Ashton Irwin Imagines

Bad Reputation

School isn't exactly my favorite place.

Or second favorite.

Or third.

The world seems to want me to be in as much misery as possible from 8 am to 3 pm.

But it's fine. Everything's fine.

As long as I pretend to be ok, I can get through this last week.

"Ash?" I hear the rustle of the leaves from the tree outside my window. I don't even have to look up to see that it's him. It's always him. "Ashton?"

He almost trips coming into my room, which makes me laugh.

"About time I see you smiling." He wraps me in a hug. "How are you?" His voice is soft and comforting. He must know that something is wrong by my body language.

"Y/N?" He calls my name a few times, but I don't answer. If I talk, I'll cry. If I start, I won't stop.

"Is everything ok?" He pulls away so that our eyes meet. My watery brown eyes meet his hazel orbs. "What's going on?"

I can't do this. I can't face him. I'll break. I'll fall apart. He'll leave.

"I'm fine." My voice comes out more of a whimper than a strong, firmness I was hoping for.

"No you're not." He lifts my chin so that I'm looking at him again. We sit on my bed and I let myself fall apart, collapsing into his arms.

"It's ok, y/n." He rubs my back, a soothing gesture. "Tell me what's going on."

"I don't want to." I didn't. I couldn't.

"That's ok." A peck on my forehead.

There's something about having a bad reputation that kills your self image. That makes you believe that everything around you is set up to fail. Everyone around you is going to leave.

For some reason, Ashton never did.