organic. ➵ lashton

fifteen>

[warnings: last chapter was a tad confusing, i apologize, this is going to have more lashton hehe, mostly fluff though, this whole story is fluff what am i saying, michael gets feisty af, but not that michael, this is mainly just filler, this story has no plot, NO (major) TRIGGERS :)]

[ship: luke hemmings + ashton irwin]

By the time Luke woke up the next morning, January first, Ashton was sprawled out beside him.

Luke smiled a little and pulled the blankets over him, standing up on tiny legs and shakily making his way to the kitchen to get them both some water and Ashton some ibuprofen.

"Lukey?" Ashton moaned, sitting up and holding his head as Luke walked in.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Luke greeted. "You got home late last night."

"What are those?" Ashton asked, gesturing to the tiny slices in his arm.

"Yolanda."

Ashton gave him a look and Luke raised his hands in defense after setting down the water and pills.

"Search my bathroom. I don't have any blades."

"Yolanda, that bitch," Ashton snarled playfully, cupping Luke's chin for a short kiss.

"You seem happy this morning," Ashton commented as Luke sat down on the bed beside him.

Luke hummed as Ashton swallowed the pills with water. "Maybe. I just had a bit of an epiphany last night."

"Oh?" Ashton turned towards him. "How so?"

"I want to get better, Ashton."

Ashton smiled, running his hands through his tangled curly hair.

"We can arrange that."

/\/\/\

Ashton made plans to meet with a therapist specializing in eating disorders the week after, since she was busy and had other appointments booked in the time between then.

Luke actually seemed excited to go, although he was terrified in actuality.

"Do you want to try and eat something? I can make sandwiches."

Luke was quick to decline, but then nodded slowly. He needed to want to recover.

"I... Ashton?"

"Yeah?"

"I-I... I don't want to eat that many carbohydrates, is all, and I-"

"It's okay," Ashton cut him off. "I'll make you a plate."

When Ashton emerged from the kitchen, he held two plates.

One held two sandwiches, obviously for himself, and the other was different.

There were two slices of bread, notably without crusts, set aside from two pieces of ham and two slices of American cheese.

"You can make a sandwich if you like. Or you can eat it however you want," Ashton explained, setting the plate in Luke's lap and kissing his forehead.

Luke couldn't help but think that Ashton was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Ashton sat down beside him, holding his sandwich in one hand and his phone in another. He couldn't begin to say how many anorexia blogs he'd scrolled through, how many 'pro-ana' pages he'd seen and how many tips he'd memorized.

He knew what it was like. Being trapped in the fear of 'when is my next meal?' or 'how many calories did I consume today?'.

Ashton decided that the best idea was giving Luke choices and options. That way, Luke was still in control, and he was getting the nutrients he needed to gain and control his weight.