Confiding in You ϟ a.i.

Chapter 24

!!!!!!! TW: SELF HARM !!!!!!!!

When I wake up the next morning, my entire body aches and my face feels like it's been injected with novocain. I can barely open my eyes with how puffy it is and it doesn't help that my head is pounding, too. I haven't felt this gross since, well, since what happened.

I'd woken up in the middle of the night after yet another, much more vivid nightmare featuring Luke. But somehow with Ashton's presence, it was easier to fall back asleep and not lie awake in agony. That's the thing that confuses me. Just about a week ago, being this close to him would have repulsed me. But now, with his arms wrapped tightly around my torso, I feel at peace and...protected.

I move slowly and reach into my pocket to grab my phone and check the time. It's 11:26am -- much later than I thought, and I'm surprised Luke hasn't kicked us out by now. How late -- or early -- did Ashton come in last night? I know Luke wouldn't make me leave, but I'm 100% certain that if he saw the way Ashton and I are now, he'd at least wake us up in confusion.

I stretch as much as I possibly can within Ashton's hold and try not to make a peep in fear of waking him up. Nausea overcomes me, though, and I let out an instinctive groan as I cover my mouth. I'm pretty much feeling the effects of a hangover without the 'enjoyable' cause of alcohol. Instead, I had to experience the misery of crying as hard as I did last night to get this pain. Great.

"I know you said to never let go," Ashton whispers tiredly in my ear, shifting the placement of his arms slightly and letting me know he's woken up, "but I really have to pee."

I let out a laugh despite my headache and wince as it gets more painful. This is hell. Why did I have to agree to come last night? Why?

"You can never leave," I say softly with an attempt to pull off a playful tone. I hope I can just act like nothing ever happened and Ashton won't ask a single thing. At this point, I don't want to relive it or even talk about how I feel. I just want all of the pain, emotional and physical, to go away.

But of course, nothing ever goes my way, does it? A sharp pain rips through my head as I move to lie on my back and it feels like I could die any second. I wish I could, really.

I move my hand quickly to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut, but that doesn't make it much better. My hand slides down my now-sweaty face and I sigh. There's only a second or two before Ashton's cold touch replaces my own on my forehead and I know he's concerned.

"Did you drink or smoke anything last night?" He asks and I open my eyes slowly to look at him. He's hovering over me, looking more scared than worried.

"No," I mumble, turning so that my back is to him again. He's going to ask me what happened soon, I can feel it. But I can barely organize my thoughts right now, let alone put together a cohesive account of last night. As much as I don't want to, I have to shut him out or else I'll end up embarrassingly crying into him for the third time. 

It's silent for a bit before Ashton exhales loudly. His shaky breathing becomes more recognizable as he nears me again and, unexpectedly, he gathers my hair in his hands and I feel him begin to sloppily braid it. I want to think that it's just a coincidence, but deep down I know he's paid enough attention to realize that this is calming to me.

With closed eyes, I try not to wish that it was Luke that could make me feel this comfortable and notice these little things about me. But really, why couldn't it? He finally likes me but he can't even realize it when I don't want to have sex with him, much less something so miniscule. Ashton is the most sexual, most aggressive, and least emotionally competent boy I know in Ohio, so how is it that I'm afraid of Luke and not him?

 "You have a uhm," he lets the finished braid fall out of his grasp and clears his throat. He moves then to gently touch the side of my neck, sending something other than fear, something I can't even describe, through me. I let out an anxious breath as he continues, "a hickey, on your neck."

"What?" I snap my eyes open and sit up finally, bringing my own hand to cover the spot he just touched. He had to be joking. So not only do I have the stupid bruise on my face, I have this to deal with too? I'm a wreck.