#fanfc

Or maybe he'll facetime you, watch you finger yourself until you cum all over your pretty pink bedsheets. His own hand pumping his cock as he listens to your overstimulated moans, his own whimpers harmonizing with your own.

Nerd!Gojo that would beg to know what your signature perfume is, and would immediately buy it after you tell him.

Nerd!Gojo who used to ignore everyone in class before smelling someone who uses the same perfume as you. And when he decides to look up to see who the scent is coming from he'd come face to face with you.

The same girl he'd been with for months now, the same one who felt so far away was just right there. Staring back at him as if she knew this entire time.

And when he pulls you aside after class, leaning over you as he pins you against the wall that's when he'd ask.

"Did you know?" With his eyebrows furrowed and a slight pout on his lips. And when he sees you nodding he can't help but ask again.

"How long?" He'll watch your lips closely, as if they were the words to a puzzle that'll save the world. He won't say anything for a while, processing the fact that the love of his life was just behind him and he never knew.

But once the initial shock passed he'd drag you to his apartment. Laying you down onto his way too big bed as he climbs over you. Repeating over and over how much he adores you, how long he's been waiting, or maybe it'd be him begging for you to let him have you.

If he wasn't going to let you go before, he definitely wasn't going to now.

You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say? What - what are we then? Are we done? Just like that?” You can feel your voice rising and that sickening feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach. “Are we done?” You say again and this time you can’t help the tears that slip down your cheeks. 

“I just,” he pauses and wipes a tear that tracks its way down his face. “I just think it’s for the best.” 

“For the best?” You whisper and your voice is so hoarse and there is so much pain. “For the best?” You look up at him once more. “Please don’t do this. Please. Whatever it is we can get past it. I know we can.”

Miles shakes his head. “I can’t.” He says, “I can’t.” 

He goes to stand and you shook to your feet, furiously wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t go. Please. We can just go to bed and talk about this in the morning. Please.” 

He shakes his head again, “that’s not how it works.” 

“But it can be.” You plead desperately. “But it can be. Please. Let’s just go to bed.” You know it’s done, you know you have seconds before he walks out the door but you want one more night with him before it ends. You want one more night tucked up beside him, feeling his arms around you, listening to how your heartbeats fall into sync when you’ve been beside each other long enough. You want to wake up before him and trace the lines of his face and kiss him until he’s awake and laughing. You know it’s over, you know that. But You want one more night, just one before it’s over for good. Just one. 

“I can’t.” He says again. It seems that all he’s got to say to you now. Like he’s already removed himself from you while you stay stuck, entwined in someone that has no interest in you anymore. Trying to hold on to him while he’s already severed the tie. 

He stands and makes for the door of the apartment and you can’t move, can’t follow him. The grief and the rage and the heartbreak is too much and it crashes into you again and again, relentless in its attack until your knees buckle and your sobbing on the floor, screaming into the silence as the door shuts and Miles disappears. 

You vomit a few seconds later, tears burning as you tuck your knees to your chest and cry into the silence. You stare at the place Miles sat a few seconds ago, begging to someone, anyone, that hell reappear and you’ll crawl into his lap and tell him all about your nightmare. He’ll stroke your hair and kiss your forehead, telling you that he’d never do that to you, that he’d never leave you, that nothing could ever take him away from you. 

Until now. Until he wanted to leave. 

So when you open your eyes and find that his seat is still empty and the house is cold and his footsteps are gone, you take the photo frame nearest to you and hurl it across the room. The glass shatters, the frame with it and drops to the floor with a dull thud. You glare at the broken pieces, wiping away more tears. The photo is still intact and you force yourself off the floor to pick it up and meet the eyes of someone who is unquestionably in love with you. Twin smiles, a casual arm slung around your shoulders as you both grin toward the camera. You had framed this when you moved into the new apartment. It was the first thing you’d put up, before bringing the bed in or the toaster or your underwear. This photo, these smiles. This had been the most important thing in the world to you. 

“Miles.” You sob, curling up against the wall and clutching the photo to your chest. You whisper into the empty room and hope he hears you from wherever he’s gone. “Please come home.” 

But he doesn’t. The lights stay off and the hallway stays empty and you’re left with your grief and your rage, clinging to your heart and wondering if you’ll ever be okay again. 

***

It takes you an hour to force yourself up and off of the floor. You leave the photo, letting it fall to the ground and any hope of Miles coming home with it. The next step is the bedroom, you suppose. Walking into that room where the two of you had woken up next to each other not twelve hours ago. 

How could he do this. 

How could he leave you here? How could he walk out and just let you deal with this alone. He doesn’t have to do this, have to walk into your bedroom and look at the bed you shared, the wardrobe still full of his clothes, the sheets still ruffled from the morning. He doesn’t have to trace the memories across the wall, watch past versions of yourself fall in love with him in every way imaginable. He doesn’t have to crawl into that bed, ravaged with pain and sadness, and feel so completely alone like he’s in some foreign land without you. No, he ran away and left you here. in fact, he just left you, 

How could he do this.

But there’s no other choice as the clock ticks over to 2am and you know you’ll have to face it at some point. Maybe that does make you better than him, to have to face this head in and crawl into all of your memories. Or maybe it just makes you a fool. Either way, it’s so much better than walking back downstairs and back into that room, looking at the very place where he left you and trying to feel okay. 

You settle into the bed but it’s only a few seconds before you’re tearing down the hallway and vomiting into the toilet. The idea that he’s not here, the thought of going back to that room and not having someone to wrap yourself into, not having Miles to pull you closer even as he sleeps, it has you emptying your guts into the toilet once again. 

But this will be the hardest it will ever be, you tell yourself. This will be the worst night. If you can just get through this then the rest will be okay. 

The thing is though, you’re not sure if you’ll ever get better. You can’t imagine a day where you’ll feel okay not having him in your life. 

It’s these thoughts that follow you as you try and tuck yourself into bed. Your feet are cold without him beside you and you dig through a drawer to find some socks. This will be okay, you tell yourself. This has to be okay. 

Your stomach drops again, that sickening feeling when your heart cracks just a little bit more and you bite back another sob, burying your head into Miles’ pillow. His smell still lingers and if you close your eyes hard enough, you can imagine him there. Tears leak from your eyes onto his pillow and you curl your hands into the sheets as hard as you can as silent sobs rack through your body. You’re not sure you e ever been in this much pain before, not sure if you’ll ever feel the same again. He was supposed to be the one, the one you married and had children with and grew old with, sitting on a porch swing together looking out into the street. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

“It’ll be okay.” You whisper to yourself in the dark. “It will all be okay.” 

But you don’t believe that. Not even for a second. 

