Painting Flowers // Ashton Irwin [au]

Eight

Ashton's POV

"Don't lie to that friend of yours."

"You shouldn't hide things from her."

"Tell her the truth about who you were talking to."

"Don't be like me."

I scroll through the messages, reading them over and over again to the point where I can recite them back if I was asked to. I figured that after our phone call she wouldn't try to contact me, but from the moment that I turned my phone back on, she doesn't fail to send a message at least once a day.

Every time a new message pops up, I get stuck in the abyss of my own thoughts. What is she trying to do? I already know that I have to tell Emilia that it was Natalie and not my mum who called this past weekend. Is this her way of making sure I don't turn into her and keep secrets from Emilia? Is this her way of protecting me in order to make amends?

Fuck that.

I don't need her to tell me what I already know. She should worry about her own relationship and stay the hell out of mine.

She is ruining me. I don't feel myself. Hell, I'm not myself and I know it. I've tried to suppress it, but I'm slowly losing my mind. I keep on lying because it's the only thing I know how to do. It's a habit that I want to break because I don't want to lie to Emilia. I'm an idiot. She's the only one who can get me out of this and yet I continue to tell her everything is fine when in reality, everything is fucked up and I don't know how to handle it.

Fed up with myself, I tap on Emilia's name and type a message, telling her that I'm coming over to her place to talk. I shut my phone off after I send the text, not wanting to take any chance of hearing it go off just to see another text from Nat, and slide it into my pocket.

_____

Emilia's POV

I don't feel the envelope cut my finger as I rip the seal open and pull out the sheet of folded paper. I smooth out the creases and briefly scan the paper. Several words are crossed out, creating large scribbles throughout the entire letter. At the very top, 'Em,' and 'Emmie' are scratched out, as if he doesn't know what is appropriate to call me by.

Emilia,

You're probably wondering why I sent you a letter and to be quite honest, I am too. I was angry that you got me arrested but I understand now why you had to do it. I want to say that I'm sorry. It's probably pathetic of me to apologize to you in such an informal way, but I don't think security would like it if I tried to leave my cell and go out into the public wearing an orange jumpsuit. I don't think you would like it either.

I'm getting sidetracked. I also wanted to tell you that I'm getting help now. I'm seeing a psychologist weekly to help with my...issues. I don't really want to go into detail about it only because that would take a couple of pages to explain and I was only given this one sheet of paper so I have to choose wisely as to what I write. I wish I could just send you my medical record so that you can see why I acted the way I did but apparently it's confidential and illegal to send to someone who isn't a professional. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I'm getting better. I'm not fixed but then again, I don't think I'll ever be.

I'm sorry for hurting you. I knew what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. I know what I did was wrong; trying to take advantage of you while you were drunk, the business party, barging into your boyfriend's house and attacking you. It was all wrong. I couldn't control myself. I just had this desire to keep you to myself. You were there for me. You made me feel loved. That's all I wanted, but I went about it the wrong way and hurt you. I can't forgive myself for doing that and I'm repenting here in my cell like I should.