked away from the screen, "I didn't know what to say."

     "What did you say?"

     I stare at the screen for four minutes. No one was talking, silence has always been included in our relationship, "That they were mistaken. That it wasn't me." I said flatly, finally.

He laugh. Not just giggle, but the way I laughed earlier. His head throwing back even he was lying in stomach. "What? Is something funny?" I asked, confused, and I was laughing too.

His laughs are contagious.

"Is that the best you can come up?" he asked but I only seen dark, he must have dropped his cellphone on his bed and laugh his ass off, "Really? Sarah?" he asked again. Off the camera.

"Yeah." I said, "What is wrong with you." I said, not asking.

He grabbed his phone and his face brought into the screen. "You're funny."

"Am not trying to be one. I am being honest and serious here Ashton. Like give me some ideas or anything to say to people. You're mean." I wanted to cross my arms but I was holding my cellphone and wearing an earphone.

     Instead of responding he went off again and the next thing happened is...

Within a minute I was all packed up
I've got a ticket to another world,
I don't wanna go, I don't wanna go
......

His voice was soft and sleepy and I could hear the background started to have crickets. He might be out of the room, by the terrace.

She sleeps alone, my heart wants to come home, I wish I was, I wish I was...

"I miss you." I told him, "I want to hug you so tight right now. Ahhhh, why are you doing this to me!" I said and threw my phone at the bed and hug my pillows instead.

I could still see him, by the screen as it lie there at my bed. I stare. He was staring at his screen too. He seemed sad. "Come out. I know you're there, staring right at the screen, to me." He smiled, he tried to.

I climbed to it and face my screen to me. We just stared to each other. Said nothing. As if we were memorizing each other's features; every laugh lines, dimples, marks, scars and pimples and eyebags on our faces. Every bit of it until he lost it.

     He was crying.

     His tears just fell without me noticing it, It rushed through his cheeks and quickly wiped it away by his hands and covered the half of his face with his arms. "Why are you crying? Are you okay?" I asked him, sitting up.

     He shook his head, "Then why? Oh my god Ashton don't make me come over."

     His eyes smiled then it brought tears again, "It'd be great but don't. I don't know," he says, his clogged nose changed his voice, "Maybe because I just miss you. You know?" he said and giggled. His phone bounced back.

     I couldn't do anything. Singing would just make it worse. Besides singing doesn't like me.

     "What should I do?" I asked instead because I really don't know what to do. Either myself, I wasn't sure what to do to ease this homesickness that I was feeling even though I was home, at my parents' house.

     "We couldn't do a thing." he said.

     That's the hardest part. When the time come and you couldn't do anything to make each other better. To feel better.

He told me about his day instead of crying. That Michael dyed his hair again with silver and when he was doing his hair the bowl that contained his dye fell off the chair, "And that's the history of the half silver hair of Michael Clifford." he said, silently laughing as he change his position.

"Aren't you tired?" I asked him because he just yawned.

"I am but I still want to see you." That made me smile. He's the sweetest person ever.

"As soon as I wake up I'll call you. I promise. I don't want you to be sleepy at shows. Go to sleep sleepyhead." I said and smiled.

"Promise?" he asked, I nodded. "Pinky promise?" He gestured his pinky finger to the screen and I did the same.

"Pinky promise."
"Pinky promise."