Hideous (Andley)

Hideous

"Would it kill you to look at me?" Ashley heaved out in a heavy sigh, sitting across the room from the man sitting on the floor in the opposite corner.
Andy shrugged, toying with a pen that the orderly had given him for his drawings.
"Why? Even if I did you wouldn't look me in the eyes. What's the point?" Andy scoffed bitterly, but beneath that bitterness, and beneath that expression of irritation, laid layers, and layers of hurt, pain, and self pity.

Ashley said nothing. He knew the sickly looking man was right. Although Andy was sickly looking, he was still beautiful. Somehow. His skin was as white as paper, but his cheeks were still a tiny bit rosy. His lips were chapped, but still plump and pink. His cheeks were slightly sunken in, but he was still an image of beauty. Or was Ashley's perception of beauty just twisted? Did his love for the sick man hinder his ability to see straight; to think clearly? Rationally?

Ashley couldn't bring himself to look at the man that was once full of life; full of love, joy, and adventure. His skin was once a beautiful porcelain, eyes a gorgeous blue, and smile radiant and cheerful. Andy was once beautiful inside and out.

Now he was just... cold. Physically and emotionally. He was so snappy, he was either dull and gloomy, or furious and rabid with bitter anger.
"Why did you put me in here, Ashley..." Andy's voice was shaky and pitiful.
Ashley closed his eyes. "You're sick, Andy."
"I'm not sick!" Andy snapped almost immediately, the pitiful tone of voice becoming scarily harsh.

Ashley sighed and leaned forward, finally willing himself to make eye contact with the man in the corner. Andy was slumped in the corner, wearing a baggy pair of sweat pants that covered the top of his bare feet, and a long grey sweater. His hair was near shoulder length and frizzy. He looked like he hadn't slept in months, and his eyes... his eyes were a horrifying shade of deep crimson, laced with a malicious red. This was his lover. This was the man he had fallen in love with long ago, but unfortunately the universe didn't seem to enjoy their happiness together.

Andy had fallen ill.

Not a regular illness, though, unfortunately. Not a mental illness, either, although in some ways it could be considered one. There was a plague, of sorts, going around LA. An epidemic, one would call it, but it wasn't particularly deadly, and it wasn't particularly dangerous. It was vampiric in that sense it provided some 'superhuman' abilities, such as oddly large amounts of strength and speed. But they didn't drink blood, oddly enough. Nothing else has been observed, so far. The illness hadn't been given a name, nor had it received a specific diagnosis, cure, or any certain methods of treatment, for that matter. One other thing that had been observed, however, was the range of severity. People who seemed to have more range of emotion seemed to have more... severe effects. Andy was one of those people. His pent up anger and frustration was increased severely to the point he got violent, and it broke Ashley's heart.

Andy was getting better at containing his anger... And then he got infected. All that hard work for nothing, it seemed. 

Ashley's only choice was to institutionalize him. He couldn't risk it... Ashley couldn't even bring himself to tell Andy, so he made sure he was out of the house when Andy got taken away. It broke his heart tremendously, despite the fact he did it because he loved Andy more than he could ever explain... His sweet little baby had become a monster of emotion and rage, and it was scary, but he loved him.

Andy had been there for nearly a year now.

The sad, sick man gazed at the tallies scratched on the front cover of his notebook and huffed. Too many to count, but he knew it had been too long. He didn't understand why Ashley kept him here. Did Ashley hate him? Who he had become? What he had become?
If he did, then why did he visit almost daily...?
Slowly, Andy laid down on the ugly, scratchy carpet and stared at the dull ceiling. "Ashley?" He sighed.
Ashley rubbed his eyes. "Yes, Andy?"
His head turned to the side. "Do you love me?"

Ashley's body seemed to slump a little at the question; he seemed conflicted.
After a minute or two of silence, he finally responded.