1:35 am ✧ Lashton

Tears

This chapter is gonna to be long and it's gonna be good

Song:
Terrible things - Mayday Parade

Wednesday May 11th, 2016

Luke's pov

I had woken myself up when hearing my alarm clock come from behind the bathroom door. I raised my heavy head and clambered to my feet, thankful that nobody found me.

I had slept most of the rest of the day and I was on my phone until late at night. I awaited the time in the morning I looked forward to the most. The time when I talked with Ashton about my day and about life.

I had so much to talk about this time.

And hopefully Ashton would actually be there.

The clock was at 1:31 and I jumped up and put on a hoodie and some sweatpants, making sure all of my scars were covered. The scars healed extremely quick and I was astonished by the lack of pain. I must've not gone too deep.

Realization hit and I understood that Ashton wouldn't be there. After all of this, he will not be waiting for me. He hates me. I sat back down on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

Almost on cue, tapping came from the other side of my window. I rushed to my window and took a deep breath. I unlatched the cool metal and raised the glass. Ashton was sat on his roof and I was looking out of the window, surprised Ashton was out so early before me. I was surprised he was even here.

He was looking down at his hands and had on no shirt. His skin had paled and he looked lanky. He looked up and I saw his face. His cheekbones were more defined than ever and his eyes were sunken in and he just looked hollow. This wasn't right. This wasn't my Ashton.

My Ashton had tawny skin and muscular biceps that held me the nights that I cried. My Ashton had a vibrant face with eyes that could melt the sun in one glance.

My Ashton didn't have a scar that led from the top of his chest, to his waist.

"Ashton. Where were you yesterday?" I asked, not wanting to be weak anymore.
"What is that scar?"
Ashton wouldn't answer me.
"Ash?"
No answer.
He only stood up and took my hand, nodding his head towards his window.

We climbed through and landed on his floor. Out of all of the times in these 3 months that Id seen his room, this one was different. It didn't scream ASHTON.

It looked lonely, as if it hadn't been touched for days. The only illumination in the room was a small desk lamp that colored a corner of the room. "Sit." Ashton ordered me in a very small voice. I sat down on his bed and he did nothing but sit in his desk chair. His bare chest heaving.

I wanted answers and that was the only thing that I wasn't getting.

"Ashton. Where were you?" I asked.

Still no answer.

"Ashton! Talk to me, I'm your best friend!" I raised my voice.

Ashton cracked. His voice was raised and his long fingers were tightened in a fist that he quickly released.

"I don't want you to be my best friend!" He cried, finally speaking up. "I never wanted you to be my best friend! I saw the new pretty blonde neighbor and had to say something! I didn't want to be your friend. I wanted you to be mine."

I thought on his words. Wasn't much to think about. Of course something was always off with us. Friends weren't supposed to act the way we did. Platonic friends can hug and hold hands. Friends weren't supposed to have to go through the Skinny Love that Ashton and I have experienced.