storm: (noun)
1. a violent disturbance of the atmosphere with strong winds and usually rain, thunder, lightning or snow
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Things between me and Ash have been weird today, especially after our conversation yesterday. He could barely look me in the eye and I knew exactly why, because I am a complete asshole and I push away people because I'm scared of the truth. Or of the truth coming out.
I didn't want to forget that night, of course I didn't. Calling him Cherry instead of Ash felt like an automatic response, like I'm not even thinking before I speak. I also have no clue why I stepped to him like that, proving to myself that I am indeed a massive fucking asshole. Like I actually have something to prove but what did I want to show him? That he shouldn't mess with me?
He didn't seem to give a single shit and that's what I liked, I fucking liked it far too much.
He didn't back down or flinch and I almost felt relieved he wasn't intimidated by me. It felt like he could see through my whole facade and he wasn't having any of it. But he didn't probe anymore, it was me who shut the door on the potential of a friendship.
But now I'm the only one to blame because of this embedded hatred for myself, for the way I act, for the things I do when my livelihood feels threatened.
Ash has been nothing but kind since we started probation and that only makes me feel more confused. I wish he could do something so I hate him but he's kind, almost understanding and knows how to stand up for himself.
How can I witness that and tell myself to stop thinking about him in ways I shouldn't?
I know it's dangerous, it should never happen again because it can never happen again. That's why I want to forget, even if inside it's the last thing I want to do. It's better to forget even if I don't want to, even if I want to fantasise over the feel of his body against mine.
Or the way he says things when he's balls deep inside of me. Or his rough and seductive voice makes everything inside of me clench painfully, but I had to stop thinking about it, about him.
How would I ever get him off my mind if I torture myself every time I fucking see him?
At least tonight I'd be able to have a distraction. We organised a bonfire with Elijah and Reese, Ciara and Jules and their friends would be tagging along too. All I could think about is having an ice cold beer, kicking back in a chair and spending time with my friends.
A bit of time before I have to go home for curfew. It's been a while since we've had a party on the beach, now that the sun goes down later into the evening it's perfect to start early and soak up the rays.
Especially with this heatwave, it's going to be bliss.
Even an evening away from my father, away from Ash and this stupid manor. Anything to help me refresh my mind, think about something different for once and zone out. Enjoy other people's company.
When it reaches two o'clock neither of us have muttered a word to each other, Ash refuses to even glance my way. He avoids me like the plague, making sure he's not in the way of what I'm working on.
I glance once out the window, not expecting to see dark grey clouds litter the sky. Then without warning, rain falls quickly, pattering against the concrete that surrounds the manor. My feet carry me towards the window, getting a better look at the weather. Not one patch of blue in the sky.
"Fuck sake," I mumble underneath my breath.
I carry on with the dining room mess, I keep glancing at the rain hitting the glass window. It doesn't ease up after twenty minutes and then I jump at the sound of thunder, lightning brightening up the sky in vibrant strikes.
The wind picks up, whipping against the front doors of the manor, sending them shutting with a loud crash. The windows let in the whistling from the wind, trees blowing like it was the end of the world.
"Fuck my life."
Ash stops what he's doing, plucking a headphone from his ear and acknowledging the weather for the first time. He turns back to me as I stare out the window like a saddened child who can't go out to play.
"Is it going to be like this for the rest of the day?" I find myself asking.
"Yep." His voice is short.
"Really?"
Ash's eyes roam my face and he buries the headphone back into his ear. "Don't you check the weather?"
No. I wanted to snap but I refrain. He turns before I can respond and I grunt, digging my phone out from my pocket and checking the weather app. Oh great, weather warnings until two in the morning. More rain, more wind, more storms.
Fucking brilliant.
I shoot Elijah a text but he doesn't respond so I get back to shifting broken wood from one part of the room to the other.
With ten minutes to spare before the end of our placement, the weather took a turn for the worst. In the distance you could see plastic bags, bins and unidentified objects flying through the air.
Ash's phone chimes loudly and he takes a look at the screen, pulling both of his headphones out. "The officer isn't going to be over to sign us out," he calls from across the room. "Our sheets will be signed on Monday."
I hum in response and walk to the front of the manor, opening the doors back up. My overalls flap from the wind just standing in the doorway, rain pattering against the floor so loud that I could barely hear myself think. Ash approaches from behind me and we look out at the weather together.
"Jesus," he hisses under his breath. "Is that someone's trampoline?"
He points up in the sky, the debris of a trampoline flying through the air. One direction and then another.
"Holy shit," I curse. "What the hell are we meant to do?"
Ash scoffs at my tone. "Guess we have to wait until it stops," he shoots me a look. "Unless you want to be up there with that trampoline or flattened by a tree. Your choice."
He pushes himself off the floor and takes his backpack before slipping into the empty front room. Soon he comes back, now dressed in his normal clothes. A shacket over a pair of stone cargos and black vans.
I follow his lead, desperate to get out of these dusty overalls and into something comfortable. Especially if we're going to be waiting it out for a while.
When I come back into the hall, Ash's back is against the wall looking out at the storm. He had placed two large bricks either side of the doors to keep them open as he looks out at the lightning that covers the sky.
I perch onto the opposite wall, my backpack beside me. Drawing my knees up to my chest, my eyes roam Ash's face but he's not looking at me. His eyes are actively anywhere but mine.
