Breathe Me(Lashton)

t w ø

a/n: Poo is such a funny word I literally laughed when I read that last chapter.

I love the word poo omg

I'm so immature.
Written by:LashtonGiggles

Luke is almost shaking, the wind rips right through his jeans, the fact that they're holey doesn't help. "God, fucking shit." he mutters, wrapping his arms closely around his torso as he climbs the rickety wooden stairs to the better built, metal stairs, practically running to his home. His hands are shaking as he fumbles with his keys, the shaking movement too erratic to even place the key in the lock. He mumbles a string of profanities in frustration before he takes a deep breath, calming the shaking only a little, but enough so he could unlock the door.

"Hey, Luke." Calum chirps, a small smile could be seen from the angle Luke had on him. Luke still stood in the doorway, feeling something odd about just something in this apartment.

"What did you do?" he asks, slowly making his way in the kitchen, not sure what expect, anything from a trip wire making the whole place explode, to Calum making lunch and Calum never makes lunch.

"Making you a meal, is that so bad?" he asks, shoving a plate full of steaming pasta into Luke's hands.

"What did you do?" I repeat, averting my eyes from the delicious food making my stomach growl. Calum let's out a breath, the pit of his stomach filling with guilt as he looked upon Luke with teary eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Luke." Calum whispers, blinking rapidly, making salty tears travel down his tan cheeks. "I just couldn't help myself, a-and I knew where you hid them." Calum took a few steps back, afraid that Luke would be mad, afraid that Luke would leave him like his parents once did. Luke only stood there in confusion, wanting to reach out to his tan friend and tell him that it's alright, but he was still uncertain of what he was talking about. "I relapsed." Calum whispers, now standing on the opposite side of the kitchen as Luke. He was shocked, shocked and betrayed that Calum had broken his promise, but he doesn't dare let it show. "It was so bad." he mumbled, his feet finding each other rather quickly. He doesn't know what Luke is doing, he doesn't know if he left, if he is just standing there, or what. But he what does know is that he could use a hug. "I couldn't stop myself Luke, I just-" he stops when there's a warm body pressed against his own and sighs in relief, wrapping his arms around Luke and resting his chin on the blond's shoulder.

"It's okay, Cal. I understand that you cannot just quit like that." Luke mumbles in his ear, and Calum wants to just stay in Luke's arms for the rest of his life because they are so warm and forgiving and he's his best friend. His best friend that has always been there for him, he's helped him through his addiction which ended up screwing himself over in the end.

Calum had had an addiction to alcohol since he was thirteen, now nineteen he is trying to overcome it with Luke's helpBy the looks of it, his relapse must have been horrid. Luke has rarely see the boy in such a way as long as they had been friends, and he really really does not enjoy this side of him.

"How much?" Luke asks, not exactly positive he wanted to hear the answer, but Calum takes a breath and mumbles something inaudible into Luke's shoulder. "Can you repeat that Cal?" Luke mumbles softly, his voice trying to stay calm and collected.

"It was just like twenty or so minutes ago," he hiccups, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath. "A couple glasses, not enough to get me drunk." Calum mumbles, his voice shaking slightly. Luke can smell the alcohol on his friend and is surprised that he isn't drunk. The smell of the liquid is overpowering the overwhelming amounts of his cologne he must have sprayed on to try and hide the smell of alcohol. Calum was lying. No way the smell of alcohol could be that strong and him not get drunk.

Luke says nothing.

"Let's eat and watch movies." Luke mumbles softly and Calum nods, grabbing his own plate and following his magnanimous friend into their small living room, sitting closely together on the couch and eat their meal with an unknown movie playing in the background.

*

Ashton walks home as well, actually, he walks to a bus stop and the bus takes him home because he can't afford a car. So he walks through the chilly air, watching his breath puff out in front of him. His eyes are glued to the sidewalk, watching to make sure he doesn't slip on any ice as he walks down the empty path. Nobody's out at this time a day, even though it's almost noon, it's too chilly for what little parents there are to let their children out to play, and most adults have their own vehicle they can drive.

Ashton steps on the bus that is about to take him like four blocks away, and almost slips on the first step, but thankfully recovers. He sits in the seat exactly three rows back next to the window and finally decides to pull his hood over his head. He reapplies his earbuds but he plays his music a lot softer than he did before because even though he won't admit it, he likes the sounds of the bus. It makes him feel somewhat at home, the huffing and puffing of the bus trying it's hardest to make it up a steep hill, the squeak of the doors opening, and the sound of sloppy footsteps slouching their way to the back of the bus to avoid the embarrassment of their friends seeing them riding the city bus of all things. Ashton doesn't care who sees him; he really has no friends since he had just moved to the area.

He gets off of the bus precisely seven minutes later, he had been keeping track since he was very late for his show, America's Next Top Model, even though he recorded it. He likes to go and watch it as it's on so he doesn't read any spoilers when he gets on twitter. So he rushes into his little art studio apartment and turns on his small tv and sees it's already on the right channel and sits on his decent couch.

He has quite a hard time focusing on the show, his mind too busy going to the fact that he has sososo much work to do in two days for school, and that his phone just kept ringing and ringing and it was so fucking annoying. He didn't even think about answering it until they call again. It's an unknown number and he had almost forgot that he applied for a job earlier that day.

"Hello?" he answers just as his show comes to the end, elimination.

"Hey, this is Ashton right?" a familiar feminine voice asks.

"Yes, this is Sarah?" Ashton asks, his eyes watching the screen intently, hoping his favorite, Jenny, doesn't get sent off.

"That's right." her voice is small, unlike the Sarah he met in the shop. "I was just calling to let you know you got the job and you start tomorrow from seven thirty in the morning until two." she tells him, playing with the hem of her shirt as she lay on her couch comfortably.

"Great! I will be there." Ashton gives a toothy grin and gives a short goodbye before hanging up. Things are starting to look up for Ashton.

a/n:

Hiiii

Hii

HIIII

Idk what to say

Thanks again for accepting my awkward invite to collab Stephanieeeeeeee

Yep