When she gets to his apartment building, she notices his windows are wide open, even though it is bloody cold out. She climbs the steps to the first door and pushes it quickly to avoid the cold. When she gets in the hallway and starts walking to his flat, she can feel her whole-body relax. Her fingers slowly leaving the inside of her pockets to join her thighs. She touches the fabric of her top, trying to smooth it under her jacket. Wrinkles are not a good fit. Her breathing goes slower before stepping in front of his door, so she seems approximatively normal. She lets her fingers trail their way slowly to the bell. Some noises are heard from above, some from the neighbors, some from the televisions turned way up. As if it wasn't already obvious that Ash was living in a bad place, she can hear they're watching cringy shows the next door on the left.
She finally rings, feeling as tough as an animal ready to fight. The heat of being ready on the battlefield is so intense, Hayden finds herself smiling a snobby smile before Ash opens the door. She is ready for whatever he will say, she's ready to fight him, and win. Right.
When he opens the door, all her feelings sink back down to her toes. She feels them crawling down her spine, the emotions settling back into their initial place, the heat travelling down her bones. Shit. Shit shit shit. His eyes are so dark, the deep grey circles under them makes her think of Avery for a second. She stares at him -and around her- before opening her mouth. Not only is his bedroom's window open, all the windows are. She gets in, brushing past him and pushes her stuff on the kitchen counter.
"What's up?" she says, waving at the entire flat. "It's freaking October," she says, crossing him so she can at least close the windows in the living room, "the hell?".
He looks confused, then in a second, starts moving things around in the small space. Finally, he jumps to the first window he spots to his left, one that Hayden had not reached yet, shutting it close. He shakes his head and comes back to her after closing the other three in his bedroom and kitchen. His fingers find hers around her hips and he gets hold of her body, pulling her to him. She giggles and kisses his cheekbones, stroking his hair back.
"You're a mess," she mumbles before being led in the bedroom.
***
Taking him out for the first time since rehab would definitely be a huge step. He had insisted, almost pulling her out of his place, dragging her down the stairs, almost running in the streets, running under the pouring rain. She is soaking wet when they finally enter their first bar. Lots of men are gathered in front on the huge screen, all of them sipping on their beers. Hayden turns to Ashton and checks his pupils. What if this was a way he could drink again? What if this was his way of coming back? Coming back to her.
Most of the guys are smoking, shouting at one another. When they get in, Ash's eyes flicker down to his feet, she presses her fingers into his forearm, so he can feel her. So, he can sense her presence. So, he knows she is there with him, for him. He turns around and winks at her, hiding a grin.
She orders a coke and, after her third, starts wondering how she is going to get this whole situation to stop. This kind of conversation, the way he looks at her quite sorry, the way the waitress keeps on gazing at them from where she stands, her eyes falling onto Hayden' scars and bruises.
Hayden was never made for normal, that much she knew. He understood that long ago. Hell, Ash wasn't either. He wants to get drunk. He wants to get wasted, to get so many beers in front of him that he would have to run no to pay for them. He wants to get so much drugs in his veins that he would not be able to feel the life running through him anymore. He wants to get wasted, to get her on her knees, he wants to get her back to his place for another round. This time it would be better than earlier. This time he would not be sober, he would not fear hurting her, he would not fear her reaction, he would just go with whatever he would feel like.
Being sober when with Hayden was nothing like being high with her. Being sober meant he could feel her every move, her every cringe, even. The moans that escaped from her lips were being heard, everything she did or felt, or said, was for him. That was new. He would do anything to go back to the way it was. Being drunk, or high, got him feeling nothing. It got to the point where he could not feel the life running through him anymore. And sometimes, that was the only point. He wants his old life back.
Hayden understands it. He has been staring at the alcohol stand for about two minutes now, not acknowledging anything that is happening around him. She pulls her hair back under her hoodie and throws her arms around his neck, getting him back on earth. He lifts his eyebrows and gets up as fast as he could to follow her out.
***
The way back to his flat is silent, awful. Pink hair slightly showing, dark nails being dug into her pockets for another cigarette, Hayden walks slowly behind Ashton. She notices the few guys staring and doesn't stare back. She just counts the steps back to his place. It hurts that she couldn't go on with her plan of getting him high, or drunk. But when she saw his face in that bar, all she wanted to do was drag him out.
"I won't get in if you don't want me to." Her eyes, set on her sneakers, dare not to look at him. They're standing in the hallway, him leaning against his door frame while she is obviously trying to not make eye contact.
She does not want to cross his sight and tell him this whole thing is too much for her. Right now, her body is cold, the heat from what she took back at home has completely left her. Everything she feels is cold. Freaking cold. Their fingers tangled; her, standing in the hallway, him, at the door; everything, cold. He reaches for her neck and traces the shape of her collarbone with his thumb. Lowering his chin to touch her, to feel her, his lips are hot on her frozen body. He steps back and pulls her in with him.
***
On her back, staring at him from the floor, he lifts her right foot to his shoulder and crawls down to her. They would forget about the couple hours before, about the smell of weed they had smelled when coming back home, and about the alcohol he had stared at back in the bar. During these few moments that they would share, he would be free.
Tonight, Hayden forgets about her dad, about Avery's eyes, about her mom' silence. She forgets about college, about drugs, and about the twins running down the stairs to see her. Tonight, she finds hope for just a few hours.
Ash forgets about rehab, about his friends' issues with alcohol, about the bar they got into. He forgets about his family, about his dad and his sister. Tonight, he finds an anchor to hold onto for a few hours, an anchor that will sink back later.
***
"Just get out!" He is yelling at her now. Usual.
He's throwing her purse down the hall and pushing her against the wall, right next to the opened door. The windows are opened once again, and the cold wind is getting in, flying through her hair, and freezing her blood. Right now, he is shouting, punching the wall; lightning a cigarette and shaking way too much to be able to smoke it. She is crying, scared as hell. She yells too.
"Go! Get drugs. Go, just go! Die in there. Alone." He shuts the door behind her after pushing her one last time out of his apartment.
Hayden gets on her knees to gather her stuff he'd thrown out. She gets up again after closing her purse and pushes her forehead against the wooden door, outside of his apartment. That's what they did.
She pushes her head against the door and settles once more, on the floor. Sitting there, listening to the reruns of Doctor Who that the single mom third door to the right is watching. She thinks of what Avery would say, seeing her like this. She thinks of the circles under his eyes. She thinks of his type writer, she thinks of what he's writing about. What would he write about her? Her hoodie in her hands, she pulls it closer to warm herself up, wearing only jeans and her bra in the hallway.
Avery would tell her to get up, to run away so fast they would find a hole the size of her in the doors. He would tell her to never, ever, look back on this guy. She pushes her head harder against the door, as to become one with it. She feels like disappearing.
Terrified to knock, she whispers to the wooden mountain "Ash?" That's what they did.
YOU ARE READING
Settle Down
Romance"She came and it was two in the morning. She'd been crying. She started screaming in my backyard. She was yelling for me to let her in while I had never met her before. Mate, she was nuts. She wore that fucking purple dress. You know, the dark one...
