Painting Flowers // Ashton Irwin [au]

Ten

Song of the chapter: Iridescent - Linkin Park

Ashton's POV

"No, absolutely not," I assert. I continue to chant 'no' to Emilia as I pace back-and-forth in front of her and shake my head.

There are a million things that I would rather do than walk down memory lane and reminisce on my shitty relationship with Natalie. Granted, it wasn't all bad until a few months before I proposed to her, but nonetheless, I'd rather not have to think or speak about it. I'd much rather go down to the city prison and pay Jared a visit than tell Emilia about Natalie.

Emilia picks herself up off the floor and furrows her eyebrows. "That's not fair," she argues. "You can't just ask me for help and then shoot me down. You know everything about me and Jared, yet you can't even tell me a single detail about you and Natalie. All I know about this girl is that you two grew up together and dated for several years before she cheated on you."

"That's all you need to know," I say harshly, but Emilia doesn't react.

"So what-you're going to keep it bottled inside forever and continue to wait for some magical sign to get you through all this? Wake up and realize that this won't get fixed on its own. You have to make the effort if you really want to get over this."

I stay silent, knowing she's right.

"I'm not asking you to spill the entire story of your relationship right now," she says with a huff. "I told you that we'll take baby steps. Just tell me one thing and we'll move on from there. I just want you to open up and talk about it instead of keeping it locked away. When I told you and the guys about Jared, I felt like so much weight was lifted off my shoulders. I didn't feel like I was trapped in my past memories because I finally let it all go, and that's what I want for you to do."

Emilia stares me down, waiting for any sort of response or reaction from me, but I'm at a loss of words. I always wanted the best for Emilia when she was dealing with Jared and I did everything possible to fix her as best as I could. I let her set the pace when it came to opening up to me. I praised her when she made progress. I gave all the advice and support that I could give her, but I can't even practice what I preach.

"You can tell me her birthday or what she looks like," Emilia suggests. "Just tell me something."

My shoulders slump as I let out a long sigh. I'm not ready to tell her, but then again, will I ever be ready? I go to sit back down against the canvas while Emilia continues to stand and observe my every move. "I don't know where to even start," I say.

"Start where you feel comfortable."

"That's proving to be difficult seeing how I'm not comfortable talking about this at all."

Emilia drops her crossed arms and takes a seat next to me. "Take your time," she says and rubs my arm soothingly.

I stare ahead at the rows of easel holding half-finished canvases that mock me of my most recent painting; the one that I selfishly recreated as a result of Natalie's phone call.

"You know that painting of the roses that I was working on the other day?" I ask, keeping my eyes straight ahead, but I can see Emilia nod out of the corner of my eye. "Roses are Natalie's favorite flower. When she called me she reminded me of this painting that I did for her which looked almost exactly like that one, except it didn't look as dull. It was a gift for her 21st birthday. I worked on it months in advance and spent countless hours trying to make it perfect for her.

"All my time spent on it caused a fight between us. She suspected that I was cheating on her or something crazy like that and started crying. I didn't blame her for thinking that since I would always make up some excuse to keep her away from my house and room so that she wouldn't see the painting. In the end, I had to show her the painting to prove to her that I wasn't doing anything worth being suspicious over. She loved it and was beaming from ear to ear, but then she got sad again because she knew that I wanted it to be a surprise, but just seeing her practically glow as she admired the canvas made up for it."