Paralyzed ▹ Luke Hemmings

11

AN: i barely read through this when i finished so if theres any typos don't laugh okay enjoy

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Sam sat silently at the edge of Ashton's couch. The leather stuck to her thighs as she bounced her knees up and down, her eyes nervously glancing around the room. Ashton was on the phone with his coach in the kitchen, pacing back and fourth in front of the sink.

"Yeah, yeah...I know," he sighed, running his free hand through his messy brown curls. "I have the plans for practice written down already."

Sam was absolutely terrified to be in this house right now. Everything was going just fine earlier in the day; they got dinner together, watched the sun set behind the mountains from his roof, and made out on this very couch for a good 20 minutes straight. Everything was just fine, until Ashton asked her why she left the party so abruptly the night before.

And when Sam refused to tell him why she left (and who she left with), Ashton got mad. Really, really mad.

Sam wanted to leave. She wanted to get up, get out of Ashton's house while he wasn't looking, and run down the street to the safety of her own. She knew if he found out who she was with all last night, she'd be done for. And as much as she wanted to utilize this opportunity to tell Ashton to leave her friend alone, she knew he'd end up winning no matter what.

His love is toxic. Sam thinks she can outsmart him, but the moment she tries to do so, he reels her back in like she is nothing but his little puppet. Sam thinks she doesn't need him, but she knows damn well that she misses him more than anything every time he's not around.

He's been different for a very long time. Ashton hasn't been acting like himself since the beginning of last summer, yet Sam can't get herself to turn her face and run while she still can.

And now, she was sitting here in front of a TV that displayed her shaking reflection with a black tint, waiting for Ashton to come back and punish her. She could tell he was quickly wrapping it up with his lacrosse coach, and she could tell that he was already growing very impatient with her. Sam's been reluctant to speak ever since the topic of the party came into their conversation.

"...Alright, bye." Ashton finally hung up his phone and walked back into the living room. The empty house made his heavy footsteps echo as he padded across the hardwood floor, his arms crossed over his chest.

He stopped and stood just a few feet in front of her. Sam stared sadly at her boyfriend's hardened face, wanting to give up and let him say whatever it is he wanted to say. She'll let him degrade her and then she'll leave. But she knows that as soon as the door closes behind her, she'll miss him already.

"What." she said bitterly.

"Answer my original question," Ashton snapped. "Where did you go last night?"

"Last night? I went to your stupid party last night," Sam retorted. "But you were too busy playing beer-pong with your narcotic friends to realize I was even there."

"That's bullshit," he snorted, rolling his eyes. He took a step toward her and she cowarded back, sinking further and further into the couch. "I'm not a dumb ass, Sam. Tell me where you were."

Sam stared up at Ashton with wide eyes. She was frozen like a deer in the middle of the gravel while Ashton was the oncoming freight train. She was at a loss for words, so she didn't speak at all.

Ashton clenched his jaw as he narrowed his fiery hazel eyes. "Sam..." he started.

"I - I wasn't with anyone." She said.