But Loved

6. SATAN'S SACRIFICE

>Bashton is really cute TBH<

I sigh and place the piece of paper back on the table. I wonder how much of their songs are about me that I never noticed.

"What the hell!" Ashton exclaims and I look up.

He turns down the music. I keep my eyes at his face. The towel around his waist isn't the best. He looks up at me confused.

"What are you doing here?" He asks.

"Sorry didn't except you to be naked and covering yourself with a dish towel," I say.

"Wow you're sassy today," he smirks.

"And you made my boyfriend uncomfortable. Can we just get this talk thing settled?" I ask and he sighs.

"Yah. I'm just gonna go get dressed," he says and I nod sitting down.

He goes to another room and closes the door. I wait patiently trying to think of something to say. He comes back in dressed and sits beside me. We both sit there awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," Ashton says, "about making your boyfriend uncomfortable that is."

"It's fine," I shrug.

"I'm also sorry for not calling you ever," he says.

"Why didn't you?" I ask and we both finally look at each other.

"You left like we weren't even something to you," he admits and both of our eyes seem to gloss over, "I thought you wouldn't want to see me."

"I left because you were something to me," I say feeling a tear drop. "Do you know how hard it is to be so sick but also try and forget how you're waiting for someone you fucking care for so much but they never come?"

"Yes," he says and I stop talking. "It's nice to know you found someone."

"Yah. How did you meet Bryana?" I ask.

"I met her at a party," he shrugs," she was supposed to be a one night stand but she was really nice. I couldn't."

"Same actually," I say and he laughs.

"Good to know you're over that Mark thing," he says and I nod.

"Good to know you can be lustfull," I joke and he punches my arm.

"Hey it's not my fault!" He exclaims making me laugh.

"I'm sorry for leaving," I say quietly and the mood shifts back to how it was before.

"It hurt," he says back placing his hand on his right wrist.

I take his hand and roll up his sleeves. He watches as I trace my hand over where his scars faded and sigh. I know they're there. He takes my own hand and does the same except mine are still there. They always are.

"I'm sorry that this ever happened," he says.

"Not your fault," I say frowning.

"Are we friends now?" He asks.

"Is your number still the same?" I ask and he giggles.

Damn that giggle.

"Yes is yours?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess we are friends," he says and I smile.

"I guess," I laugh.

--

"Tell me how getting drunk as friends is going to help our friendship?" I ask Ashton as he pulls me into the club.