Paint You Wings // Ashton Irwin [au]

Ten

Emilia's POV

Behind Ashton's sweet smile is a man who had his heart forcefully ripped from his chest, trapped in the memories of his ex-fiancée. I wish I could sympathize with him, but I really don't know what it's like to be in a real relationship with someone you have actual feelings for. Even without that experience, I still know he didn't deserve for that to happen. However, I'm glad that our friendship has made an impact on his level of trust for women. I'm glad that I'm doing something that can potentially help him.

I take our empty plates to the sink to wash as well as the other dishes we had used, but the sound of Ashton's chair sliding across the tile floor and his heavy footsteps end my attempt to clean.

"You don't have to do that, Emmie." Ashton takes my place in front of the sink and begins soaking the dirty pot under hot water.

"At least let me help," I beg, crossing my arms over my chest. "You went to the store for me as well as let me use your kitchen to cook. I should at least be able to help you clean up."

"Fine." He tosses me a small gray towel with a smirk. "You can dry the dishes when I'm finished washing them." I narrow my eyes, annoyed that he won't let me do more but I take his offer any way to make myself feel slightly better.

Occasionally, he splashes water or suds from the dish soap on me, using the excuse of his hand slipping as justification for his playfulness. I lightly slap the towel on his face, blond strands of hair falling into his eyes and making his hair even messier than it already is. I cover my mouth to suppress my laugh, but it doesn't help that Ashton decides to tickle my sides, forcing the laugh out of me. No matter how hard I try, I'm unable to break free from this oddly amusing torture.

The slamming of the front door causes us to pull away from each other. Ashton turns off the faucet, mumbling to himself that he'll finish the dishes later. A hungry and irritable Michael ambles into the kitchen in search of food. Watching Michael throw a tantrum because we didn't save him any spaghetti is probably the cutest thing I had ever witnessed. I've never seen a six-foot adult stomp his feet around before. Ashton offers to pick something up for Michael after he finishes his class later to make up for not saving him any food.

We sit in the kitchen together and listen as Michael tells us how screwed he is for slacking off the past few weeks. He had waited until the last minute to find the novel for history and now he only has two days to finish reading the book and write a five-page essay over it. I'm not sure how fast of a reader Michael is, but it shouldn't take him more than an afternoon to finish reading the book, and as long as he understands it, the essay should be a breeze. I probably shouldn't say anything since reading assignments like this come easy to me. Good luck, Michael.

The loud buzzing of my phone against counter startles me, making me jump from my seat a little.

"What do you want for your birthday!!??" Julia's text reads.

"The usual." I reply.

"Nothing is not an acceptable answer!" I chuckle at her response.

"What are you laughing at?" Michael asks, leaning forward to try and peek at my phone.

I reply back to Julia, telling her that I'll think of something before looking up to Michael. "It was just Julia asking me what I wanted for my birthday and she won't take "nothing" as an answer."

"When is your birthday?" Ashton asks as he works on finishing washing the dishes.

"The second of October," I say naturally. The loud clank of a ceramic plate dropping against the metal sink makes me jump again.

"That's on Sunday," he says, and I'm more concerned to see if the plate he dropped is broken or not. "As in, two days from now." I shrug.

"What's on Sunday?" Calum's voice enters the room as he steps into the kitchen, Luke following behind him after he shut the front door, joining in on our conversation.

"Emmie's birthday." Ashton says.

I'm bombarded with the same question Julia sent me: What do you want for your birthday? I give them the same reply that I give everyone else: nothing. I've never been the type of person who really cared about what they got on their birthday. Honestly, I would much rather spend my time having a nice drink and some good food as a birthday gift than receive presents that would end up being something that I would use once and never see again.

"Guys, I really don't want anything," I insist. "Please don't make a big deal out of it."

As much as they are trying to convince me otherwise, I know that they are going to conjure something up for me despite my request. I can only imagine what's going through their heads as I watch them glance at one another, occasionally raising an eyebrow as though they are having a mental conversation. Ashton's phone ends their telepathy session as he retrieves it from his pocket. His lips slowly lift up into a mischievous smirk as he read the screen before straightening it out, obviously trying not to be suspicious.

I pull out my phone and begin to text Julia. "This is all your fault."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The little wink-faced emoji annoys me just as much—if not more—as her actual face when she winks. I let out a long sigh and slide my phone into my pocket.

"We should get going, Emmie," Ashton says after finishing the rest of the dishes. "I have to go to class soon. I'll drop you off at your apartment before I head to campus."

"Okay," I say. "It was nice seeing you guys again." I give them all a small wave before following Ashton to the entryway where he grabs his keys placed on the small table near the door while I sling the strap of my backpack over my shoulder.

I'm not sure if it's the largeness of Ashton's house that—compared to my little apartment—was a mansion, or the fact the I was in the presence of good company that made me enjoy being at his there. I'd like to say it was the company, but being in a large house is equally as nice. I rest my head against the car window and watch as trees and cars blur as Ashton drives past them.

"This is the first time that I've driven you home," Ashton says, his hands tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of a song playing on the radio. "At least now I'll know where you live."

"Just don't show up unannounced," I say, directing him to make a right at the next light.

"Can't make any promises," he cheekily replies. He turns into the parking lot of the apartments, driving by all the complexes until finally reaching mine.

"Thanks for the ride," I say, stepping out of the car.

"Anytime." He smiles. "I'll probably text you during class since my dad's lectures can be pretty boring, so just look out for that."

"You're supposed to go to class to learn, not text," I playfully scold.

"Yes, but when the class is boring I'd rather have a friend to text to make it somewhat bearable." I shake my head amusingly. "I'll talk to you soon."

I nod and close the door before making my way up the stairs to the second floor. I glance over my shoulder to the parking lot to see Ashton waiting for me as I open my door. I give him a small wave and smile which he returns before taking off out of the parking lot.