fivesauce blurbs

you're enough, ash

i feel like ashton needs to be appreciated soooo much more... he gets so much s--t and ppl call him rude and stuff but actually he doesn't mean any harm...

he's human and he can get tired sometimes no matter physically or emotionally okok

tired

in which ashton's having a bad night.

"tired," is the first word you hear your boyfriend say when you step out of the elevator. "i'm just tired. all's alright." he smiles, emotionless.

if that's the answer to your question of how he's feeling lately, then he's lying straight through his teeth. you just nod silently, walking through the hotel hallway with your arms crossed, your purse strapped on your shoulder as your fingers curl on the keycard.

he's the type to bottle up his feelings, and it has never been so difficult to read him. these 2 days has been another side of him, and he's starting to get more frustrating than worrying. you've seen that he's become short-tempered and closed off, avoiding conversation at any costs.

you don't want to be frustrated with your boyfriend's sudden mood dip. you know that it's not his fault. maybe it's the jetlag after all - he did say that he was tired. a good night's sleep would bring back your ashton, right?

"ash, if you want to talk-"

"i don't," he answers, head low and pace quickening. ashton avoids your reaching fingers by digging his hands inside his pockets.

"what is up with you lately?" you ask harshly, and ashton turns his head. he unlocks your hotel room, ignoring you and putting on a dead expression. you can't help but feel a little angry at ashton and yourself for this new act of his.

-

you're lying in bed alone tonight. ashton has gone out with a mumbly farewell of "i'm going out" and now you're left awake and shifting under the covers.

just when your eyelids go shut the doorknob twists and the hallway light breaks into the room, only to be blocked by your boyfriend's shadow.

ashton sniffles and blows out a puff of air, and you stayed still. "baby," he calls, voice a little cracked and shaky. he doesn't sound like himself at all -- you think he's crying, actually. ashton shuffles around a bit before crawling into bed.

you feel the bed dip and ashton lays down beside you, and you turn over to face him. he looks sad. "i'm sorry," he says.

you keep your distance from him, because you're scared he might push away if you get close. but you feel ashton bury his head in your shirt and he clutches it tight, muffling, "i'm having a bad day,"

it's true. when you boarded that plane a few hours ago and sat beside ashton, he kept on facing the window and sniffling and hiding his face. you know why now.

"i think i played a bad show at our last gig and when i got off stage i was so upset with myself," every word gets shakier as he speaks.

"i was so bad, y/n," he cries. "and it weighs me down. and at the airport i felt so anxious and mad at myself and i couldn't bring myself to hug the fans or talk to them and honestly i just need time for myself but now they think i'm a bad person but --"

"i just wanna be good," he says. you feel his tears wet your shirt and your lips tug into a frown.

you never want ashton to feel this way; you know that no one cared if he hit the right notes or missed a beat on the drums. a fan would be amazed just to be in the same room as him, even if they're in the furthest row in the venue. it isn't about technical perfection or complete flawlessness, but rather simple human connection.

you let him cry into your shirt as you play with his hair comfortingly, and eventually you feel his little gasps settle down and his clutch loosen, steady breaths filling the silence.

"you're enough, ash." you say as you look down at him.

and you'll say it again:

you're enough, you're enough, you're enough.

-

how was that was it ok???

anyway i just wanted to get out the it's okay to not be okay thing in this hehe