The Boy Who Loved Flowers

eleven | b e g

excuse my absence on wattpad! i've just been doing the usual - procrastinating everything. so. xx

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YESTERDAY'S FIGHT HAD not yet vanished, still lingering about the hallways and pouring out of my peer's mouths. It had all come as an annoyance at this point, and I would've figured everyone else would agree but I seemed to be the only person to think that. Even Kiera had been caught up with investigating the fight - which I assumed was for my sake, as I couldn't get my mind off Ashton, and Ashton alone. I was admittedly hurt that he had pushed me away.

By eighth period of the second day, drama had hit an all time high and teachers were thrown for a loop on what to do. I couldn't blame them - no one, and I do mean no one could find the real reason why the fight had even started.

I sat impatiently in history, apprehension deluding my mind and redirecting me into silly thoughts and worries rather than the muddled mess that was Mr. Reed's lecture. I knew better than to daydream in a class I was failing, but then again was it really daydreaming if the scenarios in my head were most likely true?

I could only imagine that, right now, Ashton was either facing charges for assault - or vise versa. That, perhaps, he was currently being expelled and finding another school to go to. Or that he was running away from his problems and hiding out with Piper and Jasper.

Despite that I did really believe Ashton not in this school, every time I heard the door of the class creak, I found myself turning around in hopes that he would be stepping in with a cocky smile and eyes filled with the purest of silver.

To say the least, it didn't happen.

Discouraged, and faintly annoyed, I moved in a sloth-like manner when the bell rang, earning me puzzled looks from Lawrence who didn't bother to question me.

I leisurely exited the room, becoming aware of the frustration that creased my facial features unpleasantly. Frankly, I was more fixated on dawdling the entire way to class instead of focusing on how I looked or getting to class on time.

In fact, I had become so tardy at the moment that the halls were cleared with not even a teacher around!

Turning the corner, two hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me into the lockers with a rough and unwanted force.

"What in the he-!" I began to exclaim, my books falling before my feet as my back shoved against the lockers behind me. My voice caught as my eyes shot upward, landing on the bruised face of Ashton.

I shook my head slightly in shock, choking on my words and racking my brain for anything to say. My tongue seemed to be trapped, my lips parting in loss of words. "I-Uh, um... you..."

"I-Uh, um... you...?" He mimicked hoarsely, the gray of his eyes tracing my face. He hadn't let go of my shoulders, and it seemed as though his grasp was tighter than before.

"You're hurt," I finished lamely, throwing caution to the wind and raising up a hand to touch his wounded face. My fingers landed on his lips, only applying slight pressure as his mouth came to a tight line - whether in surprise, dislike or both I couldn't say.

"Yes," Ashton chuckled, causing my fingers to move and run along his jaw curiously, "I was before."

"That you were," I chewed on the inside of my cheek, recalling the day I had invited him to my house. He was less hurt, though the marks looked just as painful, and had brought me flowers.

Ashton's hands removed themselves from my shoulders, the left finding its way on the locker beside my head and the other hanging loosely by his hip. He was silent for a moment, leaving me to drop my hand to my side and stare into his eyes.

"Ashto-?" I began to say, though he cut me off.

"I hurt you, didn't I?"

"Well, yes, my knees," I responded quietly, seeing as his eyes dulled and the corners of his mouth fell to the slightest degree. Quickly, I added on, "I'm alright though! It was just my knees, but..."

"But?" Ashton questioned, his features looking more intense than before. He seemed excited to, I don't know, say sorry in anyway he could.

"I feel like I need an explanation," I decided, running a hand through my hair exasperatedly.

"No," he shook his head, once again his mouth formed a tight line.

"Wha-? Why not?" I stamped my foot like a disgruntled child, frowning as I did. "Don't I deserve it? You ran out on me when you were supposed to be helping, I went to stop the fight and you pushed me away! And, might I add, you seem to want me around, so doesn't that warrant some sort of explanation?"

"Aren't you late for class?" Ashton dismissed my mini rant, his eyes darting the side as he slowly reeled his body away from mine. Suddenly, I was aware of how close we were only seconds ago. Oddly enough, I missed the sensation of his heat.

"Just tell me!" I tried to return the subject, aware that I was now begging. "Please! Do you not trust me? Don't you dare bring up class!"

Then, he kissed me, pressing me against the lockers and kissing me in such a way the rhythm of his lips matched the frantic pulse of my heart. It felt rash and dismissive, enjoyable but painful all at once.

Just as I began to return the kiss, he pulled away with an unsettled smirk. "Get to class, sweetheart."

And with that, Ashton turned on his heels and strode off down the hallway. I was stumped, even more frustrated, and had the unreasonable ache to chase after him.