ERROR // CALM AU

Princess

Warning: abuse and death.

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Pink was for girls. Boys weren't supposed to be soft. Boys were meant to be tough and strong. But Ashton Irwin wasn't that. He wanted to be a charming little flower; a dainty object of pure beauty. 

His foster father, being a man of traditional masculine values, felt differently. Every time his ward came home with a sprig of lilac tucked behind his ear, placed there by one of the sweet neighbourhood girls, he would berate and disparage him, screaming that he would never be a real man if he kept acting like a little queer. What he didn't understand was that Ashton was a little queer.

The disapproval of his sole male role model brought the small boy to tears, weeping violently into his beige pillowcase. He didn't care that his foster siblings could hear him, nor did he care whether they pitied or judged him. He had never been one to shy away from his emotions, and in this moment, his only emotion was despair.

Ashton just couldn't understand why Kurt didn't accept him for who he was. Why was he so invested in his foster son's masculinity (or lack thereof)? What could it possibly have to do with him? Why couldn't he just leave the kid alone?

The younger girl sitting on the bottom bunk of her and Ashton's shared bed stood up, resting her slender arms on the top bunk's mattress. 

"It'll be okay, Ashy," she assured gently, reaching out a hand to pat his back. "If it makes you feel better, I thought you looked beautiful."

The tawny-haired boy sniffled, raising his head up to look at her with puffy hazel eyes. "You did?"

The girl nodded, a small smile spreading across her face. "Yeah. You look beautiful all the time, whether you have flowers or not."

"Thanks, Gina," Ashton said as he sat up, wiping his tears on the back of his hand. "I think you're beautiful, too."

Gina giggled, tucking a strand of her dark brown curls behind her ear. She took Ashton's hand in hers, using it to help herself climb up to sit beside him. She pulled his stuffed bear into her lap, fingers twiddling with its messy fur.

"We could run away," she mumbled dreamily. "We could leave right now and find a little house in the country, and get jobs, and maybe get some puppies."

"How would we bring Tyler? We can't leave him here alone. Not with Kurt."

The Jamaican girl nodded in agreement, sighing lightly. Tyler was their six-year-old, wheelchair bound foster brother, and they would do anything to protect him from Kurt, even if that meant taking a few punches every now and then. The pain was always worth it to keep Tyler unharmed. If the two older kids were to leave, there would be nothing to stop the man from beating him. Being paralyzed, the poor little boy would have no escape.

Life was dark for Ashton. It had been that way since the death of his mother when he was twelve, leaving him an orphan. Anne had been his only real family, and since he was too old for anyone to want to adopt him, he went straight into the foster system. It was four years ago that he had first been placed under Kurt's so-called 'care', and he hadn't felt much joy since. 

The only real sources of hope in his life were Gina and Tyler, as well as the kind neighbourhood girls who had given him the flowers that had gotten him in trouble to begin with. 

Ashton thought flowers were the best, especially pink ones. They were so delicate and they smelled so lovely. He would give anything to be able to be like that. Always graceful, always soft, and always nice to look at. 

Ashton was happy when he was pretty.