Te Odio

3~The Only Reason

You're the reason, the only reason

Ashton had slept for over 16 hours at one go within the last week he was sick. He seemed to be getting better, but Michael continued to keep a close eye on him, not wanting anything to happen. Especially without him being there to help.

"Hey, where are you going?" Michael asked, noticing Ashton was sitting up.

"I'm drenched in sweat. I'm having a shower." Ashton mumbled, pulling the covers off of him and peeling off his clothes.

"Still hot, huh? Need me to help you?" Michael offered.

"Nah I think I'll be alright." Ashton smiled, taking his watch off and heading off to the bathroom.

After turning on the shower, Ashton stood in front of the mirror and ruffled his hair. It was definitely growing. His gaze slipped down to his chest and torso, looking at every long line along his stomach caused by Luke six months prior. His eyes lingered around the three jagged scars where he was stabbed with a pocket knife.

"Your scars are so ugly."

"You should've done that to yourself. It's what you deserve."

Ashton tried to push away these voices inside his head. He had promised Calum he'd never have these thoughts again.

"They're not like, heroic scars. They're ugly."

"Luke should've killed you that night."

Ashton's eyes glanced to the razor lying on the counter next to him.

"It would be so easy."

"Go on."

"Do it."

"You deserve it."

Ashton couldn't help himself. He grabbed the razor and quickly dropped his towel before jumping under the steaming hot water. He sat down and tucked his knees up to his chest as hot tears spilled down his face, mixing with that of the shower.

"Do it."

Old habits got the best of him as Ashton picked at the plastic edges of the razor and before long, he had three thin blades in the palm of his hand.

"I'm sorry Calum." Ashton whispered to himself before proceeding to extend his forearm out.

His arm was so pale. It needed a small tint of red. Ashton pressed the blade into his wrist and deeply drew it across his skin, the flowing blood immediately washing away by the water as soon as it left his body.

"One isn't enough, you coward. Do 18. One for every year you fucked up everyone's lives. Plus, you should do extras for every other mistake you've made."

Ashton nodded to himself softly. Gritting his teeth, he drew around 46 cuts along his arm. By now, his arms felt heavy and his movements were slow. If anyone could see him, they'd say he had skin paler than Michael's natural pale complexion.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Ashton chanted to himself as he began to feel dizzy.

"Ashton, just checking in to see how things are going?" Michael asked from outside of the bathroom.

Ashton tried to respond but his vocal cords seemed to be fighting against him.

"Ash?" Michael asked again. "Ash, is everything alright?"

Ashton tried harder to reassure Michael that everything was alright but he could only let out a quiet grunt that he knew would be drowned out by the volume of the shower.

"Shit- Ash, I'm coming in!"

Ashton tried to protest but again, but couldn't make a sound when Michael slammed the door open and pulled back the curtain. Michael quickly noticed the shiny razor on Ashton's hand before he noticed the thick blood running down Ashton's forearm in different places.

"A- Ashton!" Michael gasped, turning off the shower and kneeling down next to him.

Ashton bit his lip tightly as he tried not to cry.

"Give me the razor." Michael spoke firmly.

Ashton shook his head softly, gripping it tighter. He wasn't finished. He needed this. He deserved this.

Michael didn't want to snatch the razor from Ashton as it could injure him further. Instead, he took a deep breath and asked again.

"Give me the razor."

Ashton gripped the razors tighter, his hand forming a fist with blood trickling out of the cracks in between his fingers. Michael couldn't stop himself. He grabbed Ashton's hand and pried his fingers open, grabbing the razors and discarding of them in the toilet.

Without another word, Michael grabbed a towel and dried off Ashton. Once he was mostly dry, except for the water dripping down his face from his wet hair, Michael gently picked him up and sat him down on the edge of the bathtub. He pulled out the first aid kit, grabbing a packet of tissues and a bandage. Ashton hadn't looked up since Michael had walked in, too ashamed to look at him. He was afraid that if he'd open his eyes, Michael would call him stupid and overdramatic.

Michael didn't warn Ashton when he pressed down hard on Ashton's forearm with a tissue, making Ashton flinch and pull his arm back slightly out in pain.

"Sorry," Michael mumbled, grabbing Ashton's arm again.

The two sat in silence as Michael continued pressing down on Ashton's arm, trying to stop the blood flow. Soon enough, Michael discarded of the tissue and used another one to dab away the blood.

"Why?" Michael whispered.

Ashton looked up at Michael. He wished he hadn't. The expression on Michael's face was one no one would ever want to see. So broken, so hurt. Ashton hadn't even known Michael was crying before he looked up. Tears were spilling over his eyes constantly, Michael not even bothering to wipe them away.

"I'm sorry," Ashton croaked.

"Please, tell me why."

"My scars- They're hideous- People always say so- Even you stare." Ashton mumbled bitterly.

"Ash. Your scars are not ugly. They're amazing. They show how strong you are. They show how you survived against Luke. They show the journey you've been on. They-"

"They show that I let Luke get to me. They show that I was too weak to fight back."

"Ashton. Trust me. They're not ugly. Please, please believe me." Michael choked out. "You're beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful.

Ashton looked down again, not answering. Michael sighed and gently wrapped Ashton's arm in a bandage.

"I love you," Michael whispered after he'd finished, tilting Ashton's head up to look at him.

"Love you too." Ashton mumbled.

Michael paused for a moment before hugged Ashton tightly, surprising him. It wasn't long before Ashton hugged back, burying his head in Michael's shoulder.

"Promise me. Promise me you won't do that again." Michael whispered.

"I promise."

If only they knew that promises will be broken.