You roll over, flicking the lamp back on and staring out across the warmly lit room. You drag a hand across your face and glance to the side of the bed where Miles should be. You can’t bring yourself to sleep on it, to cross over that invisible boundary that you’ve painted for yourself. You reach for your phone, tears already building once again, and you bit back that familiar hot pain in your mouth as a sob escapes you and the tears begin to fall. You scroll for Ashton’s number. You know you haven’t seen him in ages, much less spoken to him or messaged him for that matter, but something in you knows he might answer, knows if he sees your name flash up on his phone just once that he’d want to speak to you. Maybe. But all you need right now is a maybe. 

Two rings and then, “Hello?” His voice throws you off balance in a way that you didn’t expect and it’s weary and heavy with sleep. 

“Hi Ash,” You reply softly. 

He’s more awake then, an almost imperceptible sense of urgency to his voice. “Hey sweetheart.” And, god, that name, the care in his voice has something within you shattering all over again. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” you quickly wipe a tear from your cheek, “yeah, I just wanted to say hi.” 

There’s a rustle on the other end of the phone as if he’s sitting up in bed. “Okay.” He says, but there’s an edge of worry that touches his voice. “Has something happened?” He knows you haven’t called him up like this in months. He knows you pulled away from him and you hate that. And you know you only call him when you need something, or when you need him and you might hate that even more. You’re not even sure how it happened really, when you lost a friend who’d been by your side for most of your adult life. But it happened whether you wanted it to or not and you had to face that, you suppose.

The tears are falling faster now, tinging your lips with salt and you’re not sure why you ever thought you could hide this from Ashton. “No, no nothing’s happened. I just,” you take a shaking breath, “I just wanted to talk to you.” 

“Okay sweetheart.” You can hear the sheets shift again and vaguely wonder what kind of night you’ve interrupted for him. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“Well, how are you?” 

He chuckles lightly. “I’m good. I’m on tour with the boys, so there’s chaos as usual.” He pauses and you know you’ll have to tell him eventually. “How are you?” 

You’re shaking your head before he’s even asked the question, tears spilling down your cheeks. “We broke up.” You whisper down the phone and you can’t even get the words out without a sob following it. “He’s gone.” 

Ashton’s quiet for a moment before he finally murmurs, “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” You say with a forced laugh. “It’s all fine. “ 

“It’s not.” And you know if Ashton was here he would’ve taken you into his arms and given you that smile that seemed to make your world stop turning for a second. “It’s okay that it’s not. I know how much you wanted it to work.” 

You nod as if he’s in front of you and cover your face with your free hand. “I really did,” you sob down the phone. “I really, really did.” 

“I know, love.” The gentle hum to his voice makes you want to crack open again and just hand him all the broken pieces. “Have you slept?” 

You shake your head, “I can’t.” You whisper, voice hoarse and broken. “I can’t.” 

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?” Not even a thought, not even a hesitation from him to be with you when you need him, to help you through this. “Just until you fall asleep?” He asks. 

You nod, balling the sleeve of your jumper into your mouth to stifle the sob that racks through your body. “Yes please.” The truth is though, you’d pay for him to still be on the phone when you wake up, to be there instead of this suffocating silence that you’re met with. But what he’s doing is already more than enough and it’ll keep you safe for tonight. That’s all you need. “Thank you.” You whisper. 

“Anytime sweetheart.” He sounds tired as you sink down under the sheets and pull them tight to your chin. “You know that.” 

“I know.” It’s barely a murmur but you know he hears you before you both drift off to sleep, Ashtons steady breaths keeping you company as you finally doze off. 

***

You wake to cracks of sunlight splintering through the blinds and for a second you don’t remember. For a second, you don’t know anything is wrong. But then you reach for Miles and find his side empty, and everything slams back into you. Your phone is silent and you know Ashton hung up only when he had to. There’s a message waiting for you on your phone telling you to call him when he’s done with his show but for now the silence is crushing and you feel utterly alone. 

It doesn’t take long for your tears to fall again, burning hot tracks into your cheeks as you reach for the bucket you put beside your bed and vomit whatever’s left in your stomach. It’s all you can do to drag yourself to the bathroom a moment later and stare yourself down in the mirror. There is a no trace of yourself in her eyes. 

You check your phone and find nothing, no message or missed calls or anything you’d prayed for in the dark and twisted night you’d found yourself in. You still have his location and you look at that quickly, just to make sure he’s safe, you tell yourself, just to check.

You put your phone down, knowing you’re in serious of danger of becoming obsessive and move to the bedroom window. The apartment overlooks a forest that backs onto a small golf course. It was the perfect selling point at the time, private and secluded like a little safe haven for the two of you. But now the weight of the loneliness crushes down in you unlike you’ve ever felt before and you stare out at the trees, trying to stop the tears from falling again. 

“What do I do now?” You whisper, breath fogging up the glass. “What am I supposed to do without you?” 

You know it’s stupid, really. You know you should be able to have your own life without him and there’s plenty you can do but you feel so stuck and so fucking powerless. You have him everything you had and it apparently still wasn’t enough. You know that should make you furious but it doesn’t, in fact you just want to apologise and beg him for another chance. 

How pathetic is that. 

There’s a knock on the door then, and your heart soars. You race down the stairs and you’re so happy, so readyand when you open the door and lock eyes with him you miss the boxes that he’s holding and the look in his eyes that tell you he’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Miles I-,” and then you see it, the reason he’s here. The only reason he’s here. 

“Hi.” He says, and the look he gives you destroys whatever is left inside of you. “If it’s okay I’ve come to get my stuff.” You glance down to the boxes in his hand as his brother pulls along the curb. “Alex is here to help, if you don’t mind.” His brother gives you a small smile from his car but doesn’t make to get out and join the two of you. Clearly they had a discussion about how Miles was going to handle this before they got here, at the same time as you were crying and clinging to his pillow. 

Miles brushes past you and steps into the house, heading toward the living room to retrieve his guitars and all the other crap he’s stored there over the years, “Miles,” you say quickly and catch his wrist. “Wait. Stop. Please.” 

“What?” He sighs, looking at you like he doesn’t have any time for you anymore. 

“Is there nothing I can do to fix this?” You plead. “Please. Just tell me what I can do. You don’t have to take everything today, just a few things that you need. Please, we can talk about this.” Maybe if he leaves some of his things here then he’d have to come back and you’d see him again. Maybe it would change his mind, leaving you like this. 

Miles shakes his head “No. There’s nothing you can do. To be honest, I’m not sure why I’ve had to put up with this shit for four years.” 

“Miles please, I didn’t know how you were feeling. You didn’t tell me. If I had known then I would’ve changed, I would’ve done something different I-”

He shakes his head and cuts you off. “Look, I’ve seen it how I’ve seen it and I just can’t move past it.” He shrugs and meets your eyes, “if you’d been better then maybe it would’ve been different.”

That. That was your heart shattering all over again. 

