Lashton Moments.

falling in love.

ashton irwin. 

The crowd was flailing their arms above their heads, shrieking like their life defended on it as we introduced ourselves to the crowd. They were screaming profanities and Rated R stuff so loud and we can't help but chuckle every time we hear it.

"Hi! I'm Michael! Wooo yeah!" Michael exclaimed, holding his hand up in a llama-form while trying to sound like punk rock but ended up sounding like a dying whale on it's period.

"Hi everyone! I'm Column!" He purposely mispronounced his name, "Rock on, Manila!" The audience cheered, chanting our band's name '5 Seconds of Summer' repeatedly as we beamed to them.

"Hi I'm Luke, the living representation of French Fries! Tall, gorgeous and yummy!" He stated, licking his lips as he winked at the crowd. Girls squealed loudly, probably losing their voice before the show actually starts.

I was probably one of those teenagers who screeched, probably losing their virginities or their ovaries exploding. I felt as if he directed the simple action to me, the one action that makes everything in my body tingle and shake. I felt mesmerized by his action; the way his purplish-pinkish tongue swiped over his dark, metallic lip ring aroused me. The way his right eye closed and opened in a heartbeat made me feel like a middle-schooler who got noticed by his or her crush.

His voice sounded rich against my ears, an effortless lullaby that can lull me into a deep slumber anytime he'd whisper it breathlessly against my ears. His deep, throaty voice that can lure anyone into his deadly traps. One simple note out of his mouth can undemandingly strip a girl out of her panties, wetting the ground she's standing at. A meaningless word that can create millions of definitions just by him muttering it onto the crowd. 

His blue orbs that burns into my sides quite most of the time that takes my breath away. Those stupidly, annoyingly attractive blue eyes that can sweep you off your feet in a matter of a blink. The way those obnoxious body part twinkles and sparkles every time he laughs that graceful sound. The way they just innocently travel around the vicinity, amusement and amazement oozing through his passive gaze every time we lurk into new territory. The way they flutter open and close, your lashes gently hitting just above your fascinating cheek bones. The way they would blink rapidly and fastly whenever you're asking someone a favor. The way they just exist, making everything dark and lifeless turn into light and happiness.

The way your lanky yet strong build stands proudly on top of the stage, holding the microphone close to your mouth to sing or to speak. The way your back slouches slightly whenever you're bored or using your phone. The way your arms swing back and forth and your almighty thighs march around the place ever so smugly. The way you strum your bass guitar and run around the platform, singing beautifully while you dash across the stadium like you own it. The way your hands would scratch the back of your neck awkwardly or your nose cutely. The way they would cover your sweet mouth when you laugh too loudly. The way it would wipe your sweat off your forehead every time you finish performing live, a proud smile plastered on your face irremovably.

The way your lips would twitch and turn up to a smile whenever you see something you adore. Dimples appear adjacent to it whenever you'd show that magnificent view to everyone. Your plump lips which housed that ever so attractive lip ring would stretch into a heartwarming smile that can melt everyone in a second. The way a giggle, chuckle, a grimace, a sound, a barely coherent word would escape the unexplored cranny behind your perfectly-shaped white teeth, soothing each and every listener that would focus intently because of the way you talk, sing, speak, or the way it just turns up into a smile.

The way you would comfort me or our other mates whenever we are feeling down. A stupid yet adorable excuse just to get to cuddle with me, watch Spongebob episodes on marathon while chewing on caramel-flavored popcorn. A simple rub in the arm or hug from the back that would instantly remove all the stress stored and bottled up in my body, releasing all the negative and pessimistic thoughts reigning my mind. A simple kiss on the shoulder, on the knuckle, on the cheek or a nanosecond peck in the lips that would make me flustered and blushy. The way you slacken a problemed person just by giving them life-changing yet effortless advice, or whenever you see a homeless person wandering in the streets, you would not hesitate to give your entire Subway to him. 

And the way that you stare at me most of the time. At first, it took me off guard and made me confused. You look at me like I emit sunshine through my chuckle. You gape at me like I'm a model from a summer-edition magazine. You drool over me like I'm a six-packed body-builder who continuously flexes my biceps or shows off my wonderful abs. You stare at me like I'm someone who deserves special attention and treatment, like I'm a porcelain doll that needs to be housed in a glass-showcase cabinet. You goggle at me like I just came out of the pool, rivulets of chlorine-filled liquid dripping through my body. You gawk at me like I'm one of the 7 New Wonders of the World, admiring my fictitious elegance and astonishing view.

The way you just be you. Awkward, cute, adorable, speechless, scared, bashful, happy, cheerful, anxious, nervous, jittery, or overwhelmingly good-looking. Your corny jokes that isn't supposed to be funny but I just can't help but crack up at it's cheesiness and originality. Your pick-up lines that doesn't seem to work on anybody you try to make conversation with. Your weird yet lovable obsession with penguins, the way you bounce up and down excitedly when it's mentioned.

You've been there for me all the time. Ranging from my relationship difficulties, my insecurities, all the hate I get, to people with homophobia who seemingly just exists to piss me and the other homosexuals off. You are always at my side, whispering motivational things when people judge me for what I truly am. I always have your shoulder to cry on whenever a friend of mine leaves me for being me. I always have your back to just lean on whenever I want, you not complaining at all because of my weight or me being clingy. You are just there, like a gem of a true best friend, who treasures and cherishes me like I'm a rare, classic, fragile glass figurine from the Roman empire. You are a diamond, a gem, a ruby, a vinyl, a treasure yourself.

"Ashton?" Luke called, and I was snapped out of my trance.

"Huh?" I looked around and realized we were still at the venue, thousands of people awaiting the introduction for myself. "Oh, uhh, I-I-I'm Ash-Ashton Irwin! Uhhh, yeah!" I awkwardly said, and this was suddenly reminiscent to the first day of Year 1. 

While playing She Looks So Perfect, I realize something.

I was falling in love with my best friend, who looks so perfect standing there, dominating the stage with his powerful vocals and enticing look.

¤

apparently, me being sick means more creative juice coming out of my mind. wow, amazing. anyways, wrote this with a throbbing head and a sore throat, accompanied by a runny nose and a stiff body. hopefully you'll enjoy this piece of crap i'm posting bc i am and that's what all that matters.

but you know what would truly make me happy? this reaching 1k reads. welp, that is too much to ask for but a boy can dream, can't he? 

stay awesome, awesome person!

p.s.: photo from reginahemmings in tumblr! cute and romantic. go follow her! c: