Shattered (Continuation of: The Chase) ▹ Ashton Irwin

Chapter Twenty Seven

AN: okay this is kind of important-sh so I'm just gonna get on with this quick little note :) first off, I'm sorry if this story is starting to seem a little...well, sad? I've gotten a lot of messages saying that they are on the verge of deleting this story out of their libraries because of whats been happening. I'll be honest, this whole situation between Ashton and Brooke along with Ashton and himself was never part of the original plot, but everything that is happening right now is all connected in a way that helps portay the overall theme. But yeah if that doesn't make any sense at all I just wanted to let you know that it's all supporting one point that I'm trying to prove throughout the story.

Okay yay thank you for reading :) you can follow me on twitter if you'd like: @illegallyirwin (I changed my username hooray)

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I woke up the next morning with one of the most painfully agonizing headaches that I've ever had. I've had a lot of headaches in my life... whether it was from stress, sickness, or what I had done the night before... but this was definitely one of the absolute worst. The instant I felt my self gain consciousness, I felt the abnormally painful pounding in my mind. I let out a pissed off groan before I could even open my eyes. When I did open them and try to focus my sight out, I had to shut them tight again. The light that shown through the window was almost blinding, feeling like fire against my eyes.

"Fuck." I muttered, turning over on my stomach. I breathed in, and the familiar scent of Ashton filled my nose. I recognized the soft sheets I layed on to be Ashton's bed, and I struggled but managed to sit up. I ignored the sickly and shitty feeling I felt in my head and stomach, and I propped myself on my weak arms and looked around the room. It was completely empty, along with the bed. I felt confused, confused on a lot of things. What the hell happened last night? I knew I was at that party having a good time and whatever, but why was I here? And where the fuck is Ashton?

"Ashton," I tried to call out to see if he was in another room, but my voice was too hoarse and weak to have barely any volume. I sighed and shut my eyes again, laying back down.

"Ashton." I tried calling out again, but I still sounded half dead. I groaned in hungover pain, and rolled out of bed. I stumbled to the door with only slightly open eyes. I gripped the door knob and pulled the door open, to reveal an almost empty main room of the apartment. The only part that wasn't empty was the couch, that had a passed out Ashton ontop of it. He was sound asleep, sprawled out on his stomach over the couch with his face burried into a pillow. I looked at him, wondering why he wasn't asleep next to me. Was he with me last night? Did he get wasted too? I mean probably not, but I couldn't remember much from just 12 hours ago.

I slowly walked over to him, and knelt down so our faces were level with each other. He snored lightly with his eyes shut and his arms tucked underneath him. "Ashton," I said again. There was no answer. I got up, and brought my arms around him to flip his limp body over on his back. Even with this, he still didn't wake up. His arms opened by default, and I climbed up ontop of him onto his chest. It rose and fell every couple of seconds below me, and this time his arms came around me. He hugged me against him, and I waited for him to open his eyes. But he didn't; he just pulled me as close to him as possible, blindly flipping our bodies onto our sides. Soft and quiet sleep sounds escaped his mouth, and he burried his face into the crook of my neck.

"Ash," I whispered. There was still no answer, so he did all that in his sleep. "Wake up."

"What...?" Ashton's tired voice spoke up, and he slowly lifted his head to look at me. "Oh good morning."

"Hi," I laughed, pushing the messy hair out of his eyes. "Why are you out here?"

"Me?" Ashton asked, reaching over our bodies to grab his glasses off the coffee table. He put them on and blinked acouple times, re-tucking his arm around me. I stared at him for an answer, and after a couple moments he was staring back at me being absolutely quiet.