“Please.” You beg quietly. “Please. We can work through this. This can’t be it.” 

He pulls his arm free and your hand falls uselessly to your side as you follow him to the living room. “I’m sorry.” You meet his eyes then and realise you don’t recognise the person who’s looking back at you. He reaches down for his guitar case and frowns. “What the hell is this?” He asks as he picks up a shard of glass from the shattered picture frame. 

“It’s glass.” You reply quietly. “I’m sorry.” 

He sighs and picks his guitar case up. “I’ll have to throw this away. There’s too much of it in there.” 

And there’s not, you know there’s not and you know that he could just pick it out but suddenly you’re blurting at him and begging him to let you help him. “No! Don’t do that. I can help you pick the glass out of it. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to I just, I just got upset.” 

“Right.” He says. 

And the way he looks at you, the smug expression on his face and the way he surveys the room with a raised eyebrow makes you want to rip your hair from your scalp and scream at him. This pain, this unrelenting pain that just won’t stop punching you in the gut hovers above the two of you, replacing the love that you once shared and you don’t understand how the person standing before you is the man you were once willing to die for. 

Miles zips his guitar into the case and slings it across his shoulder. “I’m just going to get Alex to help me get some of this stuff out.” 

“Okay.” You find yourself saying, staring at the floor as he passes you and wondering when he decided he hated you quite so much. 

The door slams and you bite back that familiar hot pain in your throat as your tears threaten to fall. Not here,your mother would say, not yet. You fall apart when he’s gone. But Miles knows exactly what he’s done to you, exactly how worthless he’s made you feel and he’s practically counting on the fact that you’ll fall apart in front of him and prove him right. And you’re not entirely sure if you can stop yourself.

The door opens again and Miles walks back in, followed by Alex who gives you a sad smile and opens his arms ever so slightly to you as Miles disappears up the stairs. You’ve always liked Alex and you never imagined that you’d be saying goodbye to him in this way. You fall into his open arms and he rubs your back in a gentle circle. “Hey stranger.” He murmurs. “How’re you doing?” 

“I’m fine.” You lie through your tears. “I’m sorry.” You pull away and give him small smile “I’m going to go and help him.” 

Alex opens his mouth to protest but you’re already on the first step. By the time you make it to your bedroom, Miles has emptied the wardrobe and most of the drawers, shoving his clothes into plastic bags. You take a pile of clothes and stuff them into one of the boxes laying on the floor. The two of you work in miserable, angry silence until half of the room is emptied of Miles’ clothes and the bare section of the wardrobe makes you want to scream. 

“Is that everything you need from up here?” You ask hoarsely, fighting to keep your tears at bay. This is the last of his things and you can hear Alex’s car starting up outside. 

“Yeah that’s it.” You take two of the bags and follow him down the stairs like a lost puppy, tears spilling over despite your protests. You take a breath and when that’s not enough you take another one and balance yourself against the banister as you watch Miles walks out of the door and to his car. Your knees threaten to buckle as you look around, seeing the bare spaces where his things had once been. You’d worked so hard to make this house a home for the both of you and he’d torn it apart in a single afternoon. 

You force yourself away from the stairs and a breeze stings your burning cheeks as you step outside. Miles opens the trunk of his car and tosses the bags in, wordlessly taking the box from your hands. The trunk clicks shut with such a grim finality it threatens to make your knees buckle and Miles turns to you with tears lining his eyes. 

“Bye.” He murmurs and you can’t decide if you want to punch him or kiss him. He pulls you toward him, wrapping his arms around you and your knees do buckle then. You let him hold you in place for a second and you’re sure he pulls you in tighter as you try to step away. 

“Why did you do that?” 

“Do what?” 

“Why did you pull me back in.” You shake your head as the tears fall. “You don’t have to go.” You whisper. 

Miles gives a long sigh and rakes a hand through his hair, “stop reading into everything.” Is all he says and he pulls away completely, leaving you standing there, wind ripping across your face, tears burning your skin as he opens the door to his car. “Bye.” He says again and then his engine is starting as he driving down your street and away from you for good.

You stand paralysed for a moment, ignoring that pain that is tearing through you, ignoring the way your stomach has dropped again and how hole is burning the back of your throat. You can’t stay here, staring after a car that isn’t going to turn around and so you turn around and walk back into the house, closing the door softly behind you. 

And you regret it as soon as you do. 

The silence is deafening and it crushes into you with such force that you have trouble breathing. You slide down the door, bringing your knees to your chest as you sob again. You’re so tired, feeling like there’s no escape from this. And you’re so tired of crying, of your eyes turning puffy and your cheeks burning with shame and grief, of the onslaught of memories that make you meet Miles’s eyes in your head over and over again. There’s something inside of you that has been broken so deeply, you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to fix it. 

When you finally wipe your eyes and rise from your spot on the floor, the sun his beginning to set over the trees. You unlock your patio door and step outside, letting that cool breeze dry your tears and soothe your burning face. The sky has shattered into light pinks and orange, bleeding slowly across the horizon and you know now there’s nothing for you to do but face reinvention. But you’re not ready and you’re not sure you’ll ever be ready. There’s an avalanche of memories in your head now, spilling over one another and all you can see is the laughter and the love you shared, how he held you at night, how he gently stroked your hair, how he kissed your hands. And there’s nothing to do now but drown in them. 

You run your hands over your face before raking them through your hair and staring back up at the sky. You want to sink into the earth and fade out of existence until you can be sure to wake without the feeling of your stomach dropping, and without the gnawing feeling of grief that seems to be eating through your stomach. You lease a sigh and don’t bother to stop the tears that fall from your eyes. There’s no point, after all, no point in pretending that you’re happy and ready to face whatever chapter might be next when you’d rather have lightening smite you where you sit. 

There’s nothing worse, you decide as you walk back into the house, than the absolute silence that folds over you as you softly shut the door. You’ve never felt worse, never felt like the tears won’t stop falling as you keep reaching for your phone to find nothing. Like you’ll never be whole again when you peak into the living room and see large spots of it empty. Like you don’t belong here, not without him. 

You can’t be here. It’s too much, you can’t sleep in the bed you’d shared just hours ago. You can’t sit in the same spot of the sofa and pretend that he never sat beside you. You can’t go into the kitchen without walking barefoot across the floor and not have him reaching for you, picking you up and taking you in his arms. You can’t do any of it. You can’t be here. 

Fresh tears stain your cheeks and you scroll to find Ashtons name in your phone as you sink to the floor. It rings only once this time and then he’s there, his voice clouded with concern so clear you could almost see him frowning. 

“Hi.” You say, so small you can barely hear yourself, and then your voice is breaking all over again. 

Ashton comforts you while you sob to him, and when you apologise and cry some more, he tells you that if doesn’t matter, that you could cry as long as you want and he’d still be right there and listen to you. 

