5SOS Imagines

Ashton - You Stargaze With Him

Author: Rhine

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It's bliss, you think.

There's no other word for it, no other way you could describe the way you felt now, limbs lazily stretched out on the hood of the car with your fingers encased in his hands, head tilted to the sky.

You always had a good time with Ashton when it came to his spontaneous trips – messy paint fights, rustic antique shops, abandoned park trails – but this, you

think this tops it all.

He took your hand with that dimpled smile, eyes shining as he said let's go, the words leaving his mouth with a hurried breath as if there wasn't a second to waste.

But he knows and you know that you'd give him all of your time, no questions asked.

You don't bother to ask where at this point – he'd take you someplace through winding highways, his hand on your lap while the other rested on the steering wheel, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror before lingering on you. He'd take you with your hand in his, footsteps sure, map discarded, smile on his lips as the sun tanned his skin.

You've lost track of all the places you've been with Ashton, lost count of all the blurry pictures and silly-faced film of the two of you – but this particular trip you know you won't be forgetting anytime soon.

You're parked out on the side of some lonely highway, nothing but an endless stretch of leafy fields before you, a faint outline of smoky mountains in the distance.

He took you wherever, and he stopped with a this looks good enough even though the view here was no different from the same stretch of endless field a mile ago.

You looked at him with quirked eyebrows, but he merely stops the car on the side of the road, extending a large hand to you – trust me.

And you take it with a little smile of your own, following him out, letting the cool breeze run its fingers through your hair, caressing your exposed skin with a gentle touch.

The last light of the day washes over your skin, the weak rays of the late afternoon dusting everything with the tints of gold that always appeared just before sunset.

And there he is, bathed in the dying sun – bronze curls tipped gold, hazel eyes set on fire with yellow sparks and brown undertones, tanned skin with shadows and highlights painted with an artist's precision.

And oh, that sunbeam smile of his – he could be a god, and if he was the sun then now you'd know why Icarus chose to fly to him.

You would too.

You're standing there, watching the sun set over the field, setting everything on fire with shimmers of gold and hues of yellow with its dying breath.

And when the shadows take over, when the yellow fades to a smudge of purple and blue and black – Ashton pulls you close, gently placing his hands on your hips before picking you up and setting you on the hood of the car, touch lingering as he stares at you with his sparkling eyes.

The sun's gone, but you can still see the gold in his hazel orbs.

He climbs onto the hood next to you with ease, the car groaning slightly with the weight of you two – but after a slight shift, it's silent – nothing but the soft breaths of Ashton's lips and the quiet hum of the distant countryside.

And you watch as the stars come out, one by one.

A smile stretches on your lips as the white pinpricks start to dot the inky sky – you never get to see them, not like this – not so beautifully scattered and twinkling down at you – you never got this kind of magically fanciful feeling from the night sky, not in the city.

But out here – out here with Ashton, his hand wrapped around yours and his sweater draped around you – you're wrapped in the beauty of it, in the magic of something so simple, in the familiarity of Ashton and the wonder of galaxies so far away.

He points out the stars with carefully aimed fingers to the sky, voice low for just you to hear despite the isolation from the world.

See, that one there is Polaris – right at the end of the Big Dipper, see? And there's Lyra – bit of a box shape just a bit to the side – the bright one at the tip is Vega – the one winking down at you.

His long fingers are stretched outwards, almost as if he could reach out and touch them; eyes the sparkled as bright as the stars themselves.

And you follow his directions, squinting to find the shapes that he so easily saw, smiling every time you successfully identified yet another constellation.

That's my girl.

And he smiles at you with that wide dimpled grin, so proud for something so simple – and you melt.

You're melting from the way his thumb rubs over your knuckles subconsciously, for the way his fingers dance across the night sky, for the way his hushed whispers disappear into the crisp air of the night.

You turn to him and you're oh-so lost in the galaxies in his eyes, and you can't help to think that this is where this beautiful boy belongs – out in the open, out with the stars.

You can't read the meanings in his eyes, but you sure understand the taste of his lips and the pull of his fingertips as he tugs you closer, warm arms shielding you from the night's chill.

It's quiet, when his words trail off and he's lost in the sky while you're lost in him.

It feels like the world's suspended, like time is just some faraway force that didn't apply to you, not when you were in Ashton's arms, blanketed by his warmth and the starts of the night sky.

And then it's nothing but the galaxies shining down on you, the earth's soft whispers and the circles he draws on your arm.

And oh, there's no other word for it.

It's bliss.

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