Painting Flowers // Ashton Irwin [au]

Thirty-five

Song of the chapter: Fly – Sleeping With Sirens

Ashton's POV

I could look at her for an eternity, memorize every detail of her body and pick her out in less than a minute in a sea of people, but I will always be surprised when I see Emilia. She's turned me into a lovesick man, loving and lusting her like she was made for me.

"Could you be any more in love with her?" Calum says after Emmie leaves the room. "You're so obvious."

"You might as well marry her," Michael adds, adjusting the black tie around his neck.

I roll my eyes and return to tying my shoes. "I'm not marrying her after five months of dating."

"Why not?" Calum asks. "We all know you will one day."

"That's what you said about Nat."

He either ignores or doesn't hear my comment and continues on. "Hell, you could even do it today. Make it a double wedding. And the best part is that you wouldn't have to pay a dime."

"If you're so headstrong why don't you marry Julia?"

"Fine," he says. "Excuse me while I go propose to my girlfriend." He leaves the room only to return in an astounding three minutes.

Michael asks the obvious question, "How'd it go?"

"Well, it's good to know that she thinks I'm funny," Calum says, ripping his jacket from the coat hanger.

"Can we just get through this one wedding first before we start talking about imaginary weddings?" I ask.

I'm doing well not allowing my nerves to show today. I've waited months for this day. Lies were told, truths were revealed. Pain was felt, pain was inflicted. Tears were shed and tears were wiped away. But it all led to today. I've been in an abnormally good mood, and for the first time in months I feel like I can do this. I just hope this high will last from now until after the ceremony.

Luke tosses me my suit jacket. "We need to get going," he says. "You ready?"

I slip my arms through the sleeves and adjust the cuffs of my shirt underneath. "We're about to find out."

We meet with the girls and take the elevator down to the lobby. The ride down feels incredibly slow. The tapping of my foot has exceeded the threshold of tolerance and has slipped into utter annoyance for those around me. I look around at my friends and I know they want to tell me to calm down—the lines of irritation on their foreheads are screaming it for them—but not a single word falls from their lips. Part of me wishes they would say something. A little pep talk would be nice. Or maybe even some words of encouragement.

Perhaps, they've already said all they can. Now it's up to me to do the rest.

Dad is already by the hotel entrance checking his wristwatch. He pulls out his phone from his inner coat pocket, but slips it back inside when he spots us. I haven't really spoken to Dad since we went to the Birchwood's for dinner. Ever since our little heart-to-heart moment at the bar I've been craving more of his shitty advice. He may be terrible at it, but he's blunt. And that's what I need.

He compliments the girls' attire before leading us all outside. Emmie squeezes my hand when the cars Elijah called for us arrives in front of the hotel. We split into two groups and Emmie and I ride with my dad again to the venue.

It's difficult to imagine what the wedding will look like tonight, or if it will resemble the few plans that Natalie and I had. Even though nothing was definite, Natalie spent many hours conjuring up the perfect wedding plan.