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Shall I write it in a letter, shall I try to get it down?

Oh, you fill my head with pieces of a song I can't get out.

Can I be close to you?

~Bloom, The Paper Kites

~~~

"Alright, spill."

Luke whipped his head to the side to look at where Michael was sitting beside him on the small couch, focused on a video game.

"What?"

Michael rolled his eyes and set his controller down.

"Your parents are obviously not the only thing on your mind."

Luke felt his cheeks heat up and he tried his hardest to look anywhere but Michael, because yes, his head was so high up in the clouds and all he could think about was curly hair and those big eyes and perfect pink lips and Ashton.

"It's a guy, isn't it."

"What makes you think that?"

"Your face is redder than a tomato, Luke."

Luke rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. He got up out of his seat and walked over to the front door of Michael's apartment.

"I'm going out."

"Where are you going-"

"Out. See you tonight."

Luke shut the door and trotted down the two flights of stairs and out the front of the establishment. The afternoon air was hot but damp as he made his way to the park three blocks down the street. As he neared the park, he began to question if coming here was stupid because what are the odds that Ashton would actually be there and if the previous night's events had even happened, but those insecurities disappeared when Luke spotted the honey-coloured haired boy sitting cross legged in the middle of the playing field, clad in a large white knit sweater today. Ashton seemed to have spotted him too, because he stood up from his spot and raced towards him, flinging his surprisingly muscular arms around Luke's neck. He stumbled backwards, but quickly regained his balance and returned the hug.

"Lukey!" Ashton exclaimed in to the crook of Luke's neck, "Did you come to see me?"

Luke laughed and rubbed his hands down Ashton's sides, "Of course I did, Curly."

Ashton giggled and pulled away, looking at Luke with sparkling eyes that stole the air from his lungs. They were so beautiful, almost the same color as his hair except they were infused with such an intense color of green that it took so much effort not to let himself get lost in them.

"How are you feeling today?" Ashton asked, concern now etched in his beautiful features.

Luke gave him his most convincing smile and nodded. "I'm alright, thank you."

Ashton shook his head and furrowed his brows (quite adorably).

"No you're not. Do you like tea, Luke? We can go to my house and have tea. Maybe that'll make the dark clouds go away."

Luke cocked his head to the side,"What dark clouds?"

"The dark clouds in your eyes," Ashton explained, "when people are sad, they have dark clouds in their eyes. I mean, your eyes are beautiful either way, but eyes are like windows to what's on the inside of you, and it's hard to see the real you with those clouds in the way-- that probably makes no sense, but it does in my mind."

Luke gaped at him before nodding.

"Tea sounds good, I guess."

Ashton grabbed Luke's hand, dragging him off the field and to his house.

~

Ashton lived in a small brick house. The vines and morning glory climbing the walls almost perfectly described him; he seems to be able to bring a certain individuality to things as uniform as a brick house. He led Luke to the bright blue door and unlocked it with a key he had stored in his pocket. He swung it open, revealing a small living room, and holy shit, the inside of the house described him even better than the outside. There were tons of Polaroid photos fastened to strings that were suspended from wall to wall, a few beanbag chairs littering the hardwood floor, an intricate looking lamp that hung from the ceiling that seemed to be made of scraps of plastic... it all screamed Ashton.

"Wow."

Ashton turned to look at Luke, a small grin tugging at lips.

"This is home," he laughed lightly, "Is it- do you like it?"

Luke immediately nodded, and Ashton seemed to relax a little. He grabbed Luke's hand and pulled him through the living room to his surprisingly plain-looking kitchen (apart from the colourful tiles lining the walls, of course). He gestured for Luke to sit on one of the stools behind the granite counter-top. Ashton hiked up his huge sleeves and went to fill up the kettle, but something on his arms caught Luke's eye;

"Tattoos?"

Ashton looked up and then immediately down to his arms. He chuckled and raised his arms up, twisting them around as if he were examining the drawings that wrapped around his forearms and what Luke could see of his biceps.

"No, just henna."

Luke furrowed his brows, "Henna?"

Ashton smiled as Luke reached out to touch the dark-brown illustrations.

"Yeah, they're kind of like tattoos, but they wash off after a couple weeks."

Luke let his fingers trail over the beautiful handy-work. He decided That he liked the intricately designed peacock on Ashton's left forearm the most. Luke felt him shiver as he traced the tail feather.

"What do they mean?"

"They mean lots of things," Ashton shrugged, "The peacock traditionally means beauty, but I just like peacocks."

Luke smiled and looked up at him, keeping his fingers on Ashton's soft skin.

"Where did you get them done?"

"I did them."

Luke gaped at him in disbelief. "No way."

Ashton giggled and nodded, "Yes way. Would you like one?"

Luke's eyes widened and he nodded maybe just a little too vigorously.

Ashton pulled his arms from Luke's grasp and sent him a full (drop dead gorgeous) smile.

"Alright. Well let me make the tea and we can head outside."

infatuation // lashtonWhere stories live. Discover now