Last Love // A Lashton story.
《《 11:00 am Saturday night
November 12th 2016 》》
Ashton walked into the bar, his suit jacket hung over his shoulder, the cuffs of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. His sandy blonde curls were disheveled, sticking in every direction possible as he continuously carded his fingers through them. The man walked up to the bar, taking a seat on one of the empty stool, planting his feet on the small rest that held the legs of the chair together.
"What can I get you?" the bartender looked tired, dyed green hair sticking up in random directions, almost mirroring Ashton's exactly.
"Bourbon on the rocks" Ashton said tiredly resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Seconds later a glass filled to the top with ice and a brown liquid was placed in front of him, he tossed a bill to the bartender, muttering a quick 'thank you'. The low music in the bar sounded ear piercing to Ashton, although he couldn't complain too much to the sound of the mediocre band on stage playing Good Charlotte, they weren't terrible, but they weren't good either.
The man sipped at his drink, taking in the different people sitting around him, a few scattered in the booths lining the walls, few in the middle of the bar watching the young boys play on stage, the rest sitting around the bar and silently drinking. It was probably close to midnight, Ashton knew he should probably getting home to the red head he called a fiancé. He shouldn't lie to himself and say that he loves her like he tells everyone else, he was dreading going back home to the faux red head. Maybe he should have listened to Calum when he said the girl was nothing but a gold digger, because Calum, in some way, always ends up being right.
Carla asked for one hundred dollars every morning, not being shy about it at all anymore. It's draining to fake being in love with someone who is intolerable, but if Ashton wasn't with the red head, he would be alone, and he doesn't handle loneliness very well.
As thoughts swarmed Ashtons head, his eyes locked on a small blonde just across the bar from him. A smile subconsciously made its way to his face as he instantly recognized the beautiful blonde.
Luke Hemmings,
the name made a pleasant shiver run up Ashton's spine. Ashton stared at the sultry human, biting his lip as the blonde took a small shot glass and spilled the liquid into his mouth in one go. Ashton poured the rest of his drink down his throat, his face scrunching as he was used to sipping drinks like Bourbon. The curly headed man jumped off his stool, walking towards the blonde until he was in front of the sinfully beautiful man. Ashton couldn't comprehend words as he stared at the blonde man, his beautiful white dress silky and smooth, meant to fall down to his feet yet it was hiked up and resting on his lap. White, pale thighs on show for anyone to see, a lacey white garter being revealed in the most sinfully alluring way.
"Shouldn't you be in Paris, or somewhere extravagant?" Ashton asked the blonde as he took a seat beside the blonde on the empty stool there. Luke jumped in his seat, his emotionless eyes landing on Ashton. Luke placed his shot glass on the bar where the other seven sat, his hand falling limp beside the glasses. He shrugged, inhaling a deep breath before tiredly letting go.
"You didn't see what happened?" the blonde asked as he turned to look at his friend. Ashton inhaled sharply as Luke's intoxicating blue eyes locked with his own hazel eyes.