“I just…I just can’t be here, you know? In this house, in this place.” You shake your head. “I feel so stupid. I feel so fucking worthless.”

You can almost feel Ashtons rage. “Don’t. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. “

“It is.” You sob, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It is. He told me if I had just been better, if I had tried harder then he’d still be here and this wouldn’t have happened. I ruined it. I torpedoed our relationship and I-”

“Stop.” Ashton says gently, “take a breath, sweetheart, please.”

“This is all my fault.” You whisper helplessly, bringing your knees to your chest. “This is all my fault.”

“This has nothing to do with you.” He murmurs. “I promise you, what he did and what he said, it has nothing to do with you.”

You scoff and there is something like rage that simmers within you. “So what’s it about then, Ashton? Because it sounded to me that Miles doesn’t love me anymore and I pushed him away. That I forced him to leave. That I ruined this!” Ashton is quiet for a moment and it is only then you realise you’ve yelled at him, sent poisonous words to exactly the wrong person. “I’m sorry.” You mumble when the silence becomes too much and you think you’ll drown in it all over again. “I’m sorry.” 

Ashton sighs, “Don’t be, love. It’s alright.”

“I just can’t be here.” You whisper again. “This fucking place. I can’t do it.” 

“I know.” Ashton murmurs and pauses. “You could come here.” He offered quietly. 

You’re nodding before he’s even finished his question. “Yes.” You breath and finally, finally a smile breaks across your face, even as your eyes still burn. “Yes, okay.” 

He laughs and you join him, a true sound from deep within you, something like joy surfacing from the wreckage. “I’m in London. Is that okay?” 

“Ash, yes.” Because the truth is, he could’ve said he was on the moon and you still would’ve raced towards him, it still wouldn’t have mattered. You take a deep breath expecting him to change his mind and you start to flinch away from the phone as you say, “Are you sure?” 

And nothing happens expect Ashton soft laughter and reassurance, “I offered, didn’t I?” He asks and it’s so fresh and such a change that you can’t bring yourself to say anything as a set of fresh tears track down your cheeks. 

“Yes.” You say quietly, after a moment, after you manage to catch your breath. “I guess you did.” 

“I’ll see you soon then sweetheart, okay?”

“Okay.” You whisper, quickly wiping your hand across your face as you hang up the phone. A moment later, a text from Ashton appears with your flight details. The plane that will leave in three hours and carry you far, far away from this nightmare. 

You glance at the screen again and find you haven’t texted Ashton in almost a year. Hell, you haven’t spoken to Ashton in almost a year. The guilty floods through you before you can stop it, remembering the look of absolute hurt on his face when you told him you could talk to him anymore, how he still walked you home to say goodbye for the last time. And how you let him, how you watched him go with that crushed look on his face and didn’t go after him. 

“What do you mean?” And that look on his face is pure hurt, almost like you’re watching his heart crack. 

You twist your ring nervously, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t think I can talk to you anymore.” 

“What do you mean?” He repeats and when you can’t find the strength to look at him, he rests his finger under your chin and gently tilts your face upwards to meet his. It breaks your heart to find his eyes are shining 

Your own tears begin to fall and Ashton doesn’t hesitate to catch them with his finger, softly tracing your cheek as he stares at you. “Miles doesn’t want me to talk to you anymore.” You whisper. “He thinks I’m getting too close to you. He doesn’t think I’m prioritising our relationship.” 

Ashton scoffs, “prioritising the relationship?” He asks. “Is he prioritising it when he goes behind your back with the girl he works with? Does he think about you then?” 

“Please don’t get upset, Ash.” More tears now, faster, heavier and you can feel something in your soul shattering. This isn’t right, you know this isn’t right but Miles isn’t happy and if he leaves you you’ll be left with nothing, you’ll be nothing. “It’s just for right now.” 

He shakes his head in disbelief and l you don’t miss when he turns to the side to swipe furiously at his face. “It’s not. I knew he wouldn’t let this go.” 

“I don’t like this either.” You say, voice thick with tears. “I swear, I don’t want this.” 

“So why are you letting it happen?” You know he’s trying hard not to raise his voice, know you’re so used to it and you’ll flinch away if there’s even an indication that he’s angry with you. “Please, sweetheart. You-” he cuts himself off with any other shake of his head and takes a breath. “I can’t lose you, okay? You mean too much to me.” 

And he’s so close, he’s so close that it would be so easy to reach forward and kiss him, to let him take you in his arms and take you away from here, away from the rage and shame that will meet you inside, that seems to always hang between the walls of that house. But you take away step away instead and watch Ashtons face as it crumbles into pieces and you feel your last glimmer of hope steadily fade away. 

“It’s just for right now.” You whisper again. 

Ashton stares at you so hard you think you might melt into the ground. Rage and pain war across his face and absolute detestation fills his eyes. When he speaks again, when he’s watched more tears track down your face but doesn’t move to catch them, you know he’s going to leave. He’ll do that for you, he’ll walk away if he thinks you need that, if he knows it would cause you more pain to stay. But still, his voice is raw as he murmurs, “I’ll still be here. If you need me.” He meets your eyes again but he doesn’t reach out. “If you ever need me.” 

You nod and you nod and it doesn’t erase the pain and you don’t expect it to. “I know.” You voice is barely more than a whimper. “I promise. I know.” 

“Okay.” And god, he sounds so defeated, clear pain plaguing his every move. He takes a step toward you and takes your face in his hands. And for a moment you pray that Miles comes home, that he catches you and he does kick you out because you know Ashton would take you in a heartbeat, would save you in a heartbeat. But he doesn’t, and the only sound is you’re ragged breathing and Ashton as he leans forward and gives you a gentle kiss to the forehead. He opens his mouth but his words don’t come out, like he can’t bring himself to say goodbye, like it would mean too much. Instead, he gives you a smile that cracks your very being in two and finally steps away from you.

You watch as he gets into his car and wipes at his face again before he his car rumbles to live and he’s driving down the road and away from you. And away from you. 

You stand there, staring at where he’d been stood, watching the road and praying and wishing that his that his car would come back and he’d come toward you with that fury and take you and kiss you and promise you that no one would hurt you again. You stand there and stare until a car comes come toward you but it’s Miles behind the wheel and he’s already frowning as he stops his car and gets out. 

You’ve never wished for Ashton more. 

“Hi.” You whisper and you wish your voice wasn’t so hoarse, wish it wasn’t about to give you away. There’s only one thing to do, you suppose. And that’s to come clean and tell him. That will be better than him finding out, you decide. “Good day?” 

“It was okay.” He pushes past you and you scramble to follow after him. “You look upset.” It’s not a question. Miles takes a beer from the fridge and you shut the door gently behind you. You make sure it’s not locked, just in case, you tell yourself, just in case it gets too bad again. 

