EGL // lashton

forty nine

"Ave Imperator, morituri te salutant" Ashton whispered in a rhythm through chapped lips as he stared at the white dull wall in front of him.

He was seated on the thin bed, his legs aching as he hadn't moved an inch since yesterday. His breathing was heavy like if he had ran a marathon, but he had done nothing for weeks.

His dirty hair was hanging like a curtain over his eyes, and the rough hair on his cheeks and chin made Ashton look about 10 years older than he really was. His body was slumped, his hands were torn apart, his eyes were red, and Ashton was insane.

"Ave Imperator, morituri te salutant" Ashton whispered again, staring intently at the small cracks all over on the thick white cement walls that were keeping him locked up for a lifetime.

A dice was rolling between his fingers, spots of blood covering it after the fight he had been in to get it. It had been a mess of fists and blood and Ashton was quite certain some guys surely had died, but Ashton wasn't one of them.

Not yet at least. He was waiting for Luke's approval.

"Ave Imperator, morituri te salutant" he repeated closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the hard wall.

The dice was rolling over his fingers, rattling every time it met the palm of Ashton's hand. The sound was soothing, making Ashton know he still owned what it contained.

It was a small dice, white and black, built up by six sides where dots decorated each side precisely. It was simple to hide away from each and everyone, but it held everything. It held the future, and everything it could bring.

The sixth side of the dice was the key to everything. It wasn't black and white, it was red. Completely filled with desperate, dark, dry blood, showing you more or less a blank surface.

Ashton cleaned the dice up every day, but always making sure to keep the sixth side as it was, to make sure that's what truly mattered.

As Ashton heard heavy footsteps slowly coming closer, he calmly lifted his shirt and hid the dice in the bandage that was wrapped around his chest. Bruises were evident on his skin, pale by the lack of sunshine and oxygen, making him look as close to death as possible.

Ashton enjoyed it. It was an honest picture.

"Irwin," a dark voice spoke up, loud enough for the whole building to hear, but Ashton didn't react. "Stand up, put your forehead against the opposite wall, and cross your wrists behind your back"

Ashton closed his eyes and moved his head from side to side, earning delightful cracking noises from his neck before he stood up and slowly did as told. His forehead hit the cold wall and he kept his eyes closed as he crossed his wrist behind his back, hearing the gates open and the officer step inside.

Only seconds later Ashton's wrists were decorated with handcuffs that dug into his skin. He didn't say anything though, the feeling was familiar, so he didn't argue as the officer kept a tight grip on his upper arms and dragged him out.

"You've got a visitor" the officer spoke, his voice harsh and monotone. Ashton didn't say anything- he hadn't said anything sane or conversational for weeks now- so they kept walking through the narrow hallways in silence, only the rattle of chains and thumping of boots hitting the ground were heard throughout the place.

They entered several doors before Ashton was pushed into the small, white, and horribly lit room with glass widows and black old phones hanging by each side of the bulletproof glass.

Ashton was pushed down on a chair before the cuffs were off, and he slowly raised his chin to lock eyes with a pair of all too familiar green ones on the other side of the dirty glass.