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Nat is only thinking about the immediate euphoria of we're going home. We can leave all of this behind.
She didn't think about cleanup and getting their stories all aligned, she just said they ll think about it when they get rescued. She compartimentalizes and tries to avoid things she doesn't want to, but at the end she can never do that and she knows Lottie is right.
While Lottie can only think about what will happen. To all of them, to their future. They have to go back to a society that rejects their new way of thinking. They can't possibly understand.
And that is embodied especially by the way Lottie's parents during post rescue just do not give a fuck and send her off to Switzerland to get her "fixed".
They lost their daughter in the way they lost their house key. A replacable part. Not necessary or unique.
Something extra to their life, but not a human being, not their daughter, someone they should love unconditionally.
They didn't try to understand what happened to her, they didn't stay close or try to help her. They went back to the same dynamics of pre crash with Lottie crashed by the expectations placed upon her. Expectations she could never satisfy. In their eyes, she will only ever be her illness.
They immediately moved on and tried to surpress everything that's happened by relegating the problem only on Lottie's schizophrenia and not all of the rest.
It's no wonder she stopped talking and disassociated. She knew it would go this way and that's why she didn't want to come back.
Also the way she went to Switzerland means she had to take another plane. How cruel can they be?
i just came across this quote from the poet edna st vincent millay that goes “oh beauty, are you not enough? why after love am i crying?” and ooh....it’s sticking with me
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Summary: Maxine “Max” Green was never the girl to pass up a challenge, and she may have just met her match in the form of sullen drummer boy, Ashton Irwin.
A/N: Slow burn relationships are utter perfection and I am too soft of a writer to have the patience to write them. But, I tried. And I had fun doing it.
Content: Bad hairstyle jokes. Cussing (as per usual). Mentions of drinking.
Word count: Who counts words? The same like 6 of you are gonna read this whether it’s 1 word or a million, so who cares? Then why are you adding this Bri? I don’t know, trying to be professional?
And away, and away we go!
~~~
“Max, these are the guys. Guys, this is Max. She’s your photographer,” Steve Lewis introduced.
The teenage boys eyed the girl up and down. Maxine “Max” Green stood a good foot shorter than the tallest boy, her black brown hair held back in a ponytail, brown eyes hidden behind black glasses. She was dressed simply, much like they were, in jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. Her fingers unwrapped from the camera she had dangling around her neck as she extended her hand to the boys. “Pleasure,” she said, shaking each of their hands in turn.
“Lil young to be a photographer aren’t you?” one of the blonde haired boys asked her, a hand going up to push his fringe out of his hazel eyes.
“Lil young to be a rock band, eh?” she shot back, hands going to her hips.
“Watch yourself,” Steve told them both. “Max, curb the attitude. Ash, she’s older than even you, and if you disrespect her, I’ll let her lay you out.”
The hazel-eyed boy deemed Ash smiled wickedly at Max. “Oh, yeah?”
“Stop flirting with her, and let’s do this!” the dark-haired boy said, putting his hand on Ash’s shoulder.
Ash let out a boyish giggle as his cheeks flushed.
~~~
“So, you guys are from Australia?” Max asked as she scrolled through the photos she uploaded to her computer.
“Yup. We even went to school together. Well, all but Ash,” one of the blonde boys who wasn’t Ash, spoke up. Max glanced over at the voice, noticing the green eyes. Mike. Mike was the blonde with green eyes. Mike also had a wild streak a mile wide. Max liked Mike.
“So, how did Ash get in the band? And is Ash short for something?”
“Is Max short for something?” Ash retorted.
“It’s short for shut the fuck up,” Max smiled sarcastically at him. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the oldest band member. One second he was happy and giggly like the rest of them and the next he was grumpy and sullen.
“Hey, don’t swear!” he scolded her.
“It’s short for Ashton, as in Ashton, stop being an asshole,” the other blonde haired boy explained. Luke, the baby in the band, Max remembered. She also liked him and his bubbly personality. She was sure the smile on his face was permanent.
