The Boy In The Basement (Lashton AU)

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Luke's POV-

Practice was okay, not the best I have done, but okay.

As I walked home, I couldn't help but think about how I felt about Ashton. Also why he was in our basement. It seemed like March and Frank has had him there for quite sometime. It baffled me that people who were so nice to me could hold someone in a prison just downstairs.

I also did not know how those hazel eyes made me feel?

Did I like him?

That was a question I couldn't answer correctly.

I did like him in a way, but yet again I don't know him.

I don't know him at all.

Sure that he's a boy named Ashton and he likes Gobstoppers.

Lots of Gobstoppers.

I do like his eyes a little bit.

I like his eyelashes, they're dark and long.

His small piece of hair that gets in his eye.

The pale skin that surrounded the eyes I loved.

Did I say his eyes yet?

Oh shush Luke, you sound like a creeper.

It is true though, I like his eyes.

Those hazel eyes hold a story behind them.

His eyes showed sadness, a form of melancholy, rage was also there. There wasn't much, but I could see it. They were also as pure as eyes can be.

His eyes showed the pureness of his soul and mind.

The weird part is, I know this just by looking at his eyes.

I'm intrigued and scared of what I might find.

I needed to know and not let my time in this house end. I needed to help Ashton even if meant playing a facade of the perfect foster boy.
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Ashton's POV-

It was dark, cold, and wet.

My sweater sleeves and bottom were soaking wet, making my bare legs cold.

The only warmth radiating around was coming from my body.

I crawled over to my mattress, looking for my socks.

Last night, I had laid them out. Hopefully their dry or at least wearable enough.

The mattress made a creaking noise as my body hit the springs.

My socks were indeed dry, sadly my bed had soaked up most of the puddled water.

Luke hadnt talked to me.

Did I scare him or was it because I took all of his Gobstoppers?

I made sure to take them only if he was giving them to me.

I heard screeching and a clatter usually meaning Frank had given me food, if it didn't spill on the way down.

I crawled my way to the staircase and saw the plate had actually didn't spill.

The chicken was cold and my bread was soggy, but ate it to the bone.

When I had finished, I went back to my mattress and looked around.

Maybe I could find something to lift the matress off the water.

I saw two plastic crates where what looked like cables were stored, were in the back which I quickly took them.

As I moved a small lamp, a rat came out squealing as it ran away from me.

I told myself all the time because while I'm down here, they're the only ones before Luke I've talked to.

Quietly, I put a half of a wooden piece in between and lifted the wet, black mattress onto it.

I was nice and dry, for now so it would do.

I laid my bare pillow on the side, smoothing it out.

Even if it wasnt clean, I had pride in it because I wasn't dying, I wasnt ill, I am okay.

My pillow didn't have a pillow case because once I turned it into a blanket which later on, Frank ripped.

I looked up the ceiling as I layed in my damp matress.

By now, my sweater was almost fully dry and so were my socks.

Maybe tonight, I'll have a warm sleep.

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Question

Do you play an intrument if you do what? If not what would you like to play?

I play violin.

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