5sos One Shots

Ashton BSM - Christmas

~A/N~ I have. Mocks. SOON whyaminotrevising also I've decided I'm going to study English, French, History and Maths at A-Level which could end up a huge mistake
Enjoy the chapter!
Leila xx

Ashton (6):
Christmas in the Irwin family was always a special time. The shimmering Christmas tree, a neat line of four brightly coloured stockings hanging on the mantlepiece, dangling over a fireplace which burned long after you fell asleep. Matching pyjamas, laughter, cookies: magic.

And it was this magic that kept you wide awake on Christmas Eve, bouncing around in excitement despite your twin, Lauren, fast asleep in the bed on the other side of the room. The smell of snow hung in the air and you could still almost hear church bells.

A glass of milk and plate of gooey cookies lay on the table downstairs. It was for Santa Claus, and in the morning all your presents would be under the tree. Your toes wiggled as a thought crossed your mind: he could be in your house right now.

You were about to dismiss it when you could have sworn you heard a creaking floorboard. And now, come to think of it, you could definitely hear the clopping of reindeer hooves on the roof.

A little voice in your head told you to go back to sleep. Father Christmas wouldn't come if you were awake.

But he loved children! You'd always wanted to meet him.

There was a photo of your older brother, Ashton, on the mantlepiece from when he was little. You weren't born then, but his dimples and hazel eyes were the same ones you knew so well today. He was perched on Santa's knee, laughing in a huge fur coat, clinging to a giant arm clad in red.

If Ashton met him, surely you could too?

The time crawled by like a snail, and you still couldn't fall asleep. The thoughts bugged you, weighing up both sides of the argument, unable to reach a conclusion. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, you gave in to the temptation. The little blue alarm clock on your table, gifted by Luke last year, read 12:06am.

It was the witching hour.

A shiver passed through your body, curling your toes as you slipped them into fluffy slippers and gently crept downstairs. It was midnight, no one would be awake at this time. It was so far into the depths of night, you were sure every living person was asleep.

There was a light on in the living room. It must have been so that Father Christmas could see where he was going. That made sense.

And the plate of cookies was gone. The glass of milk was empty. A huge pile of presents towered under the tree.

Could he still be here?

"Santa?" you called out into the empty room. The fire crackled louder.

"Y/N?" a voice sounded from behind you, but it sounded significantly more boyish than you'd expected.

"Santa!" you whirled around, but the smile quickly dropped from your face. "Oh. It's you."

Ashton looked mildly hurt, but humour played behind his eyes. "What are you doing awake?"

"I wanted to come and see Santa! I heard him!"

"It looks like he just left," your brother sighed. "That's a shame."

Tears began to well up behind your eyes, and Ashton's tone quickly changed.

"Hey, it's ok! We can stay up all night next Christmas and wait!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Then we'll definitely see him."

"Promise?"

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "Promise. Now, let's go to bed."

You stifled a yawn as Ashton took your hand and gently pulled you up the stairs, tucking you in quietly so as not to wake Lauren up.

"Merry Christmas, Ashton."

"Merry Christmas, Y/N."