Heterochromia ● a.i

29

(Ashton's P.O.V.)

I shake my head in self disappointment as my door swings open. I raise my head from the wall and see Luke standing by the door, closing it behind him. I sigh and stand up.

"Sorry, to intrude," he begins, "but Violet wanted me to tell you that we were gonna go out to eat dinner later. Laith also went out to find Dylan."

I rub my hands over my face and keep my distance from him, "cool."

He stands awkwardly and chews on his lip ring. He does that when he's nervous, he has since he got it. I raise an eyebrow at him, waitng for him to say something.

"If you're going to speak, do so. If not, get out," I say coldly.

"Um, I just," he takes a deep breath, "I heard what Dylan said."

"What Dylan said about what?"

"About why you fucked her," his eyes don't meet mine and I'm growing more and more angered.

"And?"

He finally looks at me, "I'm sorry you feel that way. I didn't want to get in the way of you and Dylan-"

"Shut the fuck up," I'm not buying this bullshit, "I just heard you talking to Violet- your soulmate- about me and Dylan... fucking," the word has a sour taste in my mouth.

He gives me a what-the-hell-is-that-supposed-to-mean expression, "your point?"

"You had such a clipped and cold tone. I don't buy your bullshit."

"You are unbelievable."

"I'm unbelievable? You've got to be joking! I'm not the one who came in here and started talking bullshit about how I felt about you and your girlfriend having sex!"

He scoffs, "so Dylan is your girlfriend now? And you guys 'had sex'. Why is that so unbelievable?"

"Shut the fuck up and leave me alone," I finally say.

Luke leaves and slams the door behind him. I let out a loud groan in frustration and flop onto the bed. The pit in the bottom of my stomach begins to grow as I lay here and self-loathe. I can't believe I did that. I should have waited until I knew it meant something to both of us. I find it somewhat hard to believe that she thought it meant something. Mainly because it started with us yelling at each other. The passion was there even though I never kissed her lips. I begin feeling sick to my stomach as I relive the memories of last night. I rush to the bathroom in attempt to vomit. The guilt is phyisically making me ill. I sit by the toilet for god knows how long. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I hear is a sound of disgust.

I open my eyes and see Dylan standing in the small room for the shower. I raise to my feet and she turns around. Her eyes go wide then shoot to the floor. She makes her way by me with her toiletry items. I follow her out of the bathroom and don't say a thing. I don't know what state she's in right now, and I'm waiting fo her to speak to find out. I stand in the bathroom door-frame. I watch as she packs all of her things from the dresser into her suitecase. Then her actions hit me.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"To a different room," she answers dryly.

"Why?" I keep my voice soft and low.

She huffs, stops what she's doing, and turns to face me, "oh, I don't know, maybe it's because the person I'm supposed to love for the rest of my life fucked me out of jealousy and teased me for his own self-fucking-pity."

Don't sugarcoat it.

"We have to talk about this," my voice comes out more of a begging tone than a demanding one.