Too Cliché

Chapter 4: Questionable

Ashton woke up the next morning with crusty eyes and a very dry nose from all the crying he had done. He wiped his eyes and threw the covers off of him so he could walk to the bathroom that was in his room next to the walk in closet. He turned the hot water on in the shower and let the steam fill the tiny bathroom. He stepped in and the water fell over his body making goosebumps form on his legs. He breathed in the thick steam while his muscles relaxed in the heat.

Michael tapped on Ashton's closed door. No answer.

"Ashton?" He called into the old mahogany door. "Come down stairs for breakfast."

Silence.

"Ashton..." He signed and began to walk away when he heard foot steps approaching the bedroom door rapidly. It swung open and a half naked Ashton stood in the door way, water droplets sliding down his bare chest. "Umm-uh..." Michael stuttered trying to keep his gaze on Ashton's face.

"What do you want?" Ashton mumbled as he turned back towards his room to lay clothes out for the day.

Hurt flashed in Michael's eyes. "Anne told me to get you for breakfast," he said locking his eyes to the ground.

Ashton turned and seeing Michael's sullen face, walked toward him, "I'm sorry...about yesterday," he said in a low voice. He placed his hand on Michael's shoulder trying to seem comforting. Ashton honestly didn't know what was going on between them but it was anything but normal.

Michael drug his head up so he could stare directly in Ashton's eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for," Michael let his voice drain of all energy, "I should learn to hold my tongue."

With that Michael turned and left Ashton standing in his bedroom doorway shocked again while Michael's words hung in the air.

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Anne Marie sat at the kitchen table sipping her coffee as Paul set out the dishes and placed big bowls full of food. From where Anne was sitting you could look out the tall French doors to see all the way out to the giant wear houses that sat upon the hill overlooking all the land.

Michael made his way down the stairs into the dinning room which opened wide into the kitchen separated by a small bar. He hung his head and watched his feet shuffle to the table.

"He'll be down shortly," Michael breathed out lifelessly.

Anne glanced up and nodded her head in response. Paul stopped in the silenced that filled the room as footsteps padded down the stairs.

Anne looked up from her coffee and said to Paul in a low whisper, "Be gentle with him, please." Pitty washed over Paul's face.

The feet that had stepped from the hot super, to a soft carpet, then to the hard wood stairs had found the kitchen where everyone sat waiting. "Sorry to keep everyone waiting," Ashton said with his head down as well.

"You're perfectly fine," Anne said and smiled at her son. He bent down and kissed her for head.

"Good morning, mum."

"Good morning, Ashton," Paul spoke up as Ashton took his seat.

Ashton remained silent.

"Ashton, sweetie, you can't act like this isn't going to affect you. We have to woke together," Anne reached over and grabbed her sons hand and the other found her husbands, "as a family."

Ashton looked from his plate to his hand where his mums hand looked frail and aged like she had gained ten years overnight. He finally moved his gaze to his mums face where she looked calm and sincere, her eyes welling with tears slightly egging her son to reason. Her hair was greying around the edges. "That's the thing mum," he looked back down at his plate pulling his hand gently from his mothers touch, "this isn't a family." He continued to eat in the silence that now filled the room mixing with the smell of bacon and fried eggs. Tensions were rising as Paul fought to keep his words to himself.

Steadying himself, Paul put his fork down from picking at his eggs. Moments passed with only the sound of clinking silverware were found. "Ashton, you're not a child," Paul paused seeing if his words had any affect on his long lost son. "I know this isn't easy for you to understand now, but when you were younger you wouldn't have understood either so now-"

"What's there to understand?!" Ashton slammed his silverware down on the table. Anne let a sob escape her with Ashton's outburst. "You left! That's all there is to it!" Ashton picked his fork back up and began to finished off his eggs.

"Ashton, would you stop this?" Michael said. Tears spilled down Anne's face. "You're acting like a child when your mother and -whether you like it or not- father are trying to treat you like an adult. Shut the fuck up and deal with it," Michael let his frustration and anger out since it had building and bubbling under the surface.

Ashton opened his mouth to argue but closed it promptly after. He let his eyes wander to look at his mother who didn't bother to wipe at her eyes anymore. He bit his lip thinking about all he and his mother had been through and finally decided within himself to stop fighting this- just for his mother though. He sighed loudly and whispered his final response.

"Fine."