“Stop swearing!” Ash said, throwing his hands in the air in a huff.
Max and the other three boys laughed. Then, “It’s short for Maxine. But I’ve always gone by Max. And ease up with the not-swearing bit. You’re a punk band.”
“You really think we’re punk?” Mike asked, his green eyes lighting up.
“I mean, you guys don’t dance ,and you actually play your instruments, so you’re not a boy band…”
Mike let out a squeal of excitement before giving her a rib-crushing hug. “She thinks we’re punk rock!”
“You’re not punk rock,” the dark-haired boy, Calum, by process of elimination, spoke up finally. “You’re hugging her.”
Max liked Calum too. He was quiet but when he did talk, he was downright funny.
“Hugs are totally punk rock,” Max and Mike said. Then, just Max, “Now ,let me go, so I can get back to work.”
“Are any of them good?” Ash asked, peering over her shoulder.
“Are we done being grumpy?”
“I’m not grumpy,” he told her, crossing his arms over his chest.
Max rolled her eyes and pulled her bag towards her. “Here,” she said, tossing a granola bar at each boy. “I’ll tell Professor Lewis to get us some real food.”
~~~
“Max!” Steve’s voice called out as Max headed for the door of the classroom.
“Yeah?” she asked, stopping and turning back to look her professor.
“I have an opportunity for you, if you’re up to the challenge.”
She absent-mindedly rolled up the sleeves of her sweater. “Always,” she said, feeling the grin spread across her face. Professor Lewis believed in her skills in a way no one ever had. He had let her take total control over the photoshoot of the punk rock band a few weeks ago, letting her and the boys decide which ones to use. And now he was ready to trust her with something bigger, she could tell.
“Alright. 5 Seconds of Summer is touring and they need a photographer. I can’t go because I have classes to teach. Would you be willing to go in my place?”
“5 Seconds of Summer?” she asked, cocking her head to the side in confusion.
“The band you helped me with a few weeks ago.”
Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, yeah! Alright, cool. Wait, did you say tour photographer?”
“I did. Keep up, Max.”
“Professor… I… I’m in school…”
“I already talked to the department. Send me every shot you take so I can put it in a portfolio and we’ll make it count for as many classes as we can. Be sure to experiment with different ideas.”
“Do I get paid?”
Steve chuckled. “Max, it’s an all expenses paid tour. This is a free ticket to travel the world with a camera. But yes, when you get home, my company will cut you a check for your work.”
“And you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“What if I mess this up?”
“Retake the shot,” he winked. “Don’t worry so much. Trust your gut. There will be a whole crew along for the ride, and I’m just a phone call away. So, can you do it?”
Max weighed through the options in her head. This was the chance of a lifetime. Her teacher believed she could do this. She was going to prove that his trust in her was well-placed. “Hell yeah!”
~~~
“Max!” Mike said, happily, doing a little run to hug the girl.
“Mikey,” she grinned, reaching up to ruffle her hands through his hair which was now bright red. “I like your hair!”
“Mum said I looked like a Skittle. I showed her!”
Max laughed, “You’re such a brat. Looks good, kid.”
“He thinks it makes him look more punk rock,” Calum said. Then, with a loud whisper, “It doesn’t!”
Max cupped her hands to her mouth and stretched up to whisper in the brown boy’s ear just as loudly, “Yes, it does!” before shooting a grin at Mike who grinned back.
“Steve sent you?” Ash’s voice said from behind her.
“Is that a problem?” she asked, turning, hands going to her hips.
“No,” the tall boy shrugged, a hand pushing his blonde fringe out of his eyes.
“You should really try a new hairstyle,” Max suggested. “The emo fringe is a little 2007.”
“I like the fringe,” the boy pouted.
“It’s not bad,” she admitted. “But, it’s gonna be a problem if you keep having to push it out of your face.”