“Yeah, Ashton was here.” Miles whips round, rage flaring in his eyes and you fall over your words as you say “but I told him, I told him we couldn’t talk anymore. That I couldn’t see him, I mean.” 

Miles nods slowly and puts his beer on the counter. “Okay.” He says slowly, “so why are you upset?” 

“Because he’s my best friend.” You frown. “I didn’t want to do that.” Brave. This was very brave. 

“You mean you didn’t want to lose your little flirting buddy.” Miles shakes his head and chides, “do I really mean that little to you?” 

You shake your head furiously. “No, no! That’s why I did it, that’s why I told him.” 

Miles raises an eyebrow and nods. “Okay.” He walks towards you and places a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “I’m proud of you, baby.” 

You can’t bring yourself to smile. “I was wondering if you could do something for me, then.” 

“Sure baby.” 

You should just quit while you’re ahead, really. You should take the victory. “Maybe you could stop hanging out with Hannah so much.” 

And when Miles stops dead in his tracks, you know you’ve gone so dangerously wrong. “I’ve told you,” He clips, “Hannah is just a friend.” 

You nod. “I know, I know. It’s just, you text her as soon as you get up and then you go to work with her and then you text her until you go to sleep. And you go to lunch with her every day. I just thought-”

“You just thought what?” He snaps and you have to will yourself to stop shaking. “You just thought that because I finally have a female friend at work that I want to sleep with her? Really? God, I thought you’d be happy for me, that I finally have someone to hang out with. You’re always saying that I shouldn’t eat at my desk, that you don’t want me to be so lonely. If anything I’m doing this for you. I’m doing this to make you feel better, I don’t want you to be upset thinking about me all alone. God, can’t you see that?” 

You’re shaking now as his voice rises. “I know, it’s just I stopped seeing Ashton. I thought maybe you could curb it a little bit so it could just be us at home? So you’re not texting her while, you’re sat next to me?” 

Miles shakes his head and then he’s laughing and it’s so cold it chills your bones. “I can’t believe this. I ask you to stop seeing a guy who is clearly wants to fuck you, but me having a friend and a good co-worker is just too much? It’s too much for you? She is just a friend. And I can text who I want. You can’t. Not when he acts like that. Not when he makes eyes at you. I’ve seen him, you know. Don’t think you can hide it from me. Fuck, maybe I should just go if you’re so unhappy.” 

“No! No, no. I’m sorry, you’re right" you shake your head and force the tears to stay at bay. “You’re right, I’m so sorry.” 

Miles gives you a gentle smile and tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re lucky to have me, you know that? I’m just looking out for you. Who else is going to do that?” 

“I know, I know.” 

“Someone else might treat you like trash,” he strokes up and down the side of your face, like he knows where Ashton wiped your tears earlier, like he’s trying to erase him completely. “I would never treat you like that. I’m just trying to give you what you deserve. I love you. You know that don’t you?” 

“I love you too.” You whisper back. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve-”

Miles shushes you and pulls you closer. “It’s alright, baby. It’s okay. I love you, I’m just looking out for you.” 

You let out a breath. “I know. I’m so sorry.” 

Miles holds you until you tell him you’re going to shower, that you want to get the feel of this day off of you. He takes you by the hand and leads you to the bathroom where he lights a candle for you and peppers your face with kisses until you’re giggling and your heart is soaring. 

Later, you hear him on the phone to Hannah and watch over his shoulder as he messages her well into the night. And when you go to view Ashtons Instagram page in the comfort of your closet, you find an empty space, like he’s been scrubbed from existence, like, despite what he said, he doesn’t want to hear from you again. 

You can’t say you blame him. 

You stare at that empty page until the sun peaks through the blinds, and you’re left with everything you must face. 

You stare at the empty duffle bag as tears roll steadily down your cheeks and you can still feel the heat from that fight, can still feel the emptiness and defeat that plagued you when you saw Hannah’s name on his phone. Maybe you should’ve left him then, if you were smarter or stronger or better than maybe you would’ve. But you didn’t, you stayed there and you let him treat you like that, let him make you feel like you were worth absolutely nothing until it just felt normal for you. Until you couldn’t tell that you were in the one place you’d sworn to yourself you’d never end up. 

God, you don’t even recognise yourself. 

And maybe it’s that, knowing how deeply you’ve actually lost yourself, that spurs you to start stuffing clothes into the bag. You take the books from your nightstand and hurl them in, gathering up your pills and your makeup and throwing them in too. You leave everything else and you know you can deal with this mess at the airport or in London but somewhere that is not here. You don’t want this to follow you to across an ocean. You can’t let it. 

You shoulder your duffle bag and take one last scan around the room before you head down the stairs. It’s still a mess and it’s still so empty but you don’t care. You can’t bring yourself to care, you just walk out of the door and don’t turn back. 

***

The airport is crowded by the time you arrived and it takes you an hour to get through security and finally into the concourse. It hits you then, that the last time you were here you were with Miles. And after everything you told yourself, after all the promises you made when you left the house, not only will Miles follow you across the ocean, but he’ll also follow you to your seat on the plane. 

It’s like people can see the thundercloud that hovers above your head as you cross the airport alone. Or maybe you’re just imagining it because you’re just so lonely and you can’t imagine being here if it’s not with him. You lean against the wall and let out a heavy breath, cowering away from your own memories as your eyes lock onto the spot where the two of you sat, laughing and planning the trip to Rome. 

“What do you want to eat?” Miles asks, casting a glance around the airport. “I guess Burger King would be okay for your allergies, right?” 

“Perfect.” You grin at him, looking up from the webpage for tours around the Vatican City. “I’m excited to get in the mood, maybe we should dress up as nuns or something?” 

Miles glances at you, “Nuns?” He asks and you’re not quite sure whether he’s following along with the joke or he thinks you’re stupid. He toes that line very well. But you don’t mind, he’s planned this trip to Rome, he’s paid most the expenses and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. So what if he doesn’t get your jokes? 

“You’re right,” you say quickly, playing it safe, deciding that he might not think you’re stupid but you don’t want to risk an insult or fight that follows. Not here, not at the airport where all these people can see you, who will realise how generous Miles is to even look at you twice. “Here,” you grab desperately for his attention to distract him, “check out these restaurants I found.” 

“They look perfect, babe.” He smiles and rests his head on your shoulder. “I’m so excited for this trip.” 

You let out a sigh of relief and the pressure in your stomach subsides. You slouch down in the seat and Miles drapes a hand across your shoulders as your heart beats back into a steady rhythm. 

