Sorry for the three POV changes in this chapter. I usually do not change the point of view mid-way through a chapter, but it was needed. Each event in the different point of views is important, but not long enough to make a full chapter. Thank you!
~Ashton's POV~
"Listen to me, Ashton," Michael demanded over the phone. "I need you to check on her. Please."
"But why, Michael?" I walked towards the living room.
"I don't think she has improved any. I'm pretty sure she's only fallen deeper. I promised I wouldn't come around, so I need you to. I just need to know if she's okay," Michael's voice seemed broken.
"Michael," I sighed as I tied my shoe laces, "she isn't okay. She hasn't been for the past two years."
"I just need to know how she is doing," he whispered.
"Okay," I closed my front door, "I'll call soon."
"Oh, and Ashton," Michael spoke, "check her wrists for me. Thighs and hips, too-if it's not to awkward."
I decided not to ask him why, "Ugh, yeah mate. Sure! I'll call you back. See ya!"
I began walking the short five minutes to Mrs. Gallagher's house. When I knocked on the door, CeCe answered, "Hey!"
I kissed her lightly, "I'd love to talk right now, but I'm here to talk to Emma. Michael wants me to check up on her."
"I hope you weren't coming with high expectations," CeCe sighed and began to lead me up the stairs.
CeCe knocked on Emma's door, "Emma, someone is here to talk to you."
"I swear if it's-" Emma stopped and stared at me.
"We need to talk," I spoke in a demanding tone.
"I'll leave you two alone then," CeCe went back downstairs.
As I closed Emma's bedroom door behind me, I was hit with a strong stench of cigarette smoke. I sat on her bed as she sat at her windowsill, taking a drag from the cigarette in-between her fingers every minute or so.
"I thought you stopped," I bluntly spoke.
"What can I say," she sarcastically laughs, "I tend to do this after something is fucked up in my life. Why are you here anyways?"
"You know why I'm here."
She kept silent for awhile, until she brokenly whispered, "How is he holding up? By the looks of it, he's taking it okay."
"That's just a facade," I dismissed her thoughts. "He is miserable. You seem to be as well."
"I'm fine," she huffed, inhaling another puff of smoke.
"No, you're not," I quickly replied.
"How has his birthday been so far?"
"Pretty good, under the circumstances," I shrugged. "Did you get him anything?"
"Just a few little things," Emma stuck the cigarette into an ash tray net to her.
"You should give them to him tonight," I suggested. "We are having dinner at 7:30. The Clifford house."
"I'll think about it," she stood from the windowsill.
"How are you?" I asked. "And give me a legit answer."
"Fucking miserable," she sat on the bed next to me.
"Very detailed," I nodded.
"Idiot," she mumbled, "you wanna really know how I am doing? Fine, truth is I've stopped with the antidepressants. They don't do anything anyways. I've picked up smoking again. Did I mention that I've found a new love for vodka?"
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Stories In The Morning, But Legends Tonight| m.g.c
Fanfic{Book 2} He was like a summer breeze; one minute he was there-the next, he was gone. He was like the autumn leaves; falling unexpectedly. He was like the winter freeze; feeling cold and lifeless, but still holding a flicker of warmth. He was like t...
