Imprinted → lashton [book one]

4.1

a/n: the rest of the story is gonna be in ash's p.o.v., then the epilogue is gonna be in third p.o.v.. two more chapters, damn.

ashton's p.o.v.

I was telling Luke about my early graduation today. I was nervous. I planned a little picnic for us, under the stars with sandwiches and whatnot.

I had an hour before I was going to get him to go to the park, and it was just beginning to get dark. I was dressed in a flannel, buttoned all the way up except for the top two and my skinny jeans, the usual attire.

I was pacing, rambling about how nervous I was to my not-caring father, who was sat on the couch letting out occasional "it'll be fine"s and "he'll understand"s.

I finally left the house at 6:50 and walked calmly over to Luke's. By the time I was at his door, it was 6:59, and the nerves started setting in again. I shifted the basket to my other hand before going to knock. Before my hand even made contact with the door, it was thrown open by Luke, making me jump and pull my hand back.

"Hey, cutie," he greets, stepping out the door, closing it behind him. I smile, not allowing my nervousness to show. Why would I?

"It's kind of chilly out here," he laughs. "It's summer in Australia, why is it cold?" He added on as we headed towards the park. I was a little cold, so I lie my head on his shoulder, letting him wrap his arm around my shoulder.

The grass painted my ankles with the dew that's already starting to form, before we lie down the blue blanket I before I sat the basket down.

"So," he says suddenly, grabbing my hand. I look at him before cocking my head to the side, probably looking like a dog. "What were you gonna tell me?" He laughs.

"Oh," I mumble. "After we eat."

-

We eventually did finish, obviously, and I couldn't come up with a good excuse on why I couldn't tell him.

"Luke," I say, making him raised his already arched eyebrows. That's a feature I like about him, awkwardly. I rest my hands back in the damp grass. I wanted to slap myself from how nervous I am.

"Luke, I'm graduating in 3 weeks."

He didn't reply at first, so I continued. "And I'm moving to Manchester in my dorm in 4, then I'm starting classes in May."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me? How long have you known?" He snorts, crossing his arms like a 5 year-old who couldn't get a Kit-Kat from the store.

"2 weeks."

He snorted this time.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?"

No reply. I couldn't see his face clearly in the lighting, but I could tell he was staring at his hands as his thumbs fiddled with each other. "Luke?"

"Why don't you trust me?" He whispers, his voice cracking at the end. I shook my head, "No, no, don't cry."

"Graduating early. Wow. I'm dating a genius," he whispers. I shrug, "I wouldn't say a genius. I just have good grades." He chuckles.

He didn't talk after that, he just looked at the stars as if he was alone. As if I wasn't there. I suppose he has to get used to it like that.