moonlight [cashton]

wish we never met

Calum's eyes kept shifting around the room. Never focusing on anything or anyone in particular.

The music was loud, following the beat of his heart, that was going too fast. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.

He didn't want to be here. But Luke had insisted.

He was twirling the straw around his cranberry vodka, not being able to sit still.

Suddenly his eyes found a focus point in the crowded room across the bar, and a ringing sound replaced the throbbing bassline.

He wore a new shirt and his hair was short. But it was still the same brown-haired boy, he unfortunately knew too well, he thought bitterly to himself.

And for a moment their eyes met, but Ashton didn't glance back at his direction for the rest of the night. Calum might as well not have been in the room.

Ashton was laughing at something one of his friends said, whilst he had his arm around a pretty brunette. For each time Ashton smiled, Calum's heart broke a little piece by piece. It was a reminder of how happy Ashton was, and how miserable Calum felt.

He couldn't help himself reminiscing of old times. He remembered them together in New York City. How happy they had been. Ashton had even changed his flight, so they could stay together for longer. Back then they were simply happy in each other's company.

God, he thought to himself. I can't believe, I thought, I had gotten it right.

His mood had instantly dropped, and Luke had taken notice, and he sent him a worried glance.

Calum just shook his head and told him, he was going to go home.

Luke gave him a nod of understanding – or of pity, he wasn't too sure. But at this point he didn't really care.

A glance at the clock told him that it was three am, when he left the bar. The moonlight illuminated the street, and he spotted Ashton's black leatherjacket clad back and the brunette from before 20 meters ahead. They were walking away whilst holding hands. Away from the bar. Away from him.

A tear escaped his eye, and he mentally scolded himself.

Oh, how he wished the man before him was a stranger. A man he had no memories with.

Instead the man walking away from him, who couldn't even spare him a second glance, held the best four years of Calum's life.

For four years he had been the source of his happiness, but also frustration in the end. Now he was the source of his pain.

He couldn't help but wish, they never had met each other in the first place, as much as it hurt to admit.

He willed himself to go home, before the sun would rise. At home he could break down at the thought of what Ashton probably was doing right now. Surely, he was taking off her dress. All whilst Calum was lying in his bed, trying to mend his broken heart.