Burn ▹ Ashton Irwin

ten

AN: this chapter is kind of long but shit goes down

-

"Hey," I heard Ashton's voice beside me, and the feeling of his finger jabbing into my ribs. "Wake up."

His harsh tone and quite forceful poke made my eyes blink open, and I noticed myself still slumped in the passenger seat of the car, with my head resting on my hand. I tried to lift my head up, but my fingers were all tangled in my hair, and my neck muscles screamed in pain. Ashton poked me again, and I groaned.

"Stop it," I said. "I'm awake."

"Glad to get your beauty sleep, sweetheart?" Ashton's voice scoffed beside me. I dragged my eyelids open and detangled my fingers from my hair, tunring my head to glare at him. I was most definitely not in the mood to be up this early, even though I had no idea what time it was.

"Well, I wouldn't call it beauty sleep," he cocked an eyebrow at me, obviously hinting to my messy hair and the probable bags under my eyes.

"Would you stop being such a dick." I asked, even though it sounded a lot like a command. I glanced over to the clock, to see that it actually wasn't early at all.

"How am I dick," he said harshly. "When I let you sleep until noon."

"Oh," I said awkwardly, reading the little numbers on the clock. He was right, it was 12:00 PM. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he rolled his eyes, pushing his door open and hoping out. "Literally, don't mention it."

"Don't worry," I sighed. "I won't."

I turned my head to look out the window, to see that we were parked outside of a new motel, in a brand new place. I remember Ashton saying we were going to Cleveland, which is yet another place I've never been to. I stepped out of the car and looked around our surroundings, and it looked just like the other two places we've already been to. Generic ghettos, as stupid as that sounds to say.

I do remember a lot from last night, it being a very frightening way to really see how much people must despise Ashton. I mean, I know he's a pretty mean guy...but what could he had possibly done to make so many crazy ass people want to shoot him? Honestly, they had actual guns, and they surely didn't seem afraid to fire some bullets. I'm not saying these bullets would necessarily go to me, because I sure as hell haven't done anything wrong. As Ashton and Derek had said so many times...everyone hates him. Why is that? There's got to be a specific reason, but knowing Ashton he'll probably never tell me.

It's annoying that he won't tell me a single thing about him. And as I tiredly followed him up the steps to yet another gross motel room, my sleepy and angry eyes were glued to his back as I thought more about the concept. If we're gonna be spending all this fucking time together against our wills, we might as well get to know each other. I'm just curious, you know? He could secretly be an interesting guy, and everyone knows how much I crave some interesting things in my life. I'm not saying this whole "mission" isn't interesting...because it really is. Like, running away from straight up criminals who want to shoot at us is pretty interesting...right? Yeah. Right.

I decided to get to the bottom of this, because for the past week or so I've felt nervous and uneasy whenever I was around him. I was getting pretty tired of it, because I've felt like I've only been talking to a blank wall. Well, not really talking...more like arguing with a blank wall. What, is he too obsessed with himself to even give me the aboslute priveledge to get to know him?

"What's with you?" I asked as I shut the door behind us. Ashton walked in and slumped down onto one of the beds and shut him eyes. To my luck, there were two beds in here. If there wasn't, I would've had another silent and nervous breakdown. The only good thing that came out of leaving Pittsburgh so quickly, was that I didn't have to share a bed with him. That would've been extremely awkward.