Ashton Enchanted » [cashton] √

1.1

Ashton had the sneaking suspicion that Luke had been playing matchmaker the past couple of weeks. He and Calum had just happened to end up sat next to one another more often than not, and semi-regularly the others would disappear, and it would be only the two of them. He supposed if he were normal, it would be sweet, and maybe he'd be flattered, excited even, but he wasn't normal, and the flip flops in his stomach weren't just butterflies, they were crashing waves of fear, reinforced by what he liked to imagine was a tiny little Kraken that lived in his belly and pulled his strings.

That's always where the commands felt like they kicked in so as a little kid he'd invented the idea that a monster lived in his tummy and made him do things. He knew that wasn't true, but it was still the only image he could muster of the curse in his mind. He often imagined the little Kraken smashing boats against the walls of his stomach, or with long clean swipes straight down the middle. It was silly, but it made him a little more empathetic toward himself sometimes, it was easy to forget that it was all out of his control, that he wasn't somehow doing this to himself.

Right now, though it wasn't much comfort, as the horrifying ideas of what might happen if he got too close to people played over and over in his mind. He'd never be able to forgive them if they made him do something he couldn't take back. Murder, sex, drugs, hurt someone who didn't deserve it, hurt someone he cared about, so many of the things people said in the spur of the moment, even as a joke could change the course of Ashton's life forever.

Of late he'd tried to push the thoughts to the back of his mind, and just enjoy having friends, but the more the others pushed him toward Calum, the harder it became to pretend he wasn't playing with fire.

"Are you sure you've tried everything?" he asked, trying to keep the whine out of his voice as he handed handing his mother the bag of grated cheese.

She let out a long sigh, and put the bag down, "I told you, I've tried everything under the sun to get in contact with her. I've prayed, I've googled, I've gone to mystics, you name it; I've done it. I hate having to tell you this, trust me, I do. I want to be able to tell you that it'll go away, and I can fix it, but you're practically an adult now, and you're going to want to go partying, and to university and maybe even move away. And I can't stop you, but- well I just want you to be realistic," tears were tracking down her cheeks. She was so clearly trying to hold it together, trying to blink back the next wave of tears and Ashton's heart clenched.

"I- I've never thought it was going to go away, I just wanted to make sure. I'm going to apply to Sydney universities anyway, don't worry about it," He sighed, moving forward to wrap his arms around her. "Don't worry mum, I'm happy to stay here with you," he pressed a kiss into the side of his mother's head and felt her shake as she sobbed into his shoulder.

They stayed silent as he rubbed a reassuring hand over her back, the tears continuing to stream, but now they wet Ashton's thin t-shirt as they went. He wanted to be mad at her, to yell and scream, this wasn't fair, why him? But he knew it wasn't anybody's fault, especially hers, all she'd ever done was try and protect him.

He realised as he stood patting her back and mopping her tears, that all the time he'd spent feeling alone, knowing that he couldn't share his burden with anyone. She'd probably been doing the same, wishing someone would come along with answers or even just a little understanding. All the while, she kept searching high and low for a solution for him.

He could even tell she'd really thought she might be able to fix this, and his heart was aching for them both. For her naivety, and by extension the heartbreak it was causing her as she realised that there was no fixing this. And for himself, realising how jaded he was, he'd given up so long ago that he'd assumed she had too.

When he'd gone to bed that night, he'd barely slept. No tossing or turning, just staring at the ceiling, a weight hanging over his shoulders, telling him that maybe- no definitely, there was definitely something broken inside him. He cried silent tears and prayed that the next day would bring some sort of miraculous distraction from the ache that was manifesting inside him, one he grew more and more afraid would never leave him.