The Boy In The Basement (Lashton AU)

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edited

Luke's POV-

March had come home a little bit early...

Ashton was back in the basement and I was here, feeling like shit.

It hurts me when I have to click that lock on the dreadful door.

It was like a wave of melancholy had hit me hard in the face.

It made me have sympathy for the cute, curly haired boy.

Sure, I mean he was stuck inside four walls. Detached from the outside world, but what hit me most was that he has never experienced love.

It kind of sucked. I never had parents, but my social worker, Susan, was like my best friend.

I had someone. Ashton didn't, not counting me of course

These events that had happened recently, like meeting Ashton, helped me appreciate what I had.

I had a bag full of old clothes.

Two foster parents that cared for me.

A nice friend named Susan.

My necklace that my mother once owned.

And last, but not least, my freedom.

The little things I had, Ashton didn't, I didn't quite know Ashton very well.

Just that the last album he owned was a Nirvana album or the last book he read was a collection of poems by Edgar Allan Poe.

He also told me when he was 2 his mother had bought him a cake for his birthday, which he now claims he doesn't have one.

I knew some bits of Ashton I didnt know all, but I knew he wanted freedom since everyone is supposed to have it naturally.

My deep thoughts were interrupted as March called me down for dinner,"Luke! Hon, dinner is ready! "

As I entered the dining room, there was a nice spread out dinner.

I was starving, due to the fact I gave Ashton my lunch spaghetti-o.

March had made rice, beans, and chicken.

Before eating, March made us pray to the "Lord", all I thought of when she said ,"Now bare us from our sin..." was bullshit.

There was no conversation sparked through dinner besides the few time we tried small talk.

It was rather delicious and I might have taken second servings as I licked my fingers.

I had dish duty, so I stayed after, cleaning up after us.

There was no left overs and I couldn't help, but notice how neither Frank or March looked for food to give Ashton.

It made me feel guilty for taking the extra serving because I basically took Ashton's dinner.

How could I be so naive?

I was not overreacting, it was true though, I deprived Ashton of his dinner.

I'll just have to sneak something to him later, when March and Frank go to sleep.

.

Not long after, there was the loud snoring sound coming from upstairs.

I tip toed to the kitchen, taking out a tortilla we had stored and placed it on the stove.

I waited patiently 3 times as each tortilla came out nice and warm.

Slowly I put mayonnaise on it with a bit of salt.

Now this might sounds gross, but it is the most delicious food ever.

I once had this Hispanic lady as a foster Mom for one week and when I was hungry and we were running low on options she would make me these.

I placed them in a napkin with a water bottle taking the bronze key in hand towards the door.

As I creeped down the steps I didn't want to startle Ashton so I whispered for him.

"Ash, psst, it's me. I brought you food."

I felt cold fingers grip my hands. Noticing there were Ashton's, I sat on a plastic, squared crate.

"Thanks", Ashton mumbled with a tortilla half hanging outside the boy's mouth.

I just smiled. Gently rubbing his cold fingers against my warm ones.

"Lukey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. Thank you for everything."

Next thing I knew once again I was embraced in a warm hug.

We might or might not have spent half of the night downstairs, my hands in his, trying so desperately to give the smaller boy heat.

.

Question:

What is your guilty pleasure?