5sos One Shots

Ashton BGM - Moving Along

~A/N~ School was a shitshow today let's be honest exams are over and the teachers have given up so we just watched films
Enjoy the chapter!
Leila xx

Ashton (22):
Is it bad that I'm hoping that you're broken?
Is it bad that I'm wishing you're still broken?
That you haven't found fish in the ocean
Is it bad? So bad

"If I can't have you, no one else can," Ashton blurted down the phone, swaying on the spot so he almost collapsed on the sofa. "And it's bad but I'm the only one who deserves you. The only one."

His words slurred together so he paused, but you didn't reply on the other end. Little did he know in his intoxicated mind that the phone had gone straight to voicemail, but it didn't bother him much. Ashton was perfectly prepared to cry down the phone to anyone, even better that you weren't answering.

"Let me tell you, Y/N," he stumbled and tripped over his own feet, letting out a giggle. "I know it's been a few months. Yeah. And we were both broken, and we've both had plenty of time to heal, but this wound's not closing over. And you know what I think?"

Silence, but he didn't care.

"I think I've got anaemia. That's what happens when your blood doesn't clot, right? No. Not right. That's platelets or something, I'm not sure. We don't need Biology in the music industry."

At this point, even Ashton was aware he was rambling, and desperately searched through his fuzzy brain to pick up where he began to digress.

"Anyway, what I'm saying is I'm hoping our love is anaemic. Yeah. I'm hoping you're also still broken and that you haven't found anyone, and I'm hoping you've been waiting a few months for this call and that this time you'll reply."

***
Is it wrong if I ask you to come over?
Is it wrong if I tell you that I love ya?
Even though I never do it when I'm sober
Is it wrong? So wrong

"Anyway, you're probably wondering what happened this time that made me call," Ashton moved on to the next section of his weekly voicemail - it had become routine. First he would make a big speech about how he was still broken, and then he would move on to why he was calling in the first place.

"Me and Calum went out to score some one night stands or something, I don't know. You know, you've really screwed me over, I used to love getting laid but not any more because it just reminds me of you. And that's not really fun." Ashton felt a fist pounding faintly in the back of his head, and a wave of nausea rolled over him but he ignored it.

"Anyway, Calum got annoyed that I was being all mopey so he went off to talk to girls, and I got a drink. Or maybe two or a few. But then Michael came with his pale face and he decided we were going, so then he took me back home and I commanded him to 'LEAVE'," he snorted with laughter. "And yeah, now I'm here.

"But what I really wanted to say was will you please come over? And we can talk and maybe that talking could lead to something else?" he paused suggestively. "Because I still love you, Y/N. A lot."

***
Thinking about you lots lately
Have you been eating breakfast alone like me?
Thinking about you lots lately
Or are you moving along?

You clicked the end call button with a sigh, allowing several tears to stream down your face. And the truth was, you did miss Ashton a lot; no one else could make you smile, or blush, or shake your head with false exasperation.

And cutting yourself off from him was like not only losing one part of yourself, but four. You could no longer have anything to do with the other three boys, with whom you had become so close, and it ripped you apart to hear their music everywhere and know that you couldn't cheer them on and support them anymore.

It had been a lonely few months, but you were slowly dragging yourself out of it. It had been painful to eat breakfast alone, and sleep in an empty bed in an empty house, but it would save you the pain of another breakup.

Because despite his heartbroken voice and pleading words, Ashton had been the one to end it. He had decided your relationship wasn't as important as the music and he had to focus on the band, and you weren't going to let him manipulate you into getting back with him. Even if it meant listening to a weekly voicemail begging you to go back to him.

You were moving along, not yet moving on but on your way down that road. And you could feel your heart getting lighter with every step you took, and sometimes it would be weighed down by Ashton's static cries but the wound was closing.

It made you scoff to use his terrible, incorrect drunken analogy, but maybe you were recovering from your anaemic love.

"It's not even anaemia," you whispered silently, before placing the phone down and blocking Ashton's number.

Time to move on.