Your phone buzzes and a text from Ashton appears just in time and it rips you so violently from that memory that you have to brace a hand against the wall and steady yourself. You look down, to see he’s wishing you well and telling you he can’t wait to see you. It’s true, in part, that you can’t wait to see him either, that the trip will be a great distraction and it’s been too long since you’ve seen him. But there’s something bigger that sits in your chest flattening that feeling of excitement that’s aching to call Miles and tell him about the journey and the destination and what’s going on. And you know he doesn’t care, you know that, but somehow it still doesn’t matter to you. 

The boarding call for your gate sounds, and you decide that maybe your decision making will be better on the other side of the world. You take hold of your bag and make that long walk toward the gate, trying again and again not to feel the weight of your world crumbling to pieces, even as it weights so heavily on your shoulders. 

***

It turns out that, for you, twelve hours of travel and a broken heart does not make for good decision making whatsoever. The wheels haven’t even hit the tarmac before you’re pulling your phone out and checking for a signal. 

You hurry off the plane with everyone else and find a quiet spot before you get to the arrivals gate. Ashton already said he’d be running late because of traffic and it gives you a perfect window to call Miles. 

The phone rings too many times when you call and that hole in your heart just gets bigger and bigger when you remember how he used to pick up on the first try. 

“Hello?” His voice makes you freeze and suddenly this is the worst idea you’ve ever had. “Hello.” He says again, his voice grating with agitation. 

“Hi.” You say quietly. 

And there’s a pause you don’t expect from him. “Oh.” He says and you can feel your entire body deflate. “Hi. Are you okay?” 

“Yes.” You say quickly, “yeah I’m okay. I’m actually in London.” 

“Oh cool.” Again and again he delivers his blows so effortlessly. “How come?” 

“I’m here with a friend.” You say quickly. “But I just wanted to call you, to talk.” 

“Okay.” He says. “How is it?” 

“It’s good. It’s a little strange but it’s good.” You pause and take a breath to try and stop yourself because you know what you’re about to do won’t achieve anything and it’ll just make you feel worse. But his voice has such a tight grip on you, the image of him listening to you, eyes softening, reconsidering everything is right at the forefront of your mind. So you tip your head back to stop your voice from breaking and whisper down the phone, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

Miles laughs and it punches straight through whatever is left of you. “You’re sorry? Okay.” 

“I am, I just… I don’t know I just wanted you to know I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for making you feel the way you did and for ruining our relationship. I didn’t mean to, you have to know I didn’t mean to and I want to fix it, I really, really want to fix it. I’m sorry.” 

Miles sighs, “is this why you called me? I don’t want to do this with you again.” 

“Yes. Yes and no.” You know you sound so desperate and it kills you that you’re doing this as Ashton is getting ready to welcome you with open arms. But you can’t help it, you can’t help the apologies that keep spilling from your lips, even as you’re questioning whether you’re actually sorry and whether you actually have anything to apologise for. “Listen, I just want you to give me another chance. Please. Please just give me another chance. I just, I know I can be better. I want to be better and I’m so sorry about everything but you have to see it from my perspective a little bit, don’t you? I just— “ 

“No,” Miles cuts you off, “I don’t have to see it from your perspective. I told you how I feel and I just don’t see it changing, okay? I just can’t get past it.” 

“But we can get past anything if we love each other enough.” 

 Miles scoffs, “What, did you rehearse that line with your mum?” 

“No.” You murmur and you can feel the tears starting, “but it’s true.” 

Miles sighs again, “Why did you call me? Why are you doing this?”

“Because you broke my heart!”

“I know.” 

The words echo through you and you’re certain they shatter you from the inside out. 

“Oh.” You whisper. “Okay.” Your phone buzzes and you know it’s Ashton telling you he’s here. “I guess I better go then.” 

“Yeah,” Miles says, “I hope the trip goes well for you.” 

And then the dead silence fills your ears and you wish you’d just stayed home. 

It’s your soul, your very being, that splinters, you’re sure of it. The fabric of everything just comes apart at the seams. 

You broke my heart. 

I know. 

You duck into a bathroom before too many people can see you and cower in a stall until you can get control of your tears. You know Ashton is waiting, probably worried now but doesn’t want to invade what he might correctly guess as a meltdown. It was so easy for Miles to leave you and you just let him prove it again. You just let him break you in two again, while someone else who cares about you so much more is anxiously awaiting your arrival at the gate. 

You wipe at your face and drag your hand through your hair, trying to take some breaths, praying that you don’t look like the mess you feel. You step out of the stall and walk slowly toward the mirror. It’s been half an hour now and you know you need to go. 

You leave the bathroom, tugging your hair into a ponytail and deciding to blame jet lag for your swollen and baggy eyes. You wouldn’t be surprised if Ashton is able to see right through it though, he’s always known you just as well as you know yourself. Maybe better. 

Your heart hammers as you reach the arrival gate and you’re so nervous that the carpeted floor beneath you starts to spin with each step you take. But then you make it through the doors and down the ramp and see his smile and his eyes and everything inside you just melts away. And you’re not sure how he does it but his arms are around you before you can even get a word out and you just lean into his touch, fall into his touch and something feels right for the first time in days. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair, and places a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he pulls away. “I’ve missed you.” 

And, god, you’ve missed him too. You’ve missed how his smile, how his eyes light up when he talks, how he holds you and makes you feel safe and so at home, even though your entire world has just crumbled beneath your feet. 

“Hi Ash.” You breath. “I’ve missed you too.” He doesn’t hesitate to pull you into another hug at that and you let him. 

After a moment he pulls away and studies you at an arm’s length. “How are you?” He frowns, “are you okay?” 

“I’m alright.” You smile weakly, “my egos a little bruised, but I’m okay.” Ashton nods but doesn’t say anything else. There’s this horrible awkwardness that’s hanging above you, just out of your reach and you know why it’s there, know why he might be a little apprehensive. You want to apologise but something in you tells you it’s just too early, that you should at least see the day out before you drag him into another horrible conversation. That’s how you left things, after all, that was the last time you’d seen him. 

But god, he still looks good and he doesn’t look any different except for the red hair that he’s seemingly growing out. You’d seen one photo, on Calum’s page, and you had to admit that you loved it, even if it was too bold for you. Even if Miles saw the photo later and told you no one had ever looked so stupid.

“I like your hair.” You mumble finally, dragging Ashton from his daze. His bright smile is back and he tugs at the end of it. 

“Yeah, something I was trying.” He shrugs and takes your bag from your shoulder. “So, what’s up first? Sleeping or eating?” 

You smile and loop your arm through his. He grins down at you. “I wouldn’t complain if we had something to eat.” 

Ashton nods thoughtfully. “Actually, I think I have the best of both worlds.” 

And so you walk arm in arm from the airport, you feel something within you beginning to mend. Slowly, carefully, but it’s there, and you finally feel alive. 

***

Two hours later and you’re sitting on Ashtons hotel bed, eating the biggest plate of room service you’ve ever seen. ‘This is the best bowl of pasta I’ve ever had,’ you declare, grinning at Ashton, “Maybe it’s because it’s British.” 

