Chapter Sixty-Six:
"What the fuck?" Harry whispered in disbelief. He stood staring at the short chestnut haired man in the same aisle as him.
"I'm fucking dreaming," Harry claimed, pinching himself. But unfortunately, it only resulted in a stinging pain shooting through his arm.
"Fuck." The tall man cursed, rubbing his arm; effectively getting the strangers attention. The chestnut haired man looked up from the shopping shelves staring at Harry.
"Harry?" The man's face was littered with scars, one particularly obvious red mark stretching from his eye, all the way down his neck. Harry stared at the man, gulping as he began to breathe heavily; taking a few paces back.
"No, no! You're you're dead. You're not here; I'm imaging this." He spoke aloud to himself.
The chestnut haired man walked forward, "I'm real Haz."
"No Ashton! I watched you! I saw you die! I watched Marcel kill you."
Harry began to slightly hyperventilate, as he ran outside and back to his car; dropping the crisps he had in his hand. Ashton, his ex-boyfriend; who Harry thought was very dead, followed him.
"Suprise?" Ashton answered sarcastically rubbing his arm. Harry noticed the scars on his arms. The taller man frowned, the scars were most likely from Marcel; the twin had tortured Ashton, cutting into his skin with an array of silver blades agonisingly slowly.
Harry stood staring at Ashton for a minute, taking in his abused form before pulling the boy in for hug. "Fuck you," Harry claimed, annoyed that Ashton had allowed him to believe he was dead all these years.
"No fuck you, Harry, it's your fault I'm screwed up mentally and physically. You and your stupid mob." Ashton countered, but he didn't pull away from the hug. He might have been mad at Harry, but he still loved his ex-boyfriend.
"Fuck your right." Harry broke off the hug, pacing back and forth with his hands covering his face before sitting down on the gravelly floor, against his car.
"I'm so sorry."
"Good."
There was a silent pause, neither boy knowing what to say or do; it was rather awkward. "Umm, so what are you doing out here?" Harry asked. "Live close by, how 'bout you?" Ashton sat glumly next to Harry.
"Visting my mum."
Ashton bit his lip, "cool."
Neither boy said anything for a while, next thing Harry heard was small footsteps and humming coming closer, looking up he saw Louis walking towards them.
"Harry?" Louis asked staring down at his boyfriend who was seated next to a stranger on the floor against their car.
"Lou!" Harry stood up, pulling Louis towards his side, Ashton stood up after him, wide, curious eyes.
"Umm Hazza? Who-who is this?" Louis suddenly became scared of the boy with many scars.
"Umm, I-I told you about Ashton right?"
"Yeah? He um passed away." Louis said quietly, not wanting to offend the stranger.
"Well, it turns out Ashton isn't dead, and he is right here. This is Ashton Irwin, um my ex." Harry pointed to the lad across from them.
Louis probably should have felt sorry for the boy. What Harry had told him was horrific, how Marcel had tortured him until he died; well until Harry thought he died.
However, Louis didn't find himself feeling sorry or even curious; he found himself feeling jealous and insecure. After all, Ashton was Harry's first love, his ex-boyfriend. Louis didn't know how to react, he wanted to make sure Ashton knew Harry was taken, yet he didn't think it was appropriate to kiss the man abruptly.
Louis settled on pursing his lips and frowning offering the chestnut haired man his hand, "Hello."
Louis retracted his hand to settle it on his non-existent baby bump; he wanted the baby safe; Ashton didn't seem to have a safe aura around him.