My Psychiatrist III

Part 5

Ashton's apartment is kind of what I expected it to look like, from what I had heard from him. The walls are dark grey and black; in some places, the paint is already letting go of the wall. There are brown boxes spread all over the studio, apart from some kitchen stuff, a bed, a couch and a TV almost nothing has been unwrapped or found its own place. And there's a massive, red, glittery drumkit in one empty corner. The drumkit fills up almost 1/5 of the entire space of the studio.

'How long have you been here now?' I ask, the boy turning around when he hears my question.

He makes eye contact with me for a second before his eyes drop to the floor.

'About one and a half month. I moved on the 25th of May.'

'Wow, you actually remember the dates?' I ask, my eyebrows raised.

A small smile forms on Ashton's lips.

'Yeah Tess... my life lived by the newspaper, my phone and a cups of coffee. I couldn't sleep, eat, go outside. Let alone unpack this,' he says as he points around the studio.

I just can't imagine how it must have been for everybody. But who could blame me? I don't even remember anything... How was I supposed to know where I came from? Apparently I had fallen off the fucking Niagara falls...

'Feel free to sit down,' Ashton says, making a gesture to the black couch. A blanket is stuffed into one corner, a pillow in the other one. Did he sleep on the couch?

As if he can read my mind, he walks into his little kitchen and nods his head. 'No, I usually sleep in my bed. It's just once in a while, in front of the TV, where I fall asleep.'

I sit down on the grey couch. It's soft and very comfortable.

'Thanks for letting me stay Ash,' I sigh. He walks towards me and hands me a glass of water.

'You're welcome. No worries.'

His voice is raspy, low... dark. It's obvious he battles with something on the inside.

We sit in silence in his semi-dark studio. He fidgets with his glass of water, denying making eye contact. 'Are you... are you okay with me letting you rmum know where you are..?' he eventually asks, his voice still low pitched.

My eyes widen and I slowly shake 'no'.

'They'll probably come and get me Ashton. I don't. My dad is crazy. And all he does is making a fool out of me, taking every word I say too serious or too light. He thinks I made up Luke.'

Ashton shifts seat in the sofa.

'Who's Luke?' he asks as he cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes.

I look at his feet; he's wearing white socks; still looking all clean even though it's the end of the day.

'He's... my best friend.' I say with a sad look in my eyes. He looks back at me, and I see him chew for a couple of seconds before saying: 'Tell me all about him. Only if you want to of course.'

Suddenly, I feel my sadness sink a little away when I think about Luke. Ashton seems to understand me and actually seems interested in me. Not demanding anything from me or expecting anything.

'Luke is...' I start before thinking for a second. 'Luke is tall. Blonde. Gorgeous big eyes in an icey blueish colour. He's muscly from working on his grandparent's land... He's from the US and lives somewhere like, in th emiddle of the country or something. In some country, not thé country of course,' I smile. Ashton smiles back and nods slowlu, suggesting I continue. 'Luke... is Luke. He's so humble. So understanding, so compassionate. Independent, but also open for strangers like me. He's so helpful with everything; just the way he is with his grandparents and helps them out.. Like, he's truly amazing. And.. I put my trust in him. I don't know if he even knows where I am to be honest.'

'What about the papers or online?'

'His grandparents don't read the papers. Saying it's too left or right-wing, I don't remember... and too much about politics and too little about the people who live on the countryside in America.'

'So what about internet and WiFi? Doesn't Luke read the internet or something?'

'The WiFi is pretty slow...' I sigh, thinking about the Never-have-I-ever night we had. The night before I left... it must've been the 1st of July. God, I miss Luke.

'I bet you miss him,' Ashton says, taking my hands, rubbing them slowly with his thumbs. It comforts me in a weird way. 'He sounds like such a guy,' he says, sending me a little smile.

'I know...' I say.

'Hey but Tess. Where were you planning on going tonight?' His face is serious again. I send a look up and down his body, noticing his black sneakers, and black jeans, combined with the big black hoodie. The one I noticed in the bus.

'I... I don't know, I'm not going home for sure,' I mutter. 'It doesn't feel like home anyways.'

'I understand Tess, I understand.' He's still holding my hands. I look at them, mine almost dissapearing in his big ones. His hands are warm, soft, big, strong, but still also smooth. 'I still should let your parents know where you are though, at least your mum. They don't know where I live so you shouldn't worry.'

'But what about the police?'

'No worries. I'll ask them to not ring the cops. Your mum knows you're safe with me.'

I just nod in response, hoping he's right. I guess that after this time of being gone, I can't just leave my parents with a dissapeared daughter again. 'I'll just call her really quick,' he whispers as he clears his throat and stands up and walks around the sofa. He plants a quick kiss on my head as he walks to the kitchen.

My thoughts wander away to Luke. I take a sip of my water and just imagine Luke in front of me right now. He must be upstairs in his bedroom. On his bed, probably, maybe making music. Maybe covering songs. Maybe sleeping, or just stare at the ceiling, thinking about whatever. Would he think about me?

'Hey,' I hear as someone gives me a quick pat on the shoulder before jumping over and into the couch. 'No worries, your mum is fine with it.'

'Is she really?' I frown.

'Well... she was very upset at first with the fact that Thomas freaked out. She told me that since you were gone, and his job has been demanding so much from him, that he's turned into a complete different person. Super stressed and all.'

I just listen. Maybe it was true, that my dad actually used to be a good person. Maybe the past months just fucked him up very bad. 'But all that matters is that you're here, and that you can stay here for the night without any problems. No police is coming to get ya.' With that, he takes my glass from my hands and puts it on the small table in front of us, before leaning in and pulling me into a hug. He twists my torso so I end up laying with my back against his chest, my ass in between his thighs, and my legs between his calves and feet. His chest smells sweet as he puts his cheek on my head and lets it rest there. The perfume is a mixture of citrusfruits and some ingredient every single men's perfume seems to have. I love it.

'Thank you,' I sigh as I feel my muscles relax when Ashton wraps his arms around me.

'All good baby, you're safe.'