The Boy Who Loved Flowers

eight | l i l i e s

i actually laughed at the ending of this chapter. (not completely revised but i felt inclined to give you guys an update).

anyway, maybe you guys can help me out and share this with people? thank you, x.

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I'LL ADMIT, I wasn't surprised to see Ashton with bruises running along his sharp jaw, nor the purple outlining his left eye like ink spilled on paper. His lower lip was split, swollen and widening as a cocky smirk framed his sculpted lips. He ran a hand through his disheveled bleach blonde hair, raising it up as he did.

"Come in." I gestured inside, motioning to the couch as I did. I didn't care that my house was a mess with it's shattered picture planes or rumpled up throw pillows.

Ashton nodded, then thrusted a bouquet of white lilies into my hands. As I stared down at the flowers in puzzlement, he walked past me and sat down at the couch without a single word.

"Wha-" I began, quirking both eyebrows. I was stupefied with his courteous action.

Ashton merely shrugged at my baffled state, but drew his eyebrows together. "I already cut them at a 45 degree angle. Keep them out of sunlight. You should know the rest."

Both of my cheeks raised in a smile, "Oh. That's not what I wa- never mind. Thank you."

He waved a dismissive hand, as if my thanks weren't necessary. I'm suddenly stumped, I didn't know what to say. I resided to the obvious, twirling my index finger around his face as I sat down next to him. "What happened to you?"

I knew the answer - well, sort of. I leaned back into the couch, putting a hand to my mouth as I awaited the story.

"Ah," Ashton slanted forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes focused on me, analyzing me with misgiving suspicion. His left hand subconsciously rubbed his bottom lip, his thumb making minuscule circles. "A lot."

"Oh don't be so general," I tsked, aware of how intrusive I was being. It was a bad habit, but it wasn't something I was inclined to put to a halt. I pulled on a pout, "Tell me? Please?"

"Why don't you tell me why you invited me here?" His then mocked me by pulling the same expression as I but quickly returned to his bumptious smile.

"I..." My voice trailed off, my gaze lowering to the burning candle that licked the air with a fiery tongue. My lips pursed, "I don't know."

"No?" Ashton's smile faded, molding into a thin line. The silver in his eyes dimmed to a stone gray, losing all expectation. I stared at him for a second, realization dawning upon me.

"Wh-Oh my god." I groaned, dropping my hands dramatically and slapped the couch.

"That's usually the case," Ashton murmured, no guilt in his voice. His eyes swept across my living room as he shrugged. "What happened here?"

I jabbed my pointer finger toward his face, "You still haven't answered my question."

"It's irrelevant," Ashton pointed out, "Does it matter?"

"To me it does," I answered, moving closer to him. "Seriously, tell me."

Ashton clenched his jaw, staring down at me as I rose my fingers to touch the bruises on his jaw. He didn't stop me, not even as I lightly ran them along his chin. "Well, I..."

"Well, you?" I mimicked his tone, grinning as my eyes met his narrowed ones. My hand froze in place as his own hand enveloped my fingers. Heat rose to my cheeks and I pulled my eyes to the ground.