~~~
Ashton looked over at Max. Her glasses were hanging off her shirt, her head leaning against the window of the plane. She had her earbuds in and her lips parted a little with every breath she took as she dozed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the 3-months older girl who he thought was too young to be trusted to be their tour photographer. But, he couldn’t deny the talent she had. Not that he knew much about photography, but all the pictures they used from their photoshoot a few weeks ago had been from her camera.
Still, he was hesitant towards her and he couldn’t figure out why. He wondered how much was his own nerves around the admittedly pretty girl, and how much was jealousy of how friendly she was with the other 3- especially Mike- and so cold towards him. Had he said something to upset her, and she was still feeding off of that? Was he really just a grumpy, moody teenage boy and she was a grumpy, moody teenage girl?
He shrugged the thoughts away as her head rolled from the window to his shoulder. He smiled and pulled out his phone, taking a quiet and quick selfie of him and the girl asleep on his shoulder. He bet that the girl spent so much time behind the camera that she didn’t spend a lot of time in front of it. He was going to do what he could to remedy that, and that mission started here and now.
~~~
Max sighed and paced around the room. “I can’t keep doing this back and forth with you, Owen. This is my job. I can’t just come home because you miss me.”
The 4 boys frowned as the girl continued to pace, sharing confused glances at each other. None of them had any idea who this Owen was. At a year and a half of knowing the girl, all they knew about Max was that she was good at photography and had dropped her college education to be with them full time. That and that they liked her. She, much like each other, was a constant in their ever-changing, chaotic lives. She was their much needed-stability and they were her much-craved adventure. She was their girl, and they were her boys.
“No, Owen, you’re not listening to me! I got to live my life. It would be nice if we could work out. No- I know! I know you’re fighting for us, and that’s nice. But, I’m done fighting. I’m over this. No! I’m not saying that to hurt you! Look, we lost control of this long ago. We just need to let go, okay?”
“What are you doing?” Calum asked, as Ashton pulled out his phone to record Max.
“Shh, her words. Listen!” Ashton hushed. He knew he could turn those words into a song, but he needed to be able to remember them. And in order to do that, Calum needed to shut up.
Max sighed again, her glasses sliding up her face as she rubbed at her face. “I’m not cheating on you, you insecure little bitch boy! God! See, this is why we’re breaking up! I can’t live my life if I have to constantly reassure you of our relationship! I’m claiming my independence. Goodbye.” She hung up the phone and let out a small disgruntled scream.
“You okay?” Mike asked.
“Hmm?” Max said, taking notice of the four boys. “Oh, yeah, I’m good.”
Luke frowned. “Sounds like you just broke up with your boyfriend. Didn’t even know you had one.”
She came over to mess up the blue-eyed boy’s hair. “Boyfriends are overrated,” she smiled at him.
“I think we have ice cream,” Calum said, getting up. “Mali always eats ice cream after a breakup.”
Max laughed, “Honestly guys, I’m fine.”
“Are you turning down ice cream?” Luke asked.
Mike clutched a hand to his chest in mock-shock. “How dare you!”
Max laughed and pushed the wild boy, knocking him off balance. “Better bring the whole carton, Cal. And 5 spoons,” she said, expectantly, looking at Ashton who was staring at his phone. “Ash?” Max asked, poking the boy’s shoulder.
His head glanced up. “Hmm?”
“Ice cream?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“You good?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Are you?” he challenged. The emotions in his head and heart swirled dangerously inside him like a storm. A year and a half later and he still wasn’t sure of his feelings towards the girl. He liked her. They were friends. But there still remained the level of coldness that neither of them had been able to crack through.
She narrowed her eyes at the boy, who’s fringe had been replaced by soft brown curls. Black frames covered his hazel eyes, much in the same way black frames covered her brown ones. His apparent coldness still stung as it seemed to be more in full-effect when he conversed with her, but she had come to learn that’s just how the boy was. A tough facade to hide the soft boy he was inside. He was the oldest in the band, he had to act the part. Still, she wasn’t sure why he had to be so hard around her. But, she was still clueless to just how soft the boy actually was towards her, photos of her taking up most of the space on his phone, but he refused to delete a single one.
