There is nothing but sirens ringing in my ears as I approach the 7-Eleven later that same night, an odd whistle sounding as the wind amplifies the high-pitched shrieks. It carries the ear-splitting noise through the trees and the blinding red-and-blue police lights flicker through the forest.
Instantly regretting my decision to walk instead of driving my car, I slowly begin to back away--not like it would matter if I walked any faster anyways. I am completely hidden by the non-lit street lamps and trees surrounding me that I doubt anyone would find me.
Still, I don't know what's going on, and I'm not stupid enough to travel further and try to find out.
I doubt Ashton is here, either; he seems like the type to flee any sort of crime scene, or at least stand by at a good distance. He wouldn't wait for the police to show up even if he was a witness, let alone stick around long enough to become a suspect.
I'm about to give up trying to find Ashton and go home when I hear leaves in a nearby bush faintly rustle as I pass.
At first I think I have imagined it; how could a tiny sound like that stand alone among the sirens?
But then I hear it again, along with a faint voice, and I instantly freeze.
"Psst, Nickels."
I turn in the direction of the bush and soon am able to make out Ashton and his gorgeous hazel eyes peering out from me from the hunter green bushes, his nearly out-of-control curls pushed back by his bandanna.
It's a paisley-printed grey one today, one that―once again―compliments his skin tone, eye color, and honey-blond curls.
I guess every color works on him; after all, it would make sense. He's just too cute not to have style work his way.
"God, Irwin, you scared me." I breathe out a sigh of relief as Ashton smirks, clearly satisfied. "Hey, you changed your bandanna!"
"Really? That's the first thing you say to me?" He whines, reaching out to grasp my arm.
"Actually, second, but―"
Before I can process what's happening, soon I see nothing but the inside of Ashton's hiding place, the bush. I feel a faint prick on the back of my spine, my right calf, and my left elbow from the scratchy bristles. I wince as my vision readjusts, and finally I can just barely make out Ashton squatting down before me.
"Irwin, what are you―"
"Duck down." He whispers, tugging on my arm again.
I quickly obey, not needing to be told twice. I fold my legs in the same position as his, eyes in a direct line to Ashton's, my face closer to his.
"That's better." He smirks, one hand carving a pathway for us to see outside and the other still on my arm.
He lets go and I exhale, releasing another breath. There was something oddly comforting about Ashton's touch, something I realized the moment he let go.
"Sorry about the sirens." He apologizes quickly once we're both on the same level, his voice still hushed. "I―"
"No, you don't have to apologize. It's not your fault." I say automatically, trying to weed out Ashton's voice from the police car's still-wailing sirens.
"Actually, it is." Ashton sucks in his dimples. "I may or may not have broken in and stole the majority of 7-Eleven's finest cigarettes."
"Ashton!" I can't help but gasp, he instantly widens his eyes.
"What?"
I pause, eyes still wide with shock. "I-I don't―God, what's your middle name?"
