t h i r t y - s i x

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I owed this chapter to you guys about 1.3k ago. Which, yeah, I've reached 60k, which is totally fucking awesome. I fucking love you guys.

This has a word count of 4596 words, if you're wondering why this took so long, by the way. Be ready to read a bunch again. It's mostly just cute, fluffy Lashton with a bit of serious shit in it, so be prepared.

AND JUST TO LET YOU ALL KNOW, AFTER A NUMBER OF FUCK UPS REGARDING THE CHARACTERISTICS OF AUSTRALIA, I HAVE CHANGED THEIR LOCATION TO CHICAGO, ILLINOIS IN THE US, BECAUSE I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT AUSTRALIA AND FUCKED IT UP A BUNCH. SO YEAH. NO MORE AUSTRALIA. JUST CHICAGO, BECAUSE I'M FAMILIAR WITH CHICAGO, AT LEAST.

Okay, now you can skip over this if you want, but for those of you who've seen Connor Franta's coming out video, it has inspired me to tell you all that I'm bisexual, and seeing as you're all here reading this insanely homoerotic piece of fiction, I'm going to hopefully assume that none of you have a problem with that. I've only told two friends, and now all of you know, and maybe I'll come out to everyone else eventually. But, yeah, so I like girls, like, a lot, and I like boys, like, a lot, but I still promise I won't be writing any straight fic any time soon because gay boys are still my forte only. And I know it's probably not as big a deal as it is for full on gay people to come out, but I'm half gay, at least, and it's still a big deal for me, and I still am terrified of telling anyone else. So yeah. Okay. Bye. I love you guys.

 

{Unedited}

Ashton

I'm not sure that there's a single way in the entirety of the universe to move past losing your only remaining family member for, quite possibly, the rest of the eternity.

So I can wrap myself in barbed wire and say that I've been through worse, or that maybe it is better for Harry, but the fact of the matter is, the human race is selfish. And I'd rather have Harry all to myself forever than leave him with people who may well treat him better than anyone ever has.

Luke had to practically drag me out of the building, yesterday. I started crying and though Harry's eyes leaked a bit, I struggled and yelled and would've given anything for another hour. And so I yelled at them that it wasn't fair, and Luke had to grip me by the shoulders and push me out the door and into the passenger side, where he proceeded to drive me home rather.

And then I yelled at him. And I wish I didn't.

He walked me to my, once again, empty room, and he tried to talk to me, but I just yelled. I screamed and yelled and thrashed around when he tried to touch me and told him to get out, told him I didn't want to see him.

And I hated myself for that.

Because he was only trying to help.

And I wish I knew how to respond to that.

So I was sitting in the sill of the open window, with my legs dangling freely against the side of the building from the fourth story, with a smoke lit between my fingers.

The ash blew off the end of the cigarette in the wind, occasionally landing on my leg and scalding the skin, but I simply endured it. Endured the pain like I always did.

And on a scale ending on the loss of your family, I can say I'd rather be thrown into a pit of scorching ash and burn off an entire layer of skin then lose my family again.

It was just a simple reminder that there wasn't much else the universe could do to me, because there wasn't much left of me, anyway.

So here I was, dangling out of a window four stories up, with cigarette ash burning the skin on my leg, thinking about how many times the universe has completely and utterly fucked me over, when the door to my dorm slammed open.

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