A Trip to Lush - an Ashton Irwin imagine
“Helllloooo…how much do you love me and how willing are you to drop all your plans to come help me out for a couple hours?” the text reads from Ashton.
“I mean Sherlock and John would probably be pretty upset that I’m walking away from our marathon that we had planned but I MIGHT be able to get out of it. What’d you have in mind drummer boy?” You respond as you finish off the homemade pb&j you’d created for the first of many on the couch meals for today.
At least twenty minutes pass before he responds, convincing yourself that maybe he’d gotten distracted again and found something else to do instead; but eventually his name pops up on your screen and says that he needs help finding a gift for his sister who’ll be in town for her birthday this week.
“Yeah that sounds fine! What time were you thinking?” This time there is no hesitation and he responds with “25 minutes?”
“Yes I think that’s fine. See you in a bit.” You launch yourself off the couch and in to the bathroom to see if there is any miracle on earth that can rescue your hair but decide there’s not enough time to go to the store to refill your dry shampoo nor enough time to really shower and get ready. A hat and ponytail will just have to do for now. His arrival is markedly announced by 4 rapid honks from the horn of his car. As you fly out the door and land in the passenger seats he pulls his shades down and gives you a big smile. “Hey hey I missed you! Ready to roll?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Where are we going or what exactly are we looking for?” you ask.
As he peels away from the curb and looks over his shoulder he says “I have no idea where to start, I just figured if we go in to shops that you like then we’ll eventually find something right?” You face-palm and shake your head. “Yeah I suppose that would work. Do you want to try clothes or makeup?”
“Definitely not clothes” he adds. “I have no idea what I’d get her that she’d wear. Also what if I buy the wrong size and it’s too big and she thinks I’m calling her fat or it’s too small and then she just feels fat. YOU CAN’T WIN WITH WOMEN.”
“Take a breather there Ash, it’s going to be okay.” You add as you try to stifle your laughter. “We’ll find something. I have an idea of where to start.”
You make your way through the mall, passing stores or only going in for moments at a time. Anxiety starts to build that he’s already regretted trying to complete this mission and that you weren’t doing a good enough job but he seems more frustrated at all the options and none of them sticking out.
“How about Lush?” You suggest.
“Wow yes I wouldn’t have thought to go there if not for you. I’ve never really been in one.”
Slowly you parade him around the bath bombs and the masks, he takes giant sniffs of each one. Hopelessly trying to decide which one she might like best. As the two of you continue to walk around one of the attendant’s walks up to the both of you. “There are chairs over here for the boyfriends and husbands, for moral support, if you need them.”
“Oh we’re no-“ You begin to argue but Ashton lets out a laugh and says “I know! She’s always dragging me in to these places!” He grabs your free hand and gives a tight squeeze. In a moment of confusion you look down at your interlaced fingers and let out an awkward laugh. “Ha ha yep, that sounds like me.” You peek over at Ashton and can see the dimpled grin that has taken over the whole of his face. The lady nods her head and walks away, continuing on whatever journey that made her path cross yours.
“You can let go now Ash, she’s not looking over here anymore.” You add, a little disappointment hinting in your tone.
“No this is nice, I like this.” A small but fervent blush creeps in to your cheeks as he winks and turns you towards the giant gift selection to ask your advice. All the while still holding on just as tightly as the first moment he grasped at your hand. Still confused but still enjoying this new development you don’t try to fight him off.
At last you break contact as he goes up to the register to pay for the items he selected and you suppose that’ll be the last of the intimacy for you two. Walking beside you out of the store he shuffles the bags around in his hands, ultimately freeing up the one closest to you. “How about some pasta?” he asks, grabbing your hand once more.
“Pasta sounds good.” He gives you the dimpled grin and leads you out of the mall and towards the restaurant where you’ll spend your evening together. “You’ll have to let John and Sherlock know I’m sorry I stole you away for the day.”
“You know,” you say “I can’t say that they minded all that much.”