Ashton laughs, “You know what it reminds me of? That time we tried to make that lasagna in your apartment.” He snorts into his plate, “we almost burnt the place down.” 

“I remember! And if memory serves that was your fault.” 

“No!” 

“Yes!” You point your fork at him dramatically, “you burnt the sauce to the bottom of the pan. I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” 

Ashton gasps and points right back at you, “That was you!” 

You shake your head and it feels so good to laugh, to feel something like joy sparking within you. “It was so you.” You say, “but it was a good day.” 

“It was a great day.” Ashton agrees. 

You’re quiet for a moment, comfortable silence hanging over you. “So, how is London?” And you know you’re putting off the inevitable conversation, you can see it in Ashton’s face but he humours you anyway. That’s what he does, that’s what he’s always done, made you feel comfortable. Made you feel safe. 

“It’s cool. Good night life, shit weather.” You both glance to the rain hammering on the window of the hotel. “But I like it and the food isn’t that bad.” 

You nod, “From what I saw it just looked like a lot of rain.” 

“Yeah, that seems to be pretty normal here. Locals don’t mind though and I actually think it’s kind of beautiful.” You nod again and that silence falls, heavier this time. “So are we going to talk about it?” Ashton says quietly. “I mean, that’s why I invited you out here.”

“What?” You laugh quietly, “for me to cry about my relationship.” 

Ashton shrugs and gives you a small smile. “Might not be the worst thing in the world for you to do.” He lays his hand gently over yours and you fight the urge to pull away, to tell him you can’t because Miles won’t like that. But then it hits you all over again that it doesn’t matter anymore, that Miles doesn’t care and likely never did, that you were just marking time for him in his twenties. That maybe, if you’re honest with yourself, you didn’t matter that much to him at all. 

“It feels like I’ve just been cracked open.” You say and your voice is so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. But Ashton nods and you take a breath to combat the chasm inside of you, the gaping hole that Miles left when he tore your heart clean out of your chest. “It’s all my fault. It is. I torpedoed our relationship. I blew it up. The best thing in my life, the person who I went to for everything. I just, I just ruined it. But maybe he’ll come back, you know?” You look at Ashton desperately, tears in your eyes. “Maybe he’ll realise what he’s lost and he’ll realise how much I loved him and he’ll come back, right? Maybe he will?” Ashton takes a breath but doesn’t say anything. Your heart sinks, you can feel it falling down and down, “You don’t think he will?” 

Ashton sighs. “Listen, sweetheart. I don’t want to say anything that’s going to hurt you. It’s the last thing I want to do, okay? Truly.” 

You wipe your eyes furiously. “But?” Ashton sighs again and lets his eyes fall closed. “What, Ash? Say it, I can handle it.” 

You both know that you can’t handle it, that you are as delicate as maybe you’ve ever been and it’s so different to anything he’s ever seen you go through. He’s never seen you like this, ready to break, already halfway there. But maybe you do need to hear it and maybe he needs to be the one to tell you, to save you from some of the pain that’s rolling around in your head. “I don’t think he’s coming back, love.” Ashton whispers gently. “I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head and more tears spill down your cheeks. “I just don’t understand. Four years. Four years where we built a life together, were I loved him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else and he promised me” you voice cracks and you take a breath, “he promised me that he was in my life to stay. That he was there for me for good and that it was us against the world. He promised me, Ash.” and the desperation in your eyes when you look at him is almost too much for him to handle. “I just don’t understand what I did. I tried my best. I did my best.” 

Ashton takes your hand and meets your eyes. “This isn’t about you, love. It isn’t.”

“Then why,” you sob and you almost fall as you lean forward, burying your head in his chest and trying desperately not to think about Miles, about how Ashton smells different, feels different, how it’s not the same. “Why did he leave me?” You mumble into him. “Was I really that bad? I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I really tried my best.” And god, you hate that desperation in your voice and you hate how you know it’s not you, how you know he’s turned you into someone you don’t recognise. Ashton knows it too, he bristles every time you say Miles’ name, stiffens when a fresh wave of tears come caused by someone who took you away from him in the first place, who left you as a shell. 

Ashton rubs circles on your back as he holds you and sighs. “I don’t know.” He says. “I don’t know, I’m not in his head. But I know if he’s making you feel like this then it’s probably for the best he’s gone now.” 

You nod silently, finding the strength to sit back up and meet his eyes. “I guess.” You mumble. “But listen. Just think for a second. Do you think he’s going to come back to me? Do you think he’ll realise what he gave up, that I really was the one? Do you think he knows? Do you think he regrets it?” 

Ashton hesitates and you know he’s getting ready to let you down again, to clue you in on the truth that you so desperately need but you just can’t face. “Listen,” he says carefully, and you hate how gentle he is, how scared he is to hurt you any further. “I know you want answers but,” he sighs and runs a hand over his face, ‘but I just don’t know, sweetheart. I just don’t know and I wish I did. I wish I could give you some answers or the truth or something to help you rest a little easier,” his eyes soften as he looks at you, “but I can’t, love, I’m sorry.”

Your heart plummets again then. It doesn’t feel like a new feeling anymore. A fresh tear slips down your cheek and you’re just so tired. 

“But” Ashton says and your perk back up, just to be crushed by that pitying look in his eyes. “I know that when you love someone, it is so special and so rare. Anyone would regret loosing that.” you look down and Ashton reaches out, gently lifting your chin with his thumb. “I promise.” He says. “I promise you.” And then he adds softly, so softly you almost don’t hear him, “I would.” 

You meet his eyes then and something flickers, something you don’t quite recognise. You smile at each other and something between you sparks, like something sputtering to life. “Wow,” you finally sniff, wiping at the tears on your cheeks, “Miles never said anything like that to me, and we were together.” 

Ashton grins. “Yeah, well maybe I’m just better than him.” 

You laugh again and move toward him, draping yourself over him for a hug. He pulls you closer and you realise just how much you missed him, just how much Miles took from you, unapologetic in his destruction. “I missed you.” You breathe into him and there’s part of you, a big part, that wants to pull back and kiss him, to feel what it’s like to be with someone who wants you. To be with Ashton, who’s wanted you from the start even if you’ve never admitted that to yourself.  

Ashton sighs deeply, something like relief, something else that you can’t place. “I missed you too.” He murmurs. “So much.” 

And there’s a second, a split second, where the heart that has been pulled apart lights up, twinges, as Ashton strokes your hair, pauses almost like its holding its breath, waiting to see what happens. 

After a moment, you pull away and stand, moving to the other bed by the window. Ashton clears his throat and you know he felt it too, that pull, that ache. But it’s too soon, it’s far too soon and too wrong and why would Ashton want you when you’re crying over Miles, someone you let destroy the relationship you had with him. God, how could he even look you in the eye after that day, after what you did. 

