terrible things - ashton irwin

forteen

This is such a cute chapter so I thought for this chapter the song is Merry Happy by Kate Nash :)

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"I'm standing on Tom Cruise," Ashton yelled. "Take my picture!"

"You're on his star, Scalawag," I said. But I snapped the photo anyway: hazel-eyed Ashton, handsome as any movie star, dressed like a 80s rock band member. Even in Southern California he couldn't give up the beanie.

We were fresh off the Cal-Am racetrack, still hopped up on the experience. Hollywood was a hop, skip and a jump up the 110 for Torrance, so that's where we went next.

Of course we had to go straight to the Walk of Fame. While Ashton ogled the street performers, I dashed around taking photos of the names I knew and loved: Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, James Dean...and, okay, Drew Barrymore and Jennifer Aniston because it's the twenty-first century, people, and not all good movie are in back and white.

"This place is nuts," Ashton said, hopping over Snow White's star. "Look, now I'm on top of a fairy tale."

Then I turned, and together we walked up Highland Avenue, toward the golden Hollywood Hills and the giant, iconic white sign. Our destination: the Hollywood Hotel. Ashton didn't know it, though, bes aye I wanted to peek surprising him. The delight on his face, the way this eyes went wide when he was taken aback, I wanted to keep seeing that for as long as I possibly could.

The fact that we would be alone together in a hotel room had nothing to do with my decision.

When ashore saw me striding up to the reservation desk, he said, "Do we have enough money for this?"

I wasn't sure if we did, but it didn't matter. "My back can't take another night in the car, and I am not camping out with those shirtless dudes I was in the park."

"I thought that guy with the python looked nice," Ashton joked. "But hey, I'm down with creature comforts. Are we gonna get room service."

I shook my head. " Nice try," I said.

We rode the mirrored elevator to the fifteenth floor in silence. We didn't meet each other's eyes, either in Persian of in out reflections. Did Ashton feel shy, the way I suddenly did? I didn't know, because i couldn't look at him.

A minute later, we opened a door into a spacious cream-coloured room, with a giant flat-screen TV, floor-to-ceiling windows, a little seating by area, and one giant boat of a a bed.

I felt my breath catch in my throat. Ashton and I had slept in a night, as close together as spoons. And this bed was a stupidly huge that we could be either side of it and not touch at all. And yet- it felt more intimate.

I went to the sink to wash my face. In the mirror was a girl I hardly recognised. For one thing I desperately needed a shower. For another, she looked...well, wild was the word that came to mind. I met her now dull looking green eyes and smiled faintly at her. Who are you? What do you want? I mouthed. But she only offered me that strange smirk.

When I came out of the bathroom, Ashton was already in bed, though it was barely after eight. He WA sweating an ancient looking Nirvana T-shirt and pressing buttons on the remote. The TV was on but muted. 

"Lavender Moore," he said, smiling at me, the blue light from the blue light  flickering on his handsome face.

"Ashton," I said, barely above a whisper.

"What do you want to do now?" He asked.

I almost cracked up. That was the question to end all questions, wasn't t?

For a moment I stood there, caught between the hallway and the bed, between dear and desire. On one hand, I wanted to sink into Ashton. Reach my fingers into his hair. Feels his lips on my neck. Hold his smooth skin close against mine.

But then I thought of the dream is had among the redwoods- how something could be both perfect and terrifying, both mountain and abyss. What was the right thing to do?

"Hey, look," Ashton said suddenly, his voice brightening.

"It's Puss in Boots."

Just like that, the tension in the air snapped. We loved that movie, even though it's for kids. Ashton insisted- I think seriously -that it was Antonio Banderas' best role.

So the fuzzy orange cat with big boots and the Spanish accent banished my questions and doubts until the other day. I crawled under the covers next to Ashton. The sheets were silky white and smelled like bleach. I took w deep breath, and I scooted right up against his side. Then I tipped my head onto his shoulder.

Ashton seemed to stiffen. I froze, too. My heart sank in my chest, and my eyes closed in shame. Had I read the whole situation so wrong? I told myself I would count to five and then pull away to the far side of the bed.

But then I felt Ashton's body shift. He curved towards me. And he leaned down and kissed the top of my head. Under the covers, his hand found mine. Our fingers intertwined.

That's enough, I thought. That's all I need. For now.

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word count - 918

AHHH the end of this chapter will be the death of me! I hope you enjoyed this now they are becoming closer!

Charlotte xxx