Heterochromia ● a.i

48

[WARNING: shitty smut ahead, beware]

(Dylan's P.O.V.)

July seventh.

Today, is July seventh.

I honestly don't know how we got here but whalla, here we are.

After Ashton and I cuddled in bed for three days straight, after my dinner with Harry's mum, he made an appointment with my doctor - like I promised he could. I went and it ended up being a therapeutic session for me because I got to talk to Dr. Berry about everything. He gave me something that could possibly help with my vomiting but it won't help with any other sickness. When I told Ashton the good news he smiled and hugged me tighter than ever.

Since then I've had the common cold, which has changed to the flu and strep within the past week. Ashton has gotten a job and started doing online classes for college. I've watched him grow from some awkward kid living with his family to a man living in an apartment with a job. But watching him grow also means watching his hair grow and there is nothing that is pissing me off more at the moment. It's long, and I like it, but it's too long. I like short haired Ash from last year. He was so cute and he always wore this hat, God he was cute.

I'm currently sitting on the couch while Bridesmaids plays on the TV and Ashton is sat at the dining table with his laptop. He's working on his work for class and he has the day off. He got a job at a music store in the city and it doesn't pay horribly. I got a job at the bookstore and that isn't so bad either. I haven't been able to work - obviously - but I'm still glad I got the job. I'm not really paying attention to the movie, it's only background noise. The clicking of Ashton's fingers on his laptop is driving me insane - a side effect of my medication.

It basically makes me irritated with almost everything he does, so I don't focus on how much I love and care for him and get sick. I've been good at hiding how much it's been making me annoyed with him when he talks to me. His presence isn't a trigger, just his actions. I don't understand how it helps but it's how it works, so as long as I'm not vomiting every twenty minutes, I'm okay with it.

I have a book in my lap and I highlight every line that makes me happy or giddy or feel any emotion really. I sniffle every few minutes because of a cold I somehow caught in July - according to Ashton's knowledge. Every few minutes he sighs and I'm slowly getting more aggravated. After another two sighs I snap.

"What the fuck could you possibly be doing that's making you sigh so much?" I snap.

He looks at me with a very confused expression. "I'm uh, I'm sorry?"

"Oh my god," I huff and roll my eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly.

"I'm sick and you're being annoying."

"How am I being annoying?"

"You're being annoying with your constant sighs and tap-tap-tapping on your computer. There is too much noise and I'm going crazy."

He slowly gets up, walks behind the arm of the couch, and begins massaging my shoulders. "You need to relax, baby," he whispers in my ear and I take a deep breath.

"I know," I say quietly. He kisses the base of my neck and slowly moves up behind my ear. His teeth tug at my earlobe and I quickly pull away and turn to face him. "I'm not having sex with you."

He huffs in annoyance as his arms drop to his side. "Why are you so moody? I'm trying to help you relax."

Oh, if he only knew. "Whatever."

"Jesus, Dylan. Ever since you've got on those meds you've acted like you hate me." He crosses his arms over his chest.

I close my eyes and sigh, "I don't hate you."