Half Hearted

Chapter Twenty Three

| Ash |

As usual, Ash's head pains were back, thanks to his doses of whiskey the previous night.

He rubbed the sides of his temples, trying to ease the pain away just a little bit. Noticing he was still in his jeans, he pulled his shirt over his head and looked around the room.

He remembered everything last night, from the miniature bar to the moment with Teresa, but now he was sober enough to actually take in his surroundings. He guessed that they were at her old house - the one she actually grew up in.

It was the typical 'perfect family' house, and he headed outside, smelling the pancakes as he walked down the stairs.

Teresa wasn't around the dinner table yet, and he found himself awkwardly standing there, scratching the back of his neck until he got noticed by the lady in the apron. "Hi there," she greeted, urging him to sit at the table. "Ash was your name?"

He nodded his head, taking a seat in front of the man reading a newspaper. He acknowledged Ash with a nod, and continued to read the newspaper.

The lady - Teresa's mom - set a plate full of pancakes in front of him, and handed him a fork. He thanked her, famished from all that he'd puked up.

Since none of them were asking any questions, Ash presumed that Teresa had already told them everything that happened. And he didn't know how to feel.

Was he portrayed like his usual self? Because if so, her parents would've been treating him much differently than they were now.

"You're already up?" Teresa yawned, grabbing the chair beside him. She was in her purple pyjamas, pineapples found all over it.

Ash nodded his head, taking a sip of the coffee her mother had given him. "I presume you're going to take the Sunday bus?" The woman asked, taking off her apron and joining them at the table.

"Right, I forgot to tell you," Teresa turned to him. "Riel had to leave for his kids, and since my car's still at your hotel, we're stuck here until the Sunday morning bus."

He took out his phone from his pocket and noticed that he had many, many missed phone calls. "I-uh-I'll be outside," he excused himself, finding the way out of the house.

Ash saw that the messages and the missed calls all came from Peter. Giving a loud sigh, he called his manager. "You knob."

"Great to know you've missed me," Ash rolled his eyes, staring out at the cars rolling by on the highway.

"Don't worry, Teresa already explained everything to me while you were piss drunk. You best be thankful that you had nothing this weekend."

"She did? What did she say?"

Ash could hear Peter's grin from the other end of the line. "What would she say? You were mad on your heels, and she had to take care of you alone. Step up your game, lad. You ain't winning her over by being a tool. Anyways, I've gotta get to iHop with Maudie. Enjoy your break with Teresa."

Peter hung up, leaving Ash in no position to defend himself. He grunted in annoyance. That man was way over his head, thinking he could act like Cupid.

Ash headed back inside.

When they finished eating, he found himself having to wash the dishes. And since he had never done any chores in his whole life, he stood there - dumbfounded.

Teresa saw his mishap and stood beside him in front of the sink. Seeing that she was getting her hands wet, Ash made a move to leave her to it, but she stopped him from doing so. "Nope. You're doing this with me."

"I...I wouldn't know what to do," he shrunk, losing a little bit of his ego.

Teresa smiled a little, and lifted the tap, letting the water flow through her hands. She guided him, teaching him which dish to soap first, and chuckling as he poured too much soap on the cloth. The sink soon became a frothy mess.

"You knob," she softly giggled, trying to mimic Peter, "you're supposed to wash it off now."

They shared a laugh as he set down the bubbly cloth and started washing the mug. From the corner of his eye he watched her laugh.

And then his stomach started to flutter.

It was as if the whole world had stopped - a stoplight flashing only on the two of them.

And then it kept moving again, and he remembered why he was at her house in the first place.

He was a mess, and he didn't know how to fix himself.

| Teresa |

No, no, no, I thought to myself. You can't. Not him. Out of all the people in the world, he's not the right one for you.

I couldn't deny the feelings I was getting. My heart felt fluttery, as if everything around me suddenly brightened up to a whole new set of colours.

Right after we finished drying the dishes, I ran upstairs to get changed. Of course, I actually was going to change from my pyjamas, but for a minute I just sat on my bed trying to comprehend everything.

He's still in love with his ex, you idiot. Do you really think you'd have a chance?

I shook the thoughts from my head and tried to get my heart back to its normal pulse.

This whole week I'd been having thoughts that made me feel like I was going crazy. And all of them had one thing in common - Ash.

I changed into a pair of jeans and a hoodie, and then tied my hair up and went downstairs. Ash was patiently sitting on the couch, looking at the pictures on the shelves.

"Hey, I'm going to grab some milk from the store, want to come with?" I asked him, grabbing my winter coat from the closet. It was freezing outside.

"I have nothing else to do," he shrugged, getting up and walking to the door without bothering to put on an extra layer.

"It's minus thirty out, do you really think you're going to survive in that?"

Again he shrugged, still holding on to the fashion ideals of 'beauty over pain.' So I grabbed the jade green coat, looking tall enough to go past his waist, and gave it to him. "I don't need it."

Pursing my lips together, I opened the door and let him see the weather outside for himself. "We don't have paparazzi in this town. Loosen up. You'll need this coat because the store is about a two kilometre walk from here."

So he took it from my hands, after a few more seconds of hesitation, and finally wore it. But then his zipper got stuck, and he looked like a toddler struggling to tie their shoelaces for the first time. "Here, I'll do it."

He let his hands fall to their sides as I unzipped the coat and tried zipping it up again. It got stuck and my hand flew up and almost hit him on the chin. We chuckled at - what could have been - a minor accident, and I looked up and saw his dimples.

And then I looked further up and saw his eyes. They were so blue my eyes could have drowned.

After he broke eye contact and awkwardly coughed, I noticed how close our faces were. Even though he towered in height, I was on my tippy toes, trying hard to zip up the coat.

I stepped back instinctively, letting him finishing zipping the last part himself, and headed out the door.

My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Great job, my thoughts screamed at me, you're losing your mind.