The day had already been monumentally shitty. The worst of the worst days. An absolute steaming-pile-of-crap day. So, really, it was only natural to finish it with a perfect cherry on top - his call from Death-Cast.
He was alone when the unmistakabl...
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𝙰𝚜𝚑𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟹:𝟷𝟿𝚊𝚖
The first time Ashton saw him was like seeing the sun peek through the clouds after months of endless rain. One second, Ashton was in the shadows, cold and alone, and then, quick as he could blink, he wasn't anymore because he was there. Luke was there. He was there in all of his too-tall, flawlessly blue-eyed and blonde-haired, winning smile perfection. He was there and Ashton was immediately enthralled. He was only fifteen, sure, and Luke was nearly twenty, but Luke looked at him in a way no one ever had before. In a way that made Ashton feel wanted.
Things started slowly; a smile when they crossed paths in town, hands brushing together when Luke and his business partner would come to talk with Harry about sales, whispered promises that they'd have to get to know each other soon. It wasn't long, though, before it escalated. (Not so) Innocent gestures turned into Luke climbing into Ashton's window at night, showering him with gifts and affection and words of affirmation. He would take Ashton driving for hours and hours, until the sun had set and risen again and Ashton had long fallen asleep in the passenger's seat. He would make Ashton promise to keep their love between them so no one could steal it away and ruin it. And Ashton... well, he wanted to believe it was all genuine. He wanted to believe that this beautiful man actually loved him and cherished him. He did believe that Luke loved him.
But then the bad things started.
Ashton was sixteen the first time Luke hit him. It was a stupid argument, really. Ashton wanted to introduce Luke to Harry and Louis as his boyfriend. As the love of his life. He had no fear, because, honestly, the age gap was only four years and Luke treated him so well, but Luke refused. Adamantly. Ashton kept pushing and pushing and pushing until he was slammed into a wall, eyesight going fuzzy and ears ringing as a hand collided with his face. At the time, he couldn't even process that it had been Luke. His brain had gone elsewhere, and it was only when he came back to reality, cradled in Luke's arms on his bedroom floor that he put the pieces together.
"I'm so sorry, Ash," Luke had whimpered into Ashton's ear, holding him to his chest and running his fingers through Ashton's blonde curls. "Baby, I am so sorry. You know I would never intentionally hurt you. I love you. I love you so much, Ashton. Please forgive me."
And Ashton believed him. Of course he believed him. He had no reason not to. Anyone who had ever hurt him before showed no remorse. This was the first time someone had been sorry for treating him badly, and he wasn't a mean person, one that held unnecessary grudges. Forgiving Luke was the easiest thing he'd ever had to do.
But, then, a one-time thing turned into a two-time thing and a three-time thing until Ashton had to start buying makeup to cover the bruises. But, even still, Ashton didn't leave. He stayed, and he continued to love because it was all he knew how to do. It was what Lauren had always done, and she was the best person Ashton knew. He wanted to be like her; he wanted to make her proud.
