Aftermath // 5SOS Fanfic // Ashton Irwin

2 AM

Claire's POV- When I get home covered in paint, I don't even make it to the bathroom to wash off before Marie bombards me with questions. She manages to fangirl over nothing somehow.

"Marie, we just had a paint war! What is with you?"

"He LOVES you!"

"Actually, no, so please just calm down."

"Actually, yes, Claire. Gah, for someone who writes so many love songs you'd think you'd know something about love!"

"I'm going to take a shower."

"YOU CAN'T RUN FROM LOVE!"

"Give it a rest, Marie!"

"DENIAL WON'T CHANGE ANYTHING! I KNOW THE TRUTH!"

I feel like I have a better sense of clarity when I step out of the shower into clean clothes and sit on the edge of my bed. Ashton called me beautiful. But he's him! From what I can tell, he's basically my dream guy- artistic, funny, outgoing, nice, at least mildly intelligent, and not to mention his looks which are definitely not terrible. People like me don't get their dream guy, you know? My past has kinda proved that much. I shake the memories out of my mind and think about Ashton again. He probably steals girls' hearts on an hourly basis. I wonder how many girls he's gotten to fall for him before... then again, is it fair to judge him on what I assume his past is when I'd hate for him to judge me for who I was once? I'm so lost in thought I almost don't notice the tapping at my window. It's probably that bird again. I walk to the window to shoo it away and see a face rather than a bird. I almost have a heart attack and stumble back into my dresser and land quite gracefully on my butt on the carpet. I take a second to recover before opening the window to a laughing Ashton. I curtsy sarcastically. "You know, that has actually become normal. Not seeing random stranger outside my window in the middle of the night but the fall. Yeah I fall a lot."

"I hope I'm more than a random stranger! Maybe an unfamiliar acquaintance but not a random stranger!"

I laugh. "What are you doing on my roof, Ashton?" My room is a little attic area at the top of our little house. It's actually the only room not on the first floor, so it's close to the roof. If I stepped out of my window right now I'd be standing on it with Ashton. Thankfully it's not too steep because I've already had enough clumsy moments to constitute that being a serious danger.

"Do you want to talk?" he asks, kind of seriously and awkwardly and adorably.

"Sure," I reply. He holds out his hand to help me out of the window. Probably a good idea. I really don't want to get injured this week. He sits down right there and I laugh.

"What?"

"I'm not in high school you could've gone to the front door and asked if I wanted to talk!"

"But that's not as fun," he smirks. I sit down beside him.

We just stare at the sky for a blissfully, beautifully silent moment. Somehow it doesn't feel like that awkward lull in a conversation; it feels like we choose to be silent. It feels like we are in the stars just listening to our thoughts and feeling whatever this weird mixture of random emotions inside me is. He's the one to break it. "I want to know everything about you."

"That's not creepy at all!" I joke.

He smiles but looks back at me seriously. "Tell me your story. Really. I want to know the real Claire."

"Um... where do I start?" I know where I don't want to start. That's why I'm asking.

"The simple stuff," he answers. "I'm going to be totally cliche and ask what's your favorite color?"

"Grey."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Just cause it symbolizes kind of this unknown, you know? It's not black or white; it's just a mixture of light and dark."

"My Lord. If this is the simple stuff then I don't even know what complex stuff will look like for you."

"Next question!"

"What's your family like?"

"Uh... I don't like that question," I say quietly looking at the rough shingles between my bare feet.

"That's ok," he smiles. "I do have a really important question though."

"Go for it."

"Do you have food?"

This question leads me back through the window down the attic ladder to the kitchen and back. As we eat through an entire bag of Doritos, I tell him about how Marie and I became friends.

"Wait so how did you get stuck in a tree?" he asks.

"I only knew how to climb UP! I didn't know climbing down was different!" He kept laughing. "I was 12!"

"Most 12 year olds can climb a tree, Claire!"

"Look, my lack of skill and talent is irrelevant! Can I finish the story please?"

"Sorry. Continue."

"Thank you. So I was just sitting in the top of this tree in some random person's backyard, and Marie runs up and is just like "Why are you up there?" and I just told her I liked trees because I was too embarrassed that I was stuck. She proceeded to explain that a mean old man lived in the house in front of the tree and was very protective of it and I should come down. Then we heard the old guy screaming at us and I couldn't climb down but he scared me and I fell and broke my arm and Marie and I ran all the way back to my house so the mean guy wouldn't catch us."

"Would he even be able to chase you?"

"Probably not but I was 12. Seriously give me a break! I wasn't the brightest!"

"Okay! Okay! So you were like best friends after that?"

"Actually no," I reply. "I hid whenever I saw her cause I was embarrassed. She fell off the stage at our school talent show though so we were pretty much even after that."

I tell him stories for another hour and a half. He's a pretty great listener. He just asks questions, laughs at everything, and for some reason I feel like I can tell him almost anything. I'm explaining how I accidentally killed my first hamster when he just leans really close to me. I shut up immediately.

"I'm thinking something," he whispers. "But I don't want to say it yet which is weird since I usually say whatever I'm thinking. I just don't know what you'll think."

I just stare into his eyes which are only inches from me. I'm not breathing. I think I forgot how. It doesn't even matter. "You never know until you say something," I whisper back.

"I don't want to say it yet," he repeats. He reluctantly leans even closer and leans his forehead on mine. "Can- can I kiss you?"

"Yes please."

He presses his lips to mine, and my heart races. It's one of those kisses that you read about here the stars line up and then burst into a million more stars like fireworks but brighter. Then he pulls away, looks at me for a second with a faint whisper of a smile, and disappears.

My thoughts go in this order: Did he jump off the roof? Is he Spider-Man? Did Spider-Man just kiss me? Oh my Lord, Ashton just kissed me. ASHTON JUST KISSED ME! Ashton. Just. Kissed. Me. ME.

I end up back inside somehow lying on my back on my bed not even bothering to pull the covers over me. The clock says 2 am.