i've had this idea for ages and only just gotten round to writing it. i hope it's good.
You sit with your legs crossed and a notebook lay on your lap. You're an author and artist and you're working on your latest novella. It's a short story about love and what love means to your character (you). Before you type any piece, you like to scribe it all the way through in a notebook which explains the countless full notebooks that live in your study.
Every so often, you peer out of the window, watching as the sun creeps through the trees, desperately searching for a metaphor hidden beneath them. You take a lot of photos so you can draw them later on and find yourself stuck.
You twirl your black pen around in your fingertips and lean on your sweater covered hand. You grab a hair bobble from the table next to you and pull your hair into a limp bun to get it out of your face. Despite your attempts, your h/c fringe jumps free from its restraints and falls into your face.
Tediously, you reread the last few paragraphs of your work repeatedly and find yourself stumped. You are currently suffering from writers block and the pressure from your publishing company is becoming too much.
"Hey," Ashton says, "How's it going?"
"Dreary. I'm lacking in inspiration." You reply with a sigh.
"Well, what's the book about?" He asks.
"Love." You comment.
He scrunches up his nose, "How can you be lacking in inspiration for a book about love? You've got me."
You smile as Ashton sits next to you on the floor. You're sat on a footrest near the window so he sits on the ground beside you.
He looks up at you with his hazel eyes and you press your lips to his forehead.
"It's hard to write about something you feel so passionately about." You say.
"I could write about you all day long." He says.
"It would be pure waffle Ashton. I mean something good." You say.
"I'll have you know I'm a lyricist! I can write about love all day long." He says stubbornly.
"But you aren't a writer." You respond, looking back out the window as the sun runs across the grassy yard, chasing the dark shadows cast by the trees away.
It's almost silent for a moment. The soft, rhythmic tapping of your pen on the book is quiet and the vocal birds outside are just audible as they sing their songs.
"Come on," Ashton says suddenly, pushing himself up from off the floor and holding his arms out for you, "We're going out."
"No Ash, I can't. I'm sorry." You say.
He rolls his eyes, "Up, now. Bring your book and drawing stuff. I'm going to help you."
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion but take his arms in yours and allow him to pull you up.
"Hurry up, you've got two minutes." He says before pressing his lips against yours powerfully.
"I love you." He says.
"I love you too." You reply.
Hurriedly, you run upstairs, grab two spare pens, grab your case of art supplies and your sketch pad.
Once you get back downstairs, the front door is open and you can hear the steady hum of Ashton's car engine outside.
Quickly, you meet him out there and smile as you place all of your things on the backseat.
You jump into the jeep and sit next to Ashton as he smiles and drives off.
"Where are we going?" You ask.
"Just a little place I came across of my run the other day." He replies with a proud smile.
You and Ashton haven't lived in your new reclusive house for long. You moved from busy LA to a hidden countryside you found near by. You liked the scenery for your writing and Ashton always hated leaving you in your other house alone after a lot of his and your fans found your address.
"Should I be worried?" You ask.
"Not at all." He says, leaning forward and turning the radio up.
His phone is connected to the cars speaker system and PILLOWTALK by Zayn starts to play.
You look at him with raised eyebrows and watch as he grins sheepishly, "I like One Direction."
"He left." You say.
"So? It's a good song." Ashton shrugs, unwinding the windows.
"Don't you dare." You warn.
Completely ignoring you, Ashton turns the music all the way up and starts screaming along to it.
"So we'll piss off the neighbours!" Ashton yells along to the song as you shake your head and grimace at the ridiculously loud song.
The beat pulsates through your body and you can scarcely hear your own laugh when you giggle at Ashton's singing.
"Yeah, reckless behaviour." He sings again and you put your hand on his thigh over the console in the centre of the car.
"You're so bizarre." You shout at him and he nods.
"Damn straight." He replies before screaming again.
Not long later, Ashton drives up a dark country road. The sunlight claws at the trees but they hold their ground, twisting their leaves together to form a barrier of darkness on the ground.
When Ashton breaks out of the tunnel of trees on the other side, the loud, blazing light bounces into the car through the windscreen and illuminates the dashboard.
Shortly after, Ashton pulls up at the top of a cliff edge that looks outward to a busy LA.
"You ran to here?" You ask as Ashton turns the music down.
"Yeah. Thought it was a good picnic spot but I guess we can trial run it for your book." He smiles.
"It's going to be really boring for you." You comment.
"Any time spent with you is fun." He says.
"Cheesy." You smile.
"You should put that into your book." He says and you grin.
"My characters have class." You sneer and Ashton giggles before nudging you.
"Jump out, we can sit outside whilst it's nice." He says.
You grab your book and your pens before following Ashton out of the vehicle. He sits on the bonnet of the jeep and you climb up to sit on the big car.
"Comfy?" Ashton asks as he takes his shirt off.
"Yes," You reply, "Lovely view from here too."
Ashton smiles and lies on his shirt as to not burn his back on the black metal of the car.
"Feeling inspired yet?" Ashton enquires.
"Talk to me. That never ending tale you could tell about me. Describe it to me as romantically as possible." You order.
Ashton tells you everything he loves. Everything he finds adorable. Everything that annoys him. Everything that makes love worth it.
You write down all his words, just including your characters and their pasts and presents. You set the scene on a cliff on the roof of an expensive jeep. The two are sitting apart, staring out over the city they love.
As the sun begins to sink into an ocean of skyscrapers and houses, the pink and purple sky that is dotted with partially visible stars starts to obscure your vision and you tell Ashton that you're sitting in the car to put the light on.
You pull out your drawing pad and draw everything you see. You see your toned, perfect boyfriend sat up on the hood of the car, the window and steering wheel somewhat in your view. The sun is to the west of Ashton, its large, spherical body of orange illuminates the ocean that lies on the horizon and creates a perfect mirror image.
High in the air, a small white glow is becoming more evident and the stars dot the sky in both a corresponding yet sporadic array of light.
The skyscrapers and houses in LA are now lit by their lights and Ashton's gaze is fixated directly on the horizon.
You don't know what he's staring at or what he's thinking about but you concentrate on drawing him. You photograph the moment for memories and for future reference in case you don't finish the picture as you quickly sketch your gorgeous boyfriend.
After a while, you put your pencil down and lay your work on the backseat again. Ashton is looking down now. His legs are situated on either side of the bumper at the front of the car and his hands are clasped, his shoulders square.
You open the door of the car quietly and only press it to. You head over to Ashton who only glances at you briefly. You climb up next to him and rest your head on his shoulder.
"Did you get what you need, beautiful?" He asks, his voice low and hushed.
"Yes baby, thankyou." You say.
He puts an arm around your back and squeezes your waist softly.
"What are you thinking about Ash?" You ask.
"You. You're so beautiful. I'm so lucky to have you." He says.
"I love you Ashton." You say, words filled with sincerity and you rest your left hand on his thigh.
He looks down and grabs your hand, "I love you too sweetheart. One day, soon, I'll put a ring on this finger and call you mine forever."
"I already am yours forever." You say.
"Well let's make it official." He says.
"Okay."
"Really?" He asks.
"Really." You reply.
"You better give me your ring size then y/n." He says.
You look up at him and see the pleased smile on his face.
Gently, you kiss his lips and feel them smash against yours, moving with yours perfectly.
This was so fucking long omg hahaha
~Abbie