killer, m.clifford/a,irwin

16

FROM LUKE:

i let you sob all weekend alone but now i'm going to keep u company

It was Sunday night and Luke had been partially right about my weekend of horrendous ugly crying – not that I'd ever admit it to him. As far as he was concern he's never won an argument.

As much as I loved Luke it still hurt to talk to anyone about this. I just wanted to forget about everything. I think Luke assumed I would've demanded answers from Sydney by now, but I couldn't even stomach the thought of her.

Sydney, my best friend, had kissed my supposedly dead boyfriend. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Had I fallen asleep and somehow woken up in the middle of a Gossip Girl episode?

As much as it killed me to know Ashton was alive I had no fucking clue what to do with that information. I had cried and grieved over him for seven months. I had just started to think I could move on with Michael, maybe give myself a chance again but now he was back.

I exhaled sharply thinking over that one thought. Ashton Irwin was back. I looked over at my desk, where a scrunched up piece of paper laid. Hesitantly I reached out for it and uncurled the ball of fury. I had written down all the questions that plagued my mind in an effort to clear my head out.

My handwriting was rushed and the questions were improvised all around the page. It was not a neat list. It was the scrambling's of a young girl who thought she'd lost her mind. I slowly read them all, despite having them burned into my memory.

Ashton is alive?

I think that was the one concept I couldn't wrap my head around. It was also the one think I refused to let myself think about. It could have been trick lighting or something. Maybe it was someone who looked like Ashton. I didn't know. All I knew was that if I really let myself believe that the love of my life was back then it'd shatter me to find out he wasn't.

Sydney kissed Ashton?

I'd slap the bitch.

Sydney knew Ashton was alive?

I'd slap both of those bitches.

Before I could continue reading my phone buzzed again with an incoming text from Luke.

FROM LUKE:

i'm not fcking around. i'm outside with two tubes of melting ice-cream and your neighbor is looking at me weirdly. pls come save me before i tell her she looks like a sagging sack of skin

Despite everything that had happened over the last five days, Luke had managed to make me laugh. I covered my mouth, a little shocked at the deliriously happy sound that had escaped me. I rubbed my thumb over my lower lip before deciding to go let Luke in.

Holing myself up in my room clearly wasn't good for my mental health. It hadn't even been a full week and I was writing down lists of questions that I'd never ask for fear of the answers.