~~~
“That looks like it hurts,” Mike winced, watching Ashton sit in the tattoo chair.
The needle buzzing had already sent Luke running from the shop. Calum and Max were leaning against the counter with Mike, watching the needle work itself into Ashton’s wrist. The hazel eyes went wide, “What?! I thought we were all doing this together! Cal!”
Calum shrugged. “Sorry, mate. You’re on your own.”
“Mike!” Ashton continued to beg, stunned amusement in his eyes as he realized there was no going back for him and that his bandmates had bailed.
“Maybe next time, sorry Ash. I’m gonna go check on Luke.” The boy with wild hair colors Max couldn’t keep track off left the shop.
“Max?” Ashton asked, a final plea to not be alone in what was supposed to be a bonding tattoo experience.
“I’m not in the band,” she said simply, holding up her camera and snapping a picture of Ashton for proof. “Just the photographer.”
“Aw, c’mon, you’re as much as part of this band as the guys are,” Ashton said, continuing his plea.
“I am?” Max asked, her brown eyes going wide. Ashton had remained his rather cold self to the girl in their now 2 year long friendship. While it was an unspoken aspect that she was the honorary 5th member, hearing Ashton admit it made her insides twist in the most pleasant of ways. Unless he was just saying it to get her to get a tattoo with him. Either way, it was quite the line.
“Course you are.”
“Oddly suspicious coming from you while you sit in a tattoo chair, begging not to be alone.”
“How is the truth suspicious?”
Max snorted. “Oh, c’mon, Ash! We all know you just tolerate me.”
Ashton ducked his head. “Have I really been that mean to you?” he asked, his voice small.
“No,” Max told him, reaching for his hand that wasn’t being tattooed on. “You haven’t been mean. You’ve been a grump the entire time I’ve known you. But, I know it’s not because you’re mean.”
“I’m a jerk, huh?”
She held her thumb and index finger together. “Just a smidge. But, I’ve been a jerk back, so I guess we’re even.”
“So friends?”
She snorted again, this time a happier sound. “We already were, dumbass.”
“Stop swearing,” he giggled.
“Alright, who’s next?” the tattoo artist said, wrapping Ashton’s tattoo. “Keep an eye on that. You bled a lot, kid.”
Ashton’s face blushed as he hurriedly pulled down his sleeves to hide the scars on his wrists. “Thanks,” he mumbled, pulling out his wallet to pay.
“My treat,” Max spoke up, her hand reaching out to stop Ashton.
“Max, it’s fine,” Ashton protested.
“Consider it your birthday present,” she said.
“My birthday’s not for another 2 months,” he continued to protest.
“Fine. Pay for mine, I’ll pay for yours.”
“You’re gonna get one?” he asked, his hazel eyes lighting up.
“We’re a band, right?” she asked. She reached down to roll up her jeans. “Can you do the same thing right here?” she asked the tattoo artist, pointing at the soft flesh on her ankle.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Ashton scrambled up from the chair and moved to stand next to Calum while Max moved to take a seat in the chair. “Here goes nothing,” she winked at the boys. “Cal, go tell the others we’re gonna be a minute.”
~~~
“Moment of truth?” Ashton asked, hands ready to peel off the bandage on his wrist.
“Moment of truth,” Max grinned, her hands on her own bandage. They had waited until the other boys had gone to sleep, keeping the bandages on longer than necessary, wanting to save this moment for when it was just the two of them.
“Cool,” they both marveled their own tattoo, the simple tally mark etched upon their skin, before their eyes moved to admire the other’s. Max’s fingers grazed around the tattoo on Ashton’s wrist, feeling the scars underneath. “What happened?” she asked, her voice barely higher than a whisper.
