The Therapist's Son // Ashton Irwin [AU] ✔

5.

"Are you deaf? What the fuck are you doing here?" He asked again, clearly upset. Hell, I couldn't blame him. I was supposed to be here for a therapist appointment, not to be sneaking around some stranger's room.

"I-I don't-"

"Do you always go snooping around during therapist appointments? What are you seeing a professional for, anyways? Issues with the move? Daddy problems? You didn't seem very willing to say much." I shook my head, biting my lip and looking down at my feet.

"And what the hell are you doing with this?" The photo frame was taken from me and placed back in it's original spot, and he let out a sigh - Of relief, maybe?

"Sorry, Ashton." I mumbled, and he looked at me, seeming to be caught off guard.

"How do you know my name?"

"Samantha from the coffee shop." I responded, picking at the dark blue polish on my nails. I had a lot of time on my hands recently, so I decided to paint them last night out of pure boredom.

"What else did she tell you?" I couldn't tell if he was angry or not, but if he was, it wasn't as bad as when he caught me in his room less than a few minutes before.

"Nothing," I said, willing myself to look up at him. "She didn't tell me anything that you wouldn't want me to know."

The room was silent for a minute or two, and I was suprised he hadn't demanded me to get out, or make another negative comment. The silence wasn't overwhelming or awkward to be completely honest. It was nice. I liked it.

"I'd better go, before my mom thinks I died in the bathroom." I said, going to walk past him. I gasped when his hand grabbed my upper arm just as I reached the doorway, not enough to hurt, but enough for me to know he wanted my attention again.

"Before you go, what's your name, Miss America?" He joked. Biting my lip, I forced my eyes to meet his. They weren't angry or hurt like I had seen several times before, but soft and curious. It was my turn to be caught off guard.

"M-My name?" I asked. Why did he want to know my name?

"Yes. You know mine, it's only fair that I know yours, too, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess." I said, shrugging in response.

"Okay, then. What is it?" He asked a second time.

"Natalie." I responded shyly, and he nodded, releasing my arm, before walking across the room to sit on his bed.

"Well, see you around, Natalie." I only nodded, before walking out into the hall, making sure to close the door behind me.

That was definately interesting.

*****

"Really, Natalie? Half an hour. You only had to suck it up and act your age for thirty minutes, and this is what you pull? God dammit, I'm trying to help you!" My mother seethed, eyes on the road. Clearly, the doctor had told her about my stubborn silence or angry remarks, and my mother wasn't happy about it at all.

"I told you I didn't need a therapist!" I nearly shouted. "What about this don't you understand? I can handle my own issues!" My mother slammed on the brakes and honked the horn as someone pulled out in front of us.

"Asshole!" She screamed, our situation also seeming to play a part in her act of road rage. She waited until they were over a lane before speeding past them, causing my breath to get stuck in my throat.

"M-Mom? Could you slow down a bit?" I stuttered, not liking the situation. She let out a sigh before applying pressure to the breaks, the speed dropping from around seventy to sixty-five, and then down to sixty.

"This is what I'm talking about, Natalie," She sighed, reaching over into the glove compartment for a tissue. I didn't even realize I was crying until she held it out for me to take. "You can barely even be in a five minute car ride without thinking about-"

"Don't," I commanded, wiping at my eyes and then nervously tugging at my sleeves. "You wouldn't understand."

"But she's someone who does, Sweetie. She sees cases like yours all the time. That's why we moved here. She's one of the best, and she only wants to help you. Why won't you let her help you?"

"How the fuck would she understand, Mom? No one does. You weren't there. She wasn't there. Dad wasn't there. It was me and Ashley. And Ashley didn't make it." My mother visably stiffed at the sound of my older sister's name, and I could swear I almost saw tears in her eyes, but she simply blinked and turned on a turn signal to turn onto our road.

"You shouldn't curse, Natalie." Was all she said, and I simply bit my lip and nodded.

She would never understand.

Who would?

*****

A/N: Short update, sorry, sorry. Um, ok, let's see here.

For starters, first actual conversation! Huh? Huh? Wink wink.

Do you guys think Natalie is beginning to spend too much time arguing with her Mom about the same things? I feel like they're fighting about therapy in every chapter. Hopefully that'll change once Ashton and Natalie start spending more time together.

Please vote! Small gesture, big difference!

Callie x