//int. ashton's apartment #306 - morning. 23rd april. @hannahxinterrupted
After Charlie left, Ashton found himself falling back into the deep haze after exerting way too much energy to stay focused on talking coherently with her. He had appreciated her pulling him out of the pit that morning however, now being alone again, it was too easy to slip from his grips and fall back in. The shitty feeling that he couldn't quite place why other than due to withdrawals came and went in waves, the tide had receded while Charlie was here, making it easy to justify hanging on, but now it came back in full force over his head, threatening to drag in under water. The meal Charlie brought still sat on his bedside table, honestly the smell probably made him more nauseous. And so he pulled the covers over his head, curled into a ball, riding it out as the ugly thoughts swung back in. What's the point on hanging on? Maybe a lack of air underneath the covers here can knock him out to a painless dream.
He wasn't left alone for very long, or maybe it was long, it felt long, Ashton couldn't really have a grasp on time, only pain, assuming Charlie had come back to make sure the food was eaten, "I don't want to eat, I'm fine." Those were better greeting words than kill me, right? Right. The words were pathetically muffled into blankets, not really sure of the new presence with him that morning. And if it was anyone here to hurt him, all he could think of was might as well.