See Yourself Through My Eyes // lh & ai

1

It's not that Ashton minds being alone. It's not that he isn't okay being the odd one out; the one who keeps to himself while everyone else befriends any person who steps in their path. He's okay being alone, he really is, but he hates being lonely. And even though he enjoys being alone at times, he doesn't want to be alone all the time. He has a fear of being lonely for the rest of his life, and he doesn't like that.

So when he's sitting in the small mobile home, he notices how much bigger it seems to be when he's the only one in it. He almost longs for someone to show up and share the space with him. When he first moved into the mobile home, he was excited that he could get away from everyone. He thought about how he'd have the whole home to himself. No waiting for the bathroom, no fighting over the two small beds in the bedroom, and no irritating noises while he tries to focus on painting. He was excited. But sitting here now, he can only mope. He can only stare around the bedroom, looking at how only one bed is fixed up while the other one is empty. He can only sit on the small sofa in the main room that seems spacier while he's the only one on it. And he almost wishes to be pressed up against the side of the couch because another person is beside him and obnoxiously taking up too much space.

A small huff of breath escapes his lips in a sigh as he makes his way out of the mobile home, sketchpad in hand. His shoes tap on the concrete as he walks, wondering if it's childish to be a bit bummed about living alone. It's one thing to spend a day alone, maybe a few days, but he's living on his own for who knows how long. 

He doesn't want to work alone all of the time. Don't get me wrong, he loves to paint in peace and quiet, but he also loves to have someone to talk to while he paints. Someone to tell him that the little black mark of paint in the middle of the green grass is okay. Someone to encourage him to keep painting even if he makes a mistake; because something is only considered ruined if you stop trying after you make the mistake. He can tell himself that, but it's different. It's different to be so alone that you have to reassure yourself that you're fine rather than to have someone be by you and tell you it's okay.

Now he knows he's acting at least a little childish, but he can't help it. He hates being lonely.

So he's walking, hands stuffed in his pocket to protect his skin from the cold air, and wondering what loneliness really is. Someone can feel lonely, even when they're not completely alone, and that absolutely terrifies Ashton. But he thinks that if someone were to be with him, he might not feel so lonely. He's been on his own for about a week now, and the days are only getting worse.

He only moved out into the mobile home because his parents wouldn't get off his back and his siblings were invading his privacy. He loves his brother and sister to death, along with his parents, but he needed to get away. He was excited when he was told he could live in the quite nice mobile home that's sitting in the driveway.  He was excited when he moved all of his stuff into there and made it his own. He was excited. But the excitement went down the drain quite quickly as he realized he hated being lonely.

It's not like he can ask a friend to keep him company, because he reallly doesn't have friends. The only people who ever bothered to talk to him was his family, and he eventually got bugged by them. But now, he's feeling too lonely.

He doesn't exactly regret moving out, he just doesn't like being lonely.

He combs his fingers through his hair as a sigh escapes his lips.  His eyes move every which way to every movement that occurs around him,  searching for something to draw. Everyone has a different escape, and for him, it's drawing.

As he walks down the sidewalk, he notices a stone path. On each side of the path, bushes are placed with flowers sprouting out through the leaves. Behind the garden-looking yard and the stone path, he sees a small cottage. The cottage is surrounded by more trees and bushes, looking like something you'd see in a fairy tale.

Ashton smiles softly when he sees the cottage, deciding it would be perfect to draw. He's never seen anything quite as cute as this.

He leans down and brushes the sidewalk off before he sits down. He drops the sketchpad in his lap, taking the pencil gently into his grasp. He sketches lightly on the paper, moving slowly to be sure he doesn't make a mistake. He draws the outline of the small cottage along with the trees and bushes.

He hears a quiet cough behind him, and he turns around to see a beautiful boy with beautiful blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. The boy is looking down at Ashton, his mouth opened slightly in what seems to be shock.

A blush makes itself comfortable on Ashton's cheeks as he looks at the blue eyed boy.

"Why are you drawing my home?" His voice comes out like an ethereal melody of guitar strings and Ashton nearly stops breathing.

"I-I didn't know," Ashton looks down at the drawing on his sketchpad and fiddles with his fingers, "I didnt know that this was your house. I-It's just..it's pretty. I'm sorry."

"No," the blonde boy says, wide eyed, "It's fine, uh, thank you."

Ashton's about to stand up and leave, when he sees, out of the corner of his eye, the blue eyed boy sit down beside him. His breath hitches in his throat as the boy's arm brushes against his before moving away to a comfortable position.

Ashton peers at him through the strands of his curly hair, wondering what in the world was going on.

The boy smiles at him, cheeks red and blue eyes glittering in the light of the sun. Ashton sends a small smile back, his cheeks still tinted pink.

"It's pretty- the drawing. Your drawing. It's nice," the boy stutters quietly, a nice shade of red roses coating his pale skin.

"O-Oh," Ashton says, glancing at his drawing once again, "Thank you. I-uh-, s-sorry. Is it weird that I'm drawing your house?"

"Well, to be honest I was a bit confused when I saw someone sitting and staring at my house, but it-it's not weird. I mean, since it's you, I'm really fine with anything you do. I-I mean, like. The picture... You just draw well. And if you want to draw my home, you're, uh, you're welcome to. Do whatever you want to, yeah?" The boy blushes and looks down at his lap, "Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble. What I meant to say was, i-it's not weird."

Ashton smiles gratefully, "Okay good. It's a beautiful home."

"I'm Luke," the boy says, smiling slightly at Ashton.

"Ashton."

The two smile at each other, blushes and smiles appearing on both of their faces.

Luke breaks the eye contact, looking down, and Ashton shifts nervously.

"It was nice meeting you, Luke, but I-I should be getting home," Ashton says softly.

Luke nods, standing up and offering a hand to Ashton. Ashton grabs his hand and is pulled to his feet, the sketchpad in his lap falling to the ground. Luke opens his mouth to speak, but Ashton beats him to it.

"T-thank you, f-for letting me draw your home, I guess. Have a nice night," he walks away, shyly looking back at Luke once more with wide hazel eyes. He disappears out of sight, the forgotten sketchpad still lying on the ground.

Luke frowns as he picks up the sketchpad, dusting the dirt off of it.

He definitely did not expect to come home to see a boy drawing his house, and he most certainly didn't expect that boy to be the one and only person that he's ever fallen in love with.