Aftermath // 5SOS Fanfic // Ashton Irwin

The Studio

Claire's POV- The news of Ashton and Michael's arrival in Shawnee races through the town faster than any gossip I have seen travel. Some people are delighted. Some are disgusted. Everyone has an opinion though no one seems to talk to them for themselves.

I, for one, like them. A lot. Michael and I have a lot in common, and Ashton... there's something about him. It's that poetic feeling I got the day I saw the moving truck except it's housed in my stomach like a flock of butterflies. (Do butterflies travel in flocks?)

I'm lying on the floor with a rerun of some show I don't even watch playing on the tv when the doorbell rings."I got it!" yells Marie.

Thank God. I'm way too lazy to get up right now.

"Hey! I came to return your brownie pan thing," says the voice at the door.

Ashton.

I jump up and run over to the door right as Marie is welcoming him inside.

"Your house is so clean," he laughs.

"That's all Marie!" I reply.

She nods. "She's not wrong. Did you like the brownies?"

"They were great! Thanks!"

He's wearing a beanie. A beanie. In summer. That boy...

"Claire?"

"What?" I say, noticing the two staring at me.

"I asked if you're up for helping paint a little tomorrow," Ashton repeats. "We didn't really want to repaint but some of the walls are just disgusting."

"Yeah! I'd love to!" Did that come across as too enthusiastic? Not enthusiastic enough? Did I just ruin every chance I have with him? Am I overreacting?

"I can't," Marie sighs. "My sister is coming in town for the day."

"Aw! Well have fun! Come over whenever tomorrow, Claire. Maybe noonish?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"Great! See you tomorrow then!" he smiles his adorable smile and hesitates at the door, looking at me. The door closes behind him and Marie bursts out laughing.

"What?"

"The tension!" she cries between laughs.

"What tension?"

"You guys are totally into each other! I'm not blind!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I insist.

She raises an eyebrow. "If you guys aren't going out by next week I'll be shocked."

Ashton's POV- The doorbell rings at 12:03. I fix my hair using the distorted reflection the microwave provides as a mirror. I pull the door open and smile at Claire. "Come on in!"

She follows me to the kitchen and asks what rooms we will be painting. I tell her the living room and the studio are in dire need of paint.

"Studio?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah. It's basically just a room to play music, write, throw stuff at the walls, whatever you need to do."

"Cool!" she says, resting her elbows on the counter and resting her chin on her hand. "Are you a writer? A musician?"

My face gets hot. "Not really! I just... well... I guess. A little."

"That's amazing! I love stuff like that! Me and Marie both do! Plus painting, obviously."

"Feel free to come use the studio whenever then!" I say automatically. I want to see her often. Always. Every day. She's like a book. I feel like I'm reading only the first chapter of the most beautiful book ever written.

"Really?" Her eyes widen.

Did I come on too strong? Should I come on stronger? Gah, why does she make me so nervous?

"Sure! I mean, if you want to."

"Are you kidding? I'd love to! We have to paint it perfectly. Like now."

Her green eyes are so big I feel as if I could walk into them. I bet it would be like walking into a forest or a huge meadow like in those old movies about prairies and horses.

"Let's go then!" As I turn to leave the kitchen, she doesn't follow.

"Er- where's Michael?"

Michael. She and him have a lot in common. No wonder she's looking for him. I'm really no competition, am I?

"I think he's already in there," I reply glumly, opening the door to the room we chose as the studio.

"Hey, Ash, can you come look at- Oh! Hi, Claire!" Michael says, 3 cans of paint open in front of him with 4 more to his left.

"Hey! I came to help!"

"Great! Take a look at these colors. I tried these on the wall and I don't know which one I like."

We walk over to the corner where 3 messy splotches of paint are displayed on the wall. She tilts her head and purses her lips.

"Hm..."

"I like the blue," I say.

"But..." she starts.

"But what?"

"It's nothing..."

"No, really! I- we would love your opinion!" I say.

"It's just- I think we should do two walls one color and two walls that grey color. Make it interesting but not overpowering and crazy. Know what I mean?"

"That's brilliant!" Michael smiles. "What other color did you have in mind? Like for the walls that aren't grey?"

She hesitates and looks at me. "The blue of course."

We get to work immediately. Michael runs to the store to get a couple more cans of paint. Claire had pushed her red waves into a ponytail and has a determination set in her eyes as she works. As her hair swishes away from her body, I catch sight of something above the neck of her tee shirt. She looks over at me. "What?" she laughs.

I've been staring at her for too long. "Nothing- just- is that a tattoo?"

Her fingers jump to the back of her neck. "Uh.. yeah." She blushes.

"Don't be embarrassed!" I set down my paintbrush and walk to her. I move her hand from her neck and push her ponytail to the side to look at the 5 small ink moons creating the moon cycle on her skin. I see her tense as I brush my fingers across this small bit of art and step away. "What does it mean?"

"Well," she hesitates "it's kind of a reminder to me that things come in cycle and there will be days with less light than others."

My mouth opens but no words come out. After another minute of silence she turns to look at me. "That... that must sound-"

"I think that's beautiful," I blurt out finally.

"Well thank-"

"I think you're beautiful." I step back toward her while I still have the nerve.

She's the speechless one this time. Her face is the same hue as her hair as she smiles at her Vans. "I think..." She suddenly swipes my shirt with her paintbrush. "... that you should've seen that coming." She dashes to the other side of the room as I seize my brush and lunge toward her. The next 10 minutes are a blur of paint, running, laughter, and Claire. I'm not experienced with paint, but I'm pretty sure it's not good to be covered in it. Claire is collapsed on the floor with her hands up in surrender when Michael walks in.

He sighs. "See? This is why I can't leave the house for 20 minutes!"

I laugh and put my hand out to help Claire up and call a truce on our paint battle. She slides her hand in mine, and something, somewhere clicks. It feels right, and it takes me a moment to let go.