Ashton jerked away, his sleeves moving to cover his hands. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, his hazel eyes growing dark.
“No, it’s not,” Max said, keeping her voice soft. “Don’t push me away, Ash. I’m not judging you.”
“Everybody else does,” the boy said sadly.
She sighed. “What is it with you and these walls? Those are more than your band mates over there. Those are your brothers. Me and you? We have matching tattoos, now. C’mon. Lower your defenses.”
“Says you. You didn’t even tell us you had a boyfriend.”
Max sighed again. “Are you tired?”
“No. Why?”
“Stay up with me. Tell me your life story, and I’ll tell you mine. Let’s get real. No secrets. Everything out in the open.”
Ashton gulped. He wasn’t sure he liked this plan. There were some secrets meant to be kept. Like his growing feelings towards her he still couldn’t figure out, and the pictures he had of her on his phone. But, he met her brown-eyed gaze that was as steady as it ever was and nodded. “Alright, who starts?”
“I’ll start,” Max decided.
~~~
“Lemme tell ya how it went down,” Calum told the camera and Max had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
A small party had formed in Ashton’s home as the men grew progressively drunker and talked about their new album. Max, clung to her cup, sipping slowly. Not being a big drinker herself, she had taken the role of designated driver many a time for her boys. But, having the party at Ashton’s meant she was free to drink a little herself. Just enough to get a small buzz going. Not nearly as plastered as her friends were becoming.
“Need more?” Ashton’s voice asked her, a blue bandana still stuck to his head.
She shook her head, reaching her hands up to tug the bandana off his head. “Remember when you used to wear these all the time?” she asked.
“Why did you let me do that? You told me the fringe was a bad idea, but you let me wear this every day for a year? Monster,” he giggled. He was pacing himself with his drinks, but Max knew her friend well enough he was walking a fine line from strong buzz to straight up drunk.
“You had worse hairstyles,” she assured him, patting his chest affectionately, trying not to take too much pleasure in the way his heartbeat drummed against her fingertips.
He winced at the memory of his long shaggy hair. “Ooo, yeah, that was bad,” he admitted with a hiccuped giggle.
She smiled as she reached up to comb through his short brown hair. “Your hair’s fine now, don’t worry. And slow down with the drinks.”
“But, I’m having fun,” he winked, his hands resting on her waist.
Her hands moved again to hold his chin. “Slow down,” she said again, her voice firm.
“You’re drinking,” he pointed out, his fingers dancing across her skin.
“Ash,” she said, pulling out of his grasp, her skin on fire. “Sober up. C’mon, I think I saw KayKay in the kitchen.”
“How come you don’t date?” he asked at the mention of his girlfriend’s name. “You’ve watched all of us date. We’ve never seen you date.”
“I date,” Max assured him, tugging him towards the kitchen.
“I’ve never seen you date,” he said, following after her.
“Drink this,” she said, pressing a water bottle in his hands. “Your buzz will keep you feeling good for a while. But you need to start drinking water.”
“You take such good care of us, Max. All of us. We wouldn’t survive without you,” he said, a finger tapping her nose affectionately.
Max let out a low chuckle. “You’re my boys. You’re my band. Of course I’m gonna take care of you.”
“Okay. I’m gonna tell you something,” he said, taking a sip of water. “Damn, that’s good,” he said, taking another sip. “Okay, the thing. And, you can’t hold this against me. I’m kinda drunk right now.”
Max chuckled again, “It’s me, Ash. You can tell me anything, you know this.”
He grinned, “No, I really can’t. Because I bet if you knew I have pictures of you on my phone- not bad pictures, I’m not a perv…- but pictures. Of you. On my phone. I’m betting you’d be mad. But, that’s okay. Because I’m pretty sure I love you. But, we can’t let Max know. This,” he said, waving a finger between the two of them. “This is a secret. So, we can’t tell Max. And we definitely can’t tell Kay. Alright.”
