Summary: (Y/N) is trying to handle the trauma her abusive parents gave her. And Ashton is with her, every step of the way.
This story vibes well with the song 'Could you be home' by Heffron Drive
(Request) (Words: 1.5k) (Part 1: Home)
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"Good morning." Ashton greets me as he walks into the living room. He looks rests and cheerful, which is something no one can really say about me without lying.
"Hey. I made tea. Do you want some?" I ask him as he sits on the couch, passing him my mug.
"I'll have some of that, thank you very much." He smiles, taking the mug from me. I wrap my blanket closer to my body, leaning my head against the back of the couch.
"Nightmare again?" He asks me softly, handing me my mug.
"Same as usual. I don't get it. It has been 3 months since I left." I sigh, making him look at me with sympathy.
"Trauma takes time to heal, love. Maybe it is time you visit the therapist we talked about. She seems like an expert." He suggests. I shake my head no and bite my lip.
"I am not ready for that. I am not ready to relive it, I am not ready to tell people." I insist, feeling my face becoming red.
"Hey, hey... It is ok... When you feel ready... I didn't want to upset you." He is quick to apologize, moving closer to me to place his hand on top of my thigh.
He hugs me to his chest, soothing me as he runs his hand down my back.
"I just want to end all this. I just want to sleep, for once, I want to sleep peacefully." I mutter, letting the complaint slip from my lips.
"I know. I know, love. You deserve it." He assures me, planting a kiss on my forehead.
"I just... You don't deserve all this. You don't deserve someone who's afraid to go out in fear someone might see you together, you don't deserve someone whose parents might threaten you for being with her. You don't deserve waking up alone. You don't deserve to find me on the couch every morning. You must be thinking I don't want to be with you because of that." I break down.
"Hey, look at me. Look at me (Y/N)... You are not going to tell me what I do and don't deserve. I know damn well. You make me happy, you make me feel good. I love you. And I am here for the long-run, so baby-steps, one thing at a time. I know you are not ready, but therapy will make it better, you'll see. Reliving it will be hard, but you will finally let the weight off yourself. And the therapist isn't someone who is going to judge you, think of them as your common sense, but manifested in a person. And really, staying in is actually better than going out. We get to do whatever we want, whenever we want to. Don't let them influence the relationships in your life. It doesn't matter if it's with me or someone else in the future, don't let them take people away from your life, they are not in it anymore, don't let them take anything more from you." He cups my face in his hands, letting the words out softly. I smile at him, placing my hand on top of his.
"I don't deserve you..." I mumble.
"You deserve the world. All of it. And I am going to help you get it." He replies, pressing his forehead against mine.
"Don't you have to go to work?" I ask him and he nods.
"I can call in sick if you want me to stay. It is just a marketing meeting." He offers but I shake my head.
"No, go. I will take a warm shower, maybe one of those melatonin gummies, drink some chamomile and lavender tea, hopefully, it will help me sleep a little." I reply, making him chuckle softly.
"What should I bring for dinner?" He asks me, making me shrug.
"Maybe some orange chicken from the place I like?" I suggest and he nods his head.
"Ok, then. Orange chicken and rice noodles." He sings, pressing a kiss on the tip of my nose.
Wrapped in the fluffy towel, with my hair falling on my shoulders, dripping with water, I fumble with the card from the therapist Ash suggested. I have been staring at it for a while now, contemplating on what I should be doing right now.
My thumb is trembling as I dial the number on my phone. This feels eerily scary, but it is something that I feel I have to do for myself.
Ashton walks into the house, holding a paper bag and wearing the biggest smile on his face.
"Hey, ladybug. Did you take your nap?" He asks me, leaning down to peck on my temple.
"I actually didn't. I decided to finish a design I had started a few weeks ago. And I also decided to call the therapist we found." I reply, letting down my pen.
"Oh. How did that go?" He asks me, taking a seat on the chair by my side.
"I am going to have my first session on Friday. It will be online, because I don't feel comfortable doing face to face yet, but I think it is time to take the first baby-step." I reply, earning a coo from him.
"I love you. I am proud of you. I am so proud of you." He cheers on, wrapping his arms around me.
"Why are you proud of me?" I ask him, furrowing my eyebrows at him.
"Because taking the first step is hard, but you did it. I am proud of you." He explains, making me lean my head against his shoulder.
"It's going to be hard. And painful." I sigh and he nods.
"I am going to be with you every step of the way." He assures me.
"(Y/N)?" Ashton whispers. He is standing at the door of the little study, holding a mug in his hand. I wipe my under eyes as he walks in, leaving the mug on the desk.
"What happened?" He asks me, kneeling down to my eye level.
"You usually go for a shower after a therapy session. But you stayed in longer than it usually lasts. What happened? Are you ok?" He asks me. He has my little habits noted and memorized, which makes my stomach warm up.
"Nothing. I just... It was extra hard to relive the trauma today. It felt like I was continuously picking on a wound." I reply. He looks at me softly, bringing my hands to his lips.
"I am proud of you for doing this. It takes a lot of courage." He whispers, giving me the biggest smile he has.
"I don't know if I can do it again." I admit and he sighs, stroking his thumbs over the back of my hand.
"You are stronger than you think. Things will be better, honey. I promise you that, my love." He encourages me. He looks at me lovingly, softly, making the heartache lessen a little.
"I just can't wait for that part." I feel defeated, but Ashton seems determined on helping me make things better for myself.
"It will come soon, my love." He leans up, bringing his lips on mine.
The sun is shining bright as the soft breeze comes through the car window. Ashton's playlist is playing softly in the background as he is driving towards the beach where we are meeting with friends.
It is a calm morning, a slow, wonderful morning, with the sun hitting my face and the air smelling like saltwater.
I am happy right now, for the first time in a while bursting with happiness.
"Why do you look so gorgeous today?" He asks me, reaching for my hand and taking it in his.
"I dunno..." I shrug, smiling at him.
"Whatever it is, I hope it stays." He comments, bringing his hand to stroke my cheek.
The sand feels weird on my toes today, the tickling sensation making me giggle as I walk back to Ashton, who is lounging under the sun.
"You are going to stay dry?" I ask him, toweling myself before I sit down on the spread Ashton is laying on.
"For a little longer, yeah." He replies, patting his chest. I take the message and bring myself to lay my head on top of his pec.
"You looked like a muse splashing around. You seem, happy, free." He compliments me, resting his hand on top of my hip.
"Maybe I am. I feel, weightless like I am floating. It is nice." I explain and he chuckles.
"Yeah, it is. I think what you are trying to describe is being liberated." He replies, kissing the top of my head.
"Maybe. But also safe. It feels like I am home. You feel like my home." I smile, earning a chuckle.
"It is my biggest pride to be your home." He sings. I take a deep breath, looking at the sun in the sky. It is serene in here, I wish I can stay forever.