"Perfect for a Friday night," I mumble more to myself than anyone but in hope it catches his attention.
Ash's eyes remain trained outside but after a few moments he turns his head towards me and pushes his head back against the wall. "Did you have plans or something?
"Yeah," I say instantly. "It's Friday, of course I have plans."
"Doesn't look like it anymore." Ash mutters and focuses on the storm again.
Thank you for pointing out the obvious.
"Don't you normally have plans on a Friday night?" My eyebrow raises with curiosity.
Almost everyone I know my age goes out Friday and Saturday and then dies of a hangover on Sunday.
"I'm usually busy working," he shrugs, copying my actions by drawing his knees up and resting his arms on them. "And if I'm not working I'm travelling or resting. It's an endless cycle. Only sometimes do I get weekends to myself so I can go out."
"Because you're a model," I blurt out unexpectedly.
My heart hammers in my chest. He knows that he's never told me that, I only found out because Reese showed me his instagram. Now I sound like a stalker.
Ash's green eyes turn to me, a look of shock, maybe confusion across his face. I expect him to send me a dirty glare but he doesn't instead he says, "Yeah, I am. Unfortunately." His voice low, laced with sadness.
"Unfortunately?" I repeat. "Pretty sure a lot of people would kill to be a model or get anywhere near the industry."
He shrugs, his body sagging against the wall. "Guess I've just seen how toxic it can be, how much pressure there is to be perfect, to look a certain way. It looks great from the outside but the inside, it's a complete shitshow. I get why most models leave with severe mental health issues."
I keep my lips closed, never have I heard him speak so much in a short space of time. And I know that these feelings come from a deep place inside his heart, like opening up is the only way to acknowledge these emotions.
But everyone knows that the modelling industry can be damaging. I didn't realise it affected him so much when his instagram looked perfect to me but I guess beauty is only skin deep and the big dogs who own these high end brands only care about money. They don't care about their models.
They want a beautiful picture and that's it.
I dig into my bag and fish out a bottle of spiced rum, the one I had planned on drinking tonight. Desperately still wanting a swig of the liquid I crack the bottle, taking one slow sip. The bitter yet sweet rum hits my tongue and I swallow, feeling relieved for a moment.
"Want some?" I extend my arm over to Ash.
He glances down at the bottle once and then up to my eyes. His shoulders shrug and he nods, leaning forward to retrieve the bottle. When he raises it to his lips, he quickly reads the label before planting his mouth over the rim and taking a sip.
His face scrunches up at the taste and he gives it back, recovering but not moving back to the wall. "Thanks," he wipes his mouth with the edge of his wrist.
I take the bottle from his fingers, pleased he hasn't moved away. "You don't like being a model?"
Ash contemplates this question, humming softly. "It has its perks and it has its... shitness."
"What don't you like about it?"
His eyes flick between mine, a glint of confusion behind them but he blinks it away like it never happened. "That everyone in this town thinks I'm a self obsessed, obnoxious, cocky idiot who thinks he's pretty and better than everyone else. It was fun at the start but now I feel like people look at me differently but I'm not different, I'm the same kid as I've always been."
Ash's voice becomes progressively louder as he speaks, the subject clearly touchy for him but by the sounds of it, he needs to release these thoughts before he bursts. Maybe he has no one to talk to this shit about.
But considering it's pissing it down outside, I didn't mind listening. It's not like we have anything better to do.
"Who thinks that?" I tilt my head, taking another swig.
Ash scoffs and looks away like the question was stupid. "I wish you could see the looks I get when I'm out, like I think I'm above any of them. But I don't think that, I never have. Modelling is my job, that's it. I might shoot for high end brands but I don't wear them or flaunt them. It's just a job but people can't see the difference between the two."
I find myself frowning at his words. Never have I thought of looking at a model and thinking they're up themselves. Of course they have to be confident and outgoing, they're models so they have to look good. That's what makes a picture look so great, that's what sells.
"Can you model whilst being on probation?"
He shrugs again and leans forward for the bottle between my hands, I happily give it to him and he takes a larger sip than last time. A lot larger.
"Apparently, my mothers already got me booked for a casting since my court date." His eyebrows raise and he stares down at the caramel liquid in the bottle. I couldn't help but admire his damp lips, he licks it with his tongue and I avert my gaze when he looks back up. "She doesn't know when to quit. To say she was upset about this pretty little bracelet would be an understatement."
"What landed you to clean up this manor then?"
Ash takes a deep breath and places the bottle back into my hands, clasping his arms around his bent legs. "You really wanna know?" He raises an eyebrow.
I nod and stare out at the rain once more. "Fuck knows when this is actually going to die down," I admit. "Guess we've not got much better to do than talk. My phone's almost dead."
"Mine too," he responds. "It's not that exciting if you actually think I'm some kind of professional criminal."
My lip quirks and I tilt my head. "Never thought you were," I say.
Ash holds my stare for a few moments too long, a stare that has my insides clenching tightly.
"Fine," he rasps. "But we're sharing that bottle."
My arm extends and I hand it back to him almost instantly. "Go ahead."
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Author's Note
Read up to Chapter 21 on Patreon. Link in bio!
Hello my loves!
Ahhhhh the storm has come at a perfect time and pressured them into spending time with each other.
Who is excited for them to open up?
I can't wait to share with you all!
Hope everyone is good. Love, Savanna x
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