29| Colourful Emotions.

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29| Colourful Emotions.

Strong arms encased Annie, hugging her body close like usual. She was glad Luke had found his way downstairs, even if she was still saddened by his actions. The sun was glinting right in her eyes, which would probably make for a good photo for it not of been so early she was awoken.

Turning around in his arms, she glanced briefly at the brown curls falling from the boys head. Her eyes stuck open once again at the realisation that this boy wasn't Luke, but in fact Ashton, who seemed to be enjoying this a little too much. Annie shoved his body away, grumbling about how heavy he was.

Ashton's eyes flickered open, staring at the pretty girls face as her lip pouted out. She still seemed hurt, which tugged on Ash's heart in a way he couldn't understand. He lazily allowed a small smile to pull on his lips, rubbing the hair out of his face as his eyes stayed focused on her.

"Stop staring at me Ash," she groaned, still shoving at his hard chest. He giggled lightly, shaking his head as his eyes fell to her nose, then back up to her eyes. "Stop!"she chuckled, placing her palm directly on Ashton's face and shoving him away.

"I can't help it, you're so pretty." He laughed, leaning up on one arm and looking down at her.

If she was single, and if Ash wasn't friends with Luke, he'd feel like he should kiss her right now. It was just so surreal; laying next to her with the ocean visible through the windows opposite, the sun leaving her skin literally glowing a golden brown, her freckles being the most prominent they've ever been.

"Ash! Stop," she shook her head, covering her face with her hands as an awkward blush coated them. Ashton fell from resting on his hand, his face burying into the pillows as his smile covered his features.

He felt like a little kid, all giddy for no reason and some what feeling the same way he did when he first met Rosie. He wasn't falling for Annie though, she was his best friends girlfriend, he's not that type of person.

"What's going on here?" Calum asked, stomping into the room with some trackie shorts and a baggy shirt on. Annie was surprised he had made it up, with the amount he drank last night she would of been bed bound for days.

"Nothing," Annie punched Ashton's arm, sitting up and rubbing her face, chucking the duvet off of her and standing up, opening the front curtains and stretching widely.

Ashton smirked at her, watching as his shirt lifted up from her body as she stretched. Calum flicked him on the back of the head, scowling with furrowed brows. Ash just shrugged, shaking his head as he fell back into the pillows of the couch.

He felt stupid for thinking this way. Annie wasn't even his type. His type was: dusty brown hair, blue eyes, fair skin, small and called Rosie. Annie was: dark brown hair, brown eyes, tanned skin, tall and called, well, Annie. But their was just something about her that made Ashton's head spin in little cute circles.

He was probably just trying to get Rosie off his mind, he feels so weird not having anyone to love as much as he loved her. That's why he's seeing Annie in this weird way, he's trying to give off his spare love.

The slow thudding on steps sounded from the top of the stairs case, turning the three dozy friends to look up at the scruffy looking blind boy. He was clutching onto the banister for dear life, his feet pressing the step below three times before confidently stepping down.

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