Heterochromia ● a.i

49

(Ashton's P.O.V.)

It's July twelfth and Dylan is beyond depressed.

She went to Harry's grave earlier today with his family, left some flowers, said some things, went to breakfast, cried, and came home. She's been sitting on the couch since she got back. She's wearing a knee-length, black dress, with a high, lace, neckline, and thick straps. She didn't bother to take off her shoes. Her hair is still braided to the side and pulled into a bun in the back.

I don't like it when she's upset. It makes me upset. And now that we are closer than ever I feel almost every damn thing she feels and it's making me sick. I got my haircut because of two reasons. One, she wanted me to cut it off, and two, I needed it off. It was getting in the way of everything I did and I looked like an egg when I put it in a ponytail. It was a spontaneous decision and I'm pretty proud of it actually. Not only did it result in great sex and figuring out a kink of mine, but it looks good. I like it better than my long hair, but not as much as my hair a couple years ago.

I walk back to the bedroom with a box of books my mom dropped off that I forgot at my house. I see Twilight sitting on top and remember the paper inside. I flip through the pages until I see the paper and I can't stop scanning over the word written on the front. I don't even know what this is or how I got it. I'm trying to remember who gave it to me and when I got it and why it says-

Wait.

I know where this is from.

"Please, just... give this to her when you know you love her."

"Hey, Dylan?" I say as I walk into the living room.

She looks up at me with tear stained cheeks, "yeah?"

"Do you wanna go to our spot? Just to, ya know, clear your head?" I suggest.

She gives me a small smile and nods, "sure."

I give her a wide one back, "okay. How about we get you out of that dress and into some sweatpants?"

...

(Dylan's P.O.V.)

X-amount of time later, we arrive at the field and are sitting on the blanket, looking at the sky. Ashton has been fidgeting since we laid down and it's irritating me. He's like an addict, itching for more of whatever he's on. I look over at him and he gives me an uncomfortable smile.

"What is up with you?" I ask.

He looks panicked. "Nothing."

I cock my eyebrow, "really?"

"Yeah, r-really."

"Ashton."

"Just lay with me. Please?"

I sigh, "fine."

We watch the clouds as they roll over and through the sky, crashing into each other but not making a sound. Ashton plays with my hair and I can't help but think of Harry. It's been two years exactly. I wish he was here. I wish I could hold him. I wish I could tell him how much I love him.

"Dylan?" I'm shaken.

I open my eyes and look at Ashton. I must have fallen asleep. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay? You started whining and crying in your sleep." The sun has begun to set and Ashton's eyes are full of caution.

I sit up and rub my eyes, "yeah. I'm uh, I'm fine."

I follows me and wraps his arms around my shoulders. His lips press to my forehead as I quietly cry into his chest. I already violently sobbed this morning.