Deciding on You || a.i. (Book 2)

02 | Ashton

Harry and I are in the middle of making snow angels over the weekend when it hits me again. This is the thousandth time in the past week that it has hit me, and it makes my entire body feel heavier and heavier every time. I may have lost Maddie for good. There's no way in hell we can just be friends.

I either have to win her back or I've lost her.

I lay in the snow and stare up at the bleak sky, while Harry giggles and rolls around. He's not even making snow angels at this point. It's more like a snow circle, as he tries to roll over as much ground in our backyard as possible.

Eventually, as I lay still, he stops laughing and I hear him attempting to run over to me in his puffy coat. Once he reaches me, he stands over me with his hands on his hips. His cheeks and lips both a bright red, he says, "Ashton, I'm cold."

I sit up and he picks up a small handful of snow and throws it at my face, breaking into another fit of giggles. When I struggle to stand, he squeals and starts running in the direction of our trampoline.

I'm really not in the mood to run around as I chase after him and, once I reach him, I scoop him up in my arms. We're both breathless, and he's still laughing even with his teeth chattering.

"Do you want to go inside?" I ask.

"Will you still play with me?" He asks with big doe eyes and wraps his arms around my neck.

"Of course, little man," I tell him, and a smile spreads across his face.

I carry him back inside, and my skin is thankful the feel the warmth of our house. When I set him down, he's quick to pull his mittens and hat off and throw them by the heater to dry. I help him wiggle out of his jacket and hang both of ours up by the door.

Still freezing in my crewneck, I grab my leather jacket off of one of the hooks and shrug it on. Harry looks up at me impatiently.

"Take your boots off," I tell him, pulling my own off and tossing them among the others under the coat rack. He stomps his little feet on the mat by the door before sitting down and unzipping his boots.

He shivers when he stands and I pull him away from the door to shut it. I'm watching him for the day while my mom spends it at some sort of conference for work. They couldn't have picked a worse time for me to have to pretend I'm in a good mood.

"Are you hungry?" I ask him, "Should we eat before we start playing again?"

In his socks, he scurries over to the pantry and reaches up to open it. At his eye-level is a box of hot chocolate mix, and he pulls it out to show it to me. I walk over and take it from him, but grab a can of chicken noodle soup from the shelf above.

"Let's eat something first," I say and he pouts, but nods anyway.

He climbs up into a chair at the counter while I pull out a pot to make the soup in. I've been trying not sigh all day, but it just happens. Right now, I'd rather be curled up in bed with my covers over my head. At least canned soup doesn't take much effort to make.

"Ashton?" He hesitates to ask while I turn the stove on and open up the can. I wait until the soup is cooking to look over at him.

"Yeah, Hare?"

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and run my fingers through my hair, waiting for him to go on.

He squirms in his seat, sitting up to point at the pot of soup, "Are there onions in there?"

"No, I don't think so," I tell him, picking up the can to read the ingredients and leaning against the counter. Once I can confirm that there isn't any, I put it back down to look back at him, "Why? Don't you like onions?"