Max had stopped breathing at his drunken confessions, unsure of what the truth really was, and scared to find out. “Okay, Ash. We won’t tell Kay or Max. This is just between you and me.”
“Promise me,” he said, his hazel eyes dark with their seriousness.
“Cross my heart,” she told him.
“Alright, good. Now, I gotta go get Cal off that stool cuz I think he broke it.”
Max watched as he staggered off, crouching under the stool, Calum was trying to twist back into place. “Twist it, mate,” Ashton’s voice said.
“I’m twisting, bro!” Calum answered back angrily.
Max chuckled to herself, leaning against the kitchen counter, her head reeling. 5 and a half years of friendship and he finally admitted he liked her. He had admitted a whole lot more too. But it didn’t matter what his confession meant, even if it was true. He had a girlfriend. And Max had ignored her feelings for Ashton for far too long to be certain of what feelings classified as friendship and which ones crossed the line in something more.
~~~
“Hey,” Max grinned at him as he stumbled down the stairs the next morning.
“Shh,” he said, one hand waving her off, the other rubbing at his head. “Lower your voice. What are you doing here?”
“I drank, so I just crashed in the spare bedroom. Figured it was okay.”
“And you’re not hungover?”
She shook her head. “I only had like 2 drinks.”
“Mmm,” he nodded. “How’s the footage. Is any of it usable?” he asked.
It was her turn to nod. “Yeah, it’s all usable for the most part. I think the drunker you guys got, the better the videos got.”
“God, that was so stupid. Why’d you let me drink so much?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I told you to slow down.”
“Are you the one who gave me water?”
“Mhm,” she said. And the one you confessed your attraction to. And the one who put your drunk ass to bed. And the one you tried to kiss when I put your drunk ass to bed, her thoughts concluded.
“Did I do anything stupid?”
“No stupider than usual, Ash,” she assured her friend.
“Good. Cuz I thought…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, and Max leaned forward slightly in her seat, eager to hear if his sober confession matched his drunken one from last night. “Nevermind,” he finished with a sigh. “I’m gonna go do some yoga. Wanna come?”
“Sure,” she said, getting up. Damn, another time, I guess, she thought, wrapping her arm around the man’s shoulders.
~~~
“You good?” Max asked her friend. Ashton had seemed down for days, his social media accounts eerily quiet despite all the tour buzz.
“Hmm? Yeah, I’m good. Why?”
“Nothing, you just seem… I dunno, quiet I guess.”
He shrugged. “I mean, I dunno. Maybe I’m a little sad. I was with Kay for like 2 years.”
Max nodded, biting into her lip. The drummer and his girlfriend had called things off right before he left for tour, reasons unknown to everyone. “Wanna talk about it?”
Ashton shook his head, “Nah, I’m good.”
“Alright then,” she said, pulling up her camera. “Say cheese.”
~~~
“Whoa, mate…” Calum said, looking through the pictures. “Does Max know about this?”
Ashton shook his head. “At least, I don’t think she does. I might have mentioned it when we did those videos for Youngblood, but I can’t remember. She never brought it up, and I’ve been too scared to ask.”
“Mate…” Calum said again, running his hands through his blue hair. “And you’re gonna give this to her as a Christmas gift?”
Ashton nodded.
“How long?” Calum asked the obvious question.
“Honestly? Probably the whole fuckin time.”
“Doesn’t she like Mike?”
“That’s what I thought. But, then… we got these right?” he said, showing Calum the tally tattoo, and then the story of the night he had stayed up all night with Max was rolling from his lips. “And I think that’s when I actually fell for her. Just… she feels like home.”
~~~
Merry Christmas, Max! Check your email for your gift! the text from Ashton read.
Merry Christmas, Ash! she texted back, even though it was still Christmas Eve back home. Her email app pinged as she switched over.
The girl who notices the world through a camera lens, never noticing the focus was always on her. the email read, with an attached file.
