youngblood | a.i.

twenty six || pinky promise

And I hated that it said your name.

I thought about ignoring it, just like he had me for the past week, but that part of me that craved my hatred for him made me want to pick up. My mind didn't refocus fast enough to click accept before the phone stopped ringing and the name disappeared— just like he had.

I threw it into my lap, not wanting to think about the fact he'd finally reached out. My hands fell to my hair in stress and confusion, trying to go back to the happy thoughts that usually occupied my roof time. 

Until my phone started ringing again.

His name illuminated my phone again, and I let it ring out, not wanting to pick it up. If he really cared, why can't he say it to my face? I let it ring out until the only sound returned to being my suffocating thoughts. It didn't matter how much hatred I had for him, he managed to occupy all of my thoughts. They were quickly interrupted again though by my ringtone once more.

With his name across the top of the phone, I clicked accept, bringing it to my ear with anger in my veins. "What the hell do you want, Ashton?" I quickly snapped, not giving him a moment to speak.

"Auni?" he responded.

Something sounded off, but I couldn't put my finger on what. "Yeah. What's wrong?" I asked, trying to get him to speak more so I could figure out what was different than usual.

"I don't know," he slurred through the phone. You were drunk.

"Ash, are you drinking?" I quickly asked, feeling my anger subside as my concern grew.

"Mhm," he hummed, obviously out of it.

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself. "You're not having a party or anything. There aren't any tonight or Luke would be at it." Hell, I wasn't even drinking. Why was he?

"Because," he said quietly, not giving me an answer.

I sat silently for a moment, waiting for him to continue. "Because why?" I continued when he didn't.

"Because I started thinking," he admitted. "And I wanted the thoughts to stop."

It scared me how much he sounded like me at this moment. "And what were you thinking about?" I asked as I stood up from my spot, walking back towards my window. We sat silently for a moment as I crawled back into my room, and I waited patiently for him to respond.

"You."

My breath hitched in my throat at his words. He was thinking about me too. He just opted to drown out the thoughts instead of facing them. "What about me?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"About how much I hate myself for what I did," he admitted.

I sighed, knowing he was talking about when he left me back in June. "Ash, you can't change it now," I told him, trying to comfort his unstable mind in any way I could. "What happened, happened."

He laughed lightly. "Yeah, I really can't. I tried." I sat silently, not knowing what to say. "If I could take it all back, Auni, I would," he told me, making my mind truly think about what he was saying.

He wanted to take back everything, go back to the Ashton and Anastasia who couldn't even be in the same room together, and a part small part of me broke inside. I didn't respond, rather let him continue his ramble. "If I could take it all back and we went back to the Ashton you hated and the Auni I wished I could have helped, I would," he explained. "At least that way a part of you would still belong to me, even if it was the part that hates me."

I didn't know what to say. My mind could barely process the words he was saying before he started his next sentence. "Ashton, you're drunk," I finally stated the obvious.

"Yeah, because I couldn't stop thinking about you," he retorted.

"Why were you thinking about me in the first place?" I sighed, not even wanting to know at this point.

"I came to the lake, without you this time," he told me.

"Did you drive there drunk?" I asked, fearing the answer would be yes.

"No. I might look stupid but I'm not that dumb," he told me, allowing a small piece of me to be relieved. "But I have been thinking about going swimming," he chuckled as I listened closer, the sound of water obvious now that he'd mentioned it.

I stopped myself from replying with the snarky comment that came to mind, rather letting the part of me that was genuinely concerned takeover. "Ashton, you are not jumping into that river drunk. You'll die," I told him, standing up from my bed as my concern rose.

"Yeah," he sighed. "That's the point." I felt my heart drop, fearing that he was more like me than I ever understood. "Wouldn't that fix all of our problems?" he continued.

"You don't mean that," I pleaded, hoping to god he would tell me he was joking.

"Name one thing it wouldn't. Just completely erasing myself from your storyline," he slurred. I could hear him moving on the other end, and the worst part of my mind got ahold of me, knowing he was on the dock.

"Ashton, please just listen to me on one thing," I begged as I grabbed my keys and ran out my door. "I don't care what you've done to me, what kind of pain you've caused me- nothing about you leaving would help."

"But then I wouldn't be able to hurt you anymore," he said, his voice quiet.

I raced out to my car, starting it as I processed what he was saying. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing, but in that moment, the small piece of me that held on to the Ashton I knew and wanted to trust was in full swing.

"Ashton, I don't care if you want to forget anything between us ever happened. I don't care if you want to go back to hating each other, but you're not allowed to leave me," I admitted as I threw the car out of the neighborhood and on the route he had taken me down just a week earlier. "That would hurt me more than anything."

"You can't leave me either then," he spoke, the sound of the water slowly becoming louder over the phone.

"I won't. I promise," I told him as I sped down the streets of the town I hated so much.

In that moment, I didn't care what I was promising. As much as I hated everything about Ashton Irwin, I couldn't lose him. He was right about a part of me belonging to him. No matter how much I hated him, that part of me belonged to him, and he knew it. Even if that part was pure and honest hatred, it would still hurt just as much if it was ripped away.

"Pinky promise?" he asked, his voice quiet like he didn't want to admit he remembered.

"Yeah, pinky promise," I whispered as I leaned down to kiss my thumb. As sped through the streets of our town, I heard the sound of his lips meeting his thumb through the phone too.