How it started™ | Ashton Irwin Fanfic

Chapter 5

This is Cliff's sitting room and what Ashton sees when he wakes up:) xx

# Ashton POV #

The sudden brightness of an unfamiliar room woke me. I winced at the light. At least the rain wasn't as bad as earlier.

There was two ottomans in front of me, and a few off-white cupboards in front of that, holding multiple television boxes and game stations. A flatscreen TV hung from a marble background behind them.

I was still pretty tired and jet lagged as I had only been in New York since Saturday, I still had about a week and a bit until the jet lag wore off.

I soon recognised the place as Cliff's sitting room and felt comforted that I hadn't been kidnapped.

I sat up and looked around. The TV played in front of me. It was some news programme. Cliff, or Cliff's family, was no where to be seen. She was probably doing something in her room. She's so sweet not to wake me from slumber, I do love sleep. But how rude of me to fall asleep in her house.

I checked my pocket for my phone. It flashed red, meaning I had a text.

Cassandra Iris❤️: I'm in my room with my sister if you wake up:) xxx

I didn't feel the need to text back, but I rose from the couch to go to her room. A little girl in the kitchen stopped me.

"Who are you?" She asked, innocently.

"I'm Ashton, Cliff's friend." I replied, stopping at the table.

"Why are you here?" Her voice was soft and childish. She only looked about six or seven though.

"I stayed the night because I couldn't get home." I sat down as I could tell the girl wanted a conversation.

"Why?"

"The floods." I pointed out the window to the flooded garden.

"Oh," she looked down at her crossed arms that held a stuffed pink bunny. "I'm Imogen, by the way." She smiled.

"Hi Imogen!" I waved at her. "Are you Cliff's sister?" I asked, smiling.

"Half - sister." She said this as if it were vitally significant.

"And how old are you, Imogen?" I asked, still smiling. Imogen took a seat at the table.

"I'm seven." She said squeezing her bunny. "How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen." I said nodding.

"Whoa... Your old!" She giggled.

"I know!" I didn't really agree on her statement, but I opinionated with her because I could tell her I wasn't, that's rude and she's only seven.

"My daddy's really old though!" She giggled, playing with the ears of her bunny. "He's like, fifty-three."

I didn't respond to that. I felt it would be rude to agree and call Simon old, which he wasn't but it would be rude to disagree with a seven year old and make her cry.

"Hey, Imogen?" I whispered loudly.

"Yeah, Ashton?"

"I'm gonna go find Cliff now, okay?" I smiled and looked for confirmation.

"Okay!" She jumped for the table and wandered into the sitting room. I rose from the table too, making my way out the kitchen door and into the hallway, climbing the stairs and strolling to Cliff's room. As I put my hand over the doorknob, Simon caught me.

"Ashton!" He said in a deep raspy voice. His English accent was thorough. He wore a pure white shirt and was fastening shiny, diamond cuff links to his wrists.