Ashton's Notes

note 04

I feel as though this particular chapter is sure to bring change, or something like that.

12:38 AM | Back to AM.

I learned quite an important lesson the other day. And that lesson is that fighting the enemy is encouraged... unless they are bigger and stronger.
I am almost one hundred percent sure my nose is broken. It hurts. A lot. But it was one hundred and one percent worth it. That girl-Amelia Winters-doesn't deserve somebody as horrid as him. Her eyes shone with fear when he'd interrupted our good time. I know pure terror when I see it and, Goddamnit, I saw it in her black eyes. Now, I am not in the business of prying in other people's relationships but something tells me my prying is much needed.
One problem. (Well, there are many problems but this seems to be the biggest one on the table at the moment.)
I have no idea where she is. How likely is it that she will come up to me on the street again, asking me where the nearest café is with weary eyes and tight lips. Almost zero to none. My mother always told me the world had strange ways of hinting to you that some people are meant to be in your life, whether for a short time or for the rest of it. I feel so strongly that Amelia is one of those people.
This is the most cliché conversation we've had yet, and I am utterly weirded out. Usually I am just a lump under a comforter, but this situation calls for worrying out of the covers, I feel. What if he hits her? The thought of him lying his grimy hands on her makes me sick to my stomach. His touch had not a hint of gentleness. His hands were calloused and rough. They felt like the sting of nicotine caressing my throat. Not pleasant in the slightest.
This upsets me. I can't bring myself to imagine what Amelia might be feeling...

Something you must know about Amelia Winters is that she was deeply afraid of her mother. Threats and ugly promises spilled from her mother's mouth each and every day. "Michael's family is even wealthier than ours. Don't you dare be a dumb girl and fuck this up for me, understand?"

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "I understand, alright." she mumbled. Talking back. Amelia was impeccable at that, but her mother also had a talent for smacking her and telling her to stop being wise.

"I only want the best for you," her mother's faux-angelic voice called to her in the dark of night. "You're only eighteen, you wouldn't understand these types of adult matters." her mother explained.

"You want what's best for you," Amelia corrected her mother. Another important fact about Amelia Winters: she had the world's shortest temper. A pen could slip from her fingers and her mood would be sour the rest of the day.

"Too, too young." her mother would repeat over and over until the phrase latched itself onto her brain like a leech.

She seemed to have a gentle heart. She was kind, playful, and let's not forget indescribably beautiful. I'm getting sidetracked again...

Her midnight eyes were not as misleading as Ashton Irwin might lead you to believe. Amelia had a certain something in her, that nobody could quite put their finger on. But, what people that knew her well knew for sure, she was a force that should not be reckoned with. The night stars seemed to slowly disappear from her stormy skied eyes the longer she bottled up her fury.

Of course, she would never voice the anger resting deep inside of her. For, as we discussed earlier, Amelia Winters is deeply afraid of her mother.

And, as strange this may sound to you, I sometimes lay in my bed in the early morning thinking of what might be going through Michael's head. How he could yell at such a fragile soul sent slow shivers tracing the outline of my spine. I am afraid for her. I knew her for barely thirty minutes, but I have thought about her much, much more than that.

(a/n: happy thanksgiving!)