Video

32.

❝just like the movies when the hero never dies, i am immortal when you look into my eyes.❞

invincible ➳ def leppard

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"Ashton?" I ask, feeling my eyes narrowing at the sound of his voice behind the door. What is he doing here?

I stand facing the door for a couple of seconds, fighting an internal battle with myself whether I should, or shouldn't open the door for him. Noticing that I still haven't said anything, and that the door isn't opening, Ashton speaks up again.

"Yeah, can I come in for a minute?"

My teeth sink into my bottom lip and I reach out my arm to turn the lock, but when I notice the bruise on my arm, plus my current lack of clothing, I pull back.

"One second. Let me get dressed," I call.

I rush into the bathroom and switch off the shower, deciding to wait with it until later. I don't know why I am agreeing to let him into my room, but I can't act level-headed when he is around.

I hastily pull the jumper I have worn earlier over my head, and throw my blonde hair behind my shoulders.

Taking a deep breath to prepare myself for whatever Ashton has to tell me, I turn the lock and pull the door open.

"Hi," I smile nervously, although I don't step back to let him inside.

"Can I come in?" He asks again, his hazel eyes darting around the corridor to see if anyone else is there to see him. I can only imagine the questions Michael would have for me, if he saw Ashton coming into my hotel room. The list would be endless.

I don't reply, but I step to the side and allow him to walk past me. The door is shut behind him, and I press my back against it as I wait for Ashton to say something. I have a habit of leaning against things when I am nervous or anticipating something; Ashton is well aware of this.

"I'm sorry about last night, and about what I said during the interview today," he apologises, his eyes glued to the floor separating us. His ash blonde hair falls into his eyes in shaggy waves, and despite the fact that I am angry with him, and never want him to touch me again, I get the urge to push back the unruly strand.

"It's fine," I admit, "I should be thanking you."

"For saying you are conceited and patronising?" He seems somewhat amused, a light chuckle falling from his pink mouth. Ashton shifts his weight from one leg to the other and crosses his arms over his chest. A pair of bright hazel eyes meet mine and I have to force myself to look away.

"No, for making it clear that I'm not dating Michael," I explain. I find myself giggling lightly before continuing, "Although the way in which you said it, was quite offending."

"But effective," he points out. "I'm pretty sure there will be videos of me on the internet tonight, saying that you're too patronising and conceited to date anyone, let alone Michael."

"Hey, at least your girlfriend won't assume there's anything going on between us," I laugh, but regret the words the second they leave my mouth. The light hearted atmosphere vanishes, and the chuckles which were once genuine, escaping from Ashton's mouth, now sound uneasy and forced. He clears his throat.

"About that," he scratches the back of his neck. He doesn't say anything immediately, allowing a second of silence to linger between us. Finally, after at least five seconds, he drops his hand to his side and continues. "I thought about what you said last night, Skylar."

"We talked about a lot of things, Ashton," I try to laugh but it comes out awkward and forced.

"I mean, telling her about us, about this," he motions to the air between us. "I know I may seem like a complete douchebag right now, but I have already lost you, and I don't want to lose her too. If I asked you... And I mean, begged you, would you, please, promise that the past will stay between us? She can't find out."