Max clicked on the attachment and had to scramble to catch her phone as it slipped through her fingers. 8 years of pictures filtered through her senses. Some had simple captions like “Max having her first gelato in Italy”. Some were funnier like “Girl snores like a freight train.” But it was the first and last picture that held the words that pulled forth the tears welling in her eyes. The first picture was of her head resting gently on Ashton’s shoulder, his blonde fringe forever cemented in time with the caption “I think I love this girl.” The last photo was only a week old, and- much like the first picture- featured Ashton. He was sitting down on the couch and she was standing up behind him, marveling his black hair. In a moment of softness, she had pressed a kiss to his hair, never noticing Calum taking the shot in the corner. The caption for this picture was nearly identical to the first photo’s caption: “I know I love this woman.”
Max clutched the phone to her chest tenderly. Ever since his confession, she had gone back and forth with her own feelings. She had realized what she had always known to be true, that she was in love with the man she had watched grow up in front of her camera. She was in love with his wild streak that was larger than life and left her head pounding for days. She was in love with the gentle boy who wore both his heart and scars on his sleeve. She was in love with every version of him he had ever been, and with every version he would ever be. And here was the proof that his drunken confession had been real, solidifying both of their feelings.
But, and there was the nagging thought. But, she had seen the photo of him with KayKay at the Christmas events when they got done touring. Maybe the love Ashton was saying he felt towards her was platonic. She wasn’t sure what she wanted the answer to be.
~~~
“Hey,” he smiled at her.
“Hey,” she said, returning the smile and taking a seat next to him on the couch. “Listen,” Max started, needing to speak before she lost her nerve.
“I-” Ashton started at the same time she did, also needing to get his feelings out in the open before he lost his nerve. “I lied. Before.”
“What?” Max asked, looking at him in confusion.
“The day we got the tattoos. We stayed up all night talking. I didn’t tell you everything.”
“You didn’t?”
He shook his head. “I left out the liking you part. I thought… I was scared. I still am scared. You’ve been this… constant steadiness in my life that I didn’t know I needed, and that I would be completely lost without. I can’t even begin to tell you how many songs I helped write because I needed a way to process what I felt towards you. And… I…” His hands were running wildly through his hair, searching for the words he had never been able to say to her face.
“I know,” she interrupted, grabbing his hands and pulling them down between them. “You told me this already.”
“I did?”
She nodded. “Youngblood album. You were drunk, so I wasn’t sure how much of it was true or not.”
“I thought that was a dream…”
“Nope, it was real.”
“Shit…”
“Ashton,” she said, getting him to look at her. His hazel eyes held a look she had never quite seen. She had seen those eyes dance wildly in his happiest moments, the cold hardness when he was angry, the dangerous flashing when he got intimidating, the soft sorrow of reflection. Every mood she had seen in his eyes. But this? This wasn’t sad. It was… she wanted to say scared, but in all her days she had never known the man sitting next to her to be scared. Scary, yes, but not scared himself. Ashton Irwin was many things, but scared was not one of them. Yet, here he was, scared absolutely shitless as 8 years of feelings lay between them. “I lied, too.”
“What about?” he asked, swallowing his fears, but not allowing himself to be hopeful either.
“Ashton, you’re my best friend. And I struggled for a long time trying to break down your walls without knowing why. And then, you finally let me in. And… God, it was like a switch flicked on. At the time, well, maybe always, I thought that our friendship meant more to me than the possibility of what we could be. But, then you kept being you. And then you told me how you felt. And I didn’t want to believe it, because I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be true or not. And then you sent me the pictures and I knew it was. And, I value our friendship, I really do. But, I’m also really wishing you’re gonna ask me for more than a friendship, so I can say yes.”
“You are?” His voice was a low whisper, like he was afraid that talking too loudly would shatter whatever this moment was.
Max nodded. “I just have one question. Kaykay?”
“Just friends,” he answered.
“So, are we,” she countered.
“You and I were never just friends,” Ashton said, and then his lips were on hers. “You are my best friend. And so much more.”