“You okay, love?’ Ashton asks and the air around you snaps back into motion and you come back down to earth. 

“Yeah.” You smile. “I think I’m just jet lagged you know, it’s been a long day.” 

Ashton nods. “Yeah, course.” 

And the air is thick with something you don’t quite recognise and it settles heavily over you as you crawl under the hotel sheets. You’re still not used to having the bed to yourself, not used to having open air and cold beside you and you try not to think about it as you close your eyes. You hear the faint sound of Ashton getting into his own bed and you try to pretend you’re back in the apartment and it’s Miles getting ready for bed, about to settle next to you. 

You hold that thought tightly as you begin to drift away 

***

When you wake the next morning, the room is silent and cold and it feels like the apartment the day Miles left. On your bedside table is a note Ashton left, explaining he’s gone on a breakfast run and to a quick meeting with the boys. That’s fine by you, you suppose, you can use the time to cry even more. It hasn’t made a difference, being in a different country and the bed and the emptiness had felt the same, more so, if you’re being honest. The aching in your chest had yet to subside and you can feel the cracks, see the shards of your heart that will have to be pieced back together. 

Your phone buzzes and you tear your eyes away from the wall you’ve been staring at. 

Hey.. it reads from one of your friends, I think you should see this. 

And you’re not sure anything, not even the horrific pain you’d felt before, can compare to the feeling of your entire being, your soul and you hope utterly shattering as you open the photo. The photo of Miles and Hannah kissing in a bar downtown. 

You’re shaking, trembling, as you quickly type When was this? Because it could be old, you think, it could be an old photo from ages ago and yes, the hat he’s wearing is new and yes the bar is somewhere you frequent together but it can’t be recent, can’t be from the past week because if it is then it means he left her for you. Then it means it was all for nothing, the relationship was nothing and you are nothing. 

And you’re still staring at it when Ashton walks in, still staring as the smile dies on his lips when he sees you. 

“Ash...” You start but can’t finish because a sob builds up in your throat and breaks free as you finally drop the phone to the floor, any hope that you had cracking along with it. 

Ashton reaches you just as you begin to sob, begin to feel your heart break all over again but this time, somehow, it numbs you and rips you apart all at once and you feel like you’re drowning under the weight of it, under the knowledge of why he left and what he thinks of you. Ashton gently takes the phone and scans the message before he sets it down on the bedside table. “Okay.” He says gently, “okay.” 

“I can’t breathe.” You rasp, tears falling too fast for you to catch. “I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” But he doesn’t say anything else, can’t say anything else to fix this for you, to make it hurt less. This is different now and he knows it. 

“How could he..” The question dies in your throat and you meet Ashton’s eyes and he blanches at the pain that’s taken root there. “What did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything.” He says. “I promise. This isn’t about you.” He’s repeating himself, he knows that, but there’s nothing else he can say, nothing else he can do. You watch as he tugs his hand through his hair.  “This is about him. This is about him not recognising what he’s got, not knowing how good he’s got it. Not knowing how special you are.” He pauses, like he’s stopping himself, like he’s waiting to see if he’s said something wrong. 

“But it has to be to do with me.” You whisper, “it has to be. She must have something I don’t. She must be easier than me, you know? Better.”  

“Listen, “Ashton says and he goes onto his knees before you. He cups your face, “This is not on you. This is about him.” Fury flashes across his face. “This is about him. If he can’t see you for what you are, this… this beautiful, special soul, then that is his loss.” Ashton stares at you until your tears begin to dry, “Do you understand me?” And that is rage, that is unbridled fury burning in his eyes but it softens as soon as you crack the smallest smile and cup his face in return. The two of you there, one sitting, one kneeling, holding each other like it’s the only thing that matters. 

And it doesn’t feel wrong, like you expect.

You can see when Ashton’s breath catches, when his eyes flick down to your lips and then back to your eyes, almost imperceptible. Almost. Butterflies take flight, then, hundreds of them as your heart thumps, threatening to beat right out of your chest and all you can hear is the rain pattering on the window and the quickening breaths between the two of you. 

But then Ashton moves towards you just a bit too fast, and you bolt upright, fear striking you like lightning because it’s too soon and you don’t deserve it and he’d never stay. Not if Miles didn’t. You weren’t good enough and you couldn’t let Ashton be dragged down by you. You wouldn’t let it happen. You would ruin everything just like you ruined it with Miles and then it would never again be the same. You just got Ashton back, you can’t lose him again, not like this.  But you feel something 

You sidestep Ashton and wipe quickly at your tears. When you turn back to him he’s standing up, hands behind his back and looks at you and waits. Waits, like he thinks he’s scared you away. Waits, like he is terrified you’re about to walk out of that door and not come back. But you want to go to him, you want to race across the room and let him hold you, let him kiss you, let him tell you all the ways he thinks you’re good enough. 

But you can’t. Because he won’t. And everything here will be for nothing too. 

“Okay.” You sniff, “do you know what I think?”  Ashton tries for a grin but it doesn’t quite work. Still you say “I think I want to look around London. I want an official tour guide. What do you think?” 

Ashton smiles then, but it doesn’t light up his face in the same way. “Yeah, he says, “that sounds good.” 

***

The trip around London starts with a sickening feeling hanging between the two of you, something you try to ignore as you cross Tower Bridge and wander towards Borough Market.

It ends with you changing your tickets to an earlier flight home. 

It’s too awkward, it’s too changed and you both know it. Ashton keeps his distance as you walk back to his hotel, like he’s scared to come closer to you and have you jump away from him again. And you didn’t mean to, is the thing, but you know that you’d only make things worse between the two of you. Miles left you, jumped at the girl that had been hovering around for months, cementing the fact that you are not good enough. And if you’re not good enough for Miles, you’re sure as hell not good enough for Ashton. 

You pack in silence and Ashton leans against the wall and watches until it’s time to go down to the lobby for the taxi that he’s called for you. Maybe this trip was too soon and it had just made things harder for you. Maybe this isn’t where you were supposed to be at all. And maybe now, it was time to go.

“You okay?” Ashton asks as you wait for the lift. 

“Yeah.” You reply softly. “Sorry about this. Work wanted me back, you know?”

“Yeah.” He says and you know he doesn’t believe you. But you know he won’t question you either. That’s Ashton, he’s always had your back. 

And when you take a glance at him, you wish to god that you could stay, that Ashton would have you. You wish your heart didn’t start threading itself back together whenever you were with him. You wish Miles hadn’t made you so damaged, so terrified that someone might be able to want you and mean it. You wish you have the courage to believe that Ashton could.

But you don’t. And the tatters of your heart stop weaving together as the door of the taxi closes and you leave London behind.