christmas fic #2
I wrote 10 little fics for my followers which will be posted from now until Christmas <3 #2 - Heather/Ashton
“You’ll call me when you get to the airport, right?” Ashton said, brushing a short lock of Heather’s hair away from her face. “Course, baby,” Heather said, trying to keep sarcasm out of her voice. Ashton was so protective sometimes - not that she was really complaining. “Okay, I love you,” Ashton said. “I love you, too, daddy,” Heather said teasingly.
“Shit, babe,” Ashton said. He leant down, lips brushing against Heather’s lightly, until she got impatient, pulling him forward. There was nothing Heather liked better than kissing her boyfriend. He was so sweet and dominating at the same time, and it never failed to make her feel at home and loved.
“Ma’am, we have to go,” the driver coughed, interrupting them. “Be safe,” Ashton said, pecking Heather on the cheek. “Speak for yourself,” Heather said, before climbing into the backseat.
Ashton blew her a kiss, and she watched as he grew smaller and smaller, the further the car drove. Half an hour later, Heather fell asleep to ‘therapy’ blasting in her ears.
“Heather? Heather, can you hear me? Stay with me, Heather.”
“Honey, are you sure you’re ready for visitors?” the nurse asked Heather. She had been in the hospital for a couple days and no one had been to see her yet. Her family were apparently in a different country which had sent Heather into a panic when she found out. Through that, they found out she was most likely suffering from a type of amnesia. She had been told a few boys hadn’t left the hospital since she got there, and though she couldn’t remember them, she wanted to see them. See if they triggered any memories.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Heather smiled. The doctors had been afraid of head trauma, but determined that she was fine, besides the amnesia. “Okay, I’ll let them in,” the nurse said, ducking out of the room. A couple minutes later, there was a knock on the door, followed by a hissed ‘just go in, idiot,’ and ‘privacy, mikey, don’t be rude.’
“Uh… you can come in,” Heather spoke. The shuffling and whispered voices were silenced, and moments later, four tall boys entered the room.
They were all pretty noteworthy. All attractive, punk rock like, with striking physical characteristics, like lip rings and dyed hair. But Heather’s eyes were drawn to the boy with messy honey curls and bags under his eyes.
“Hey, Feather,” the one with blonde streaks said softly. “Hi,” Heather said, hating how cold her voice sounded - she just didn’t know these people, but by the adoration and sorrow in their eyes, and the nickname, they obviously knew her.
“So, uh, do you, you know, do you know us?” Lip ring asked shyly. It physically pained Heather to shake her head. “Oh,” someone said, she wasn’t sure who. Her eyes were still on Curly.
“I’m Michael,” the redhead said. “That’s Luke, Calum, and Ashton,” he said, pointing to the boys respectively. “Heather. Nice to meet you,” she said, shocked at the dry sob Curls - Ashton - let out at that.
“Uh, Ashy? Do you want us to give you some time alone?” Luke said softly. Heather didn’t think she was supposed to hear it. Ashton nodded, his curls bouncing around his face.
The other boys - Michael, Calum, and Luke - shot Heather a sad smile each before shuffling out of the room, hanging onto each other as if their mental state depended on it.
“Uh,” Ashton said. He was far back from her bed. keeping his distance. Hannah just wanted him to come closer. As if reading her mind, Ashton hesitantly approached, taking a seat on the plastic chair beside the bed.
“Have you guys really been here since I got here?” Heather asked, more to break the tension, than to actually find out. “Yeah,” Ashton said. His eyes looked so sad and tired that Heather wondered if he had even slept, let alone left.
“Why? Who are you to me?” It was taking everything Heather had to be civil and calm about this, to not cry and scream and beg Ashton to tell her what happened and who he was. The only thing she knew was that something about him made her feel… at home.
“I’m sorry, the doctors told us we’re not really supposed to tell you too much. Triggering, or something,” Ashton said heavily.
Between herself and a psychologist that had come in, Heather had worked out that her last memories came from 2011. School and exams, sleeping ‘til noon, hanging out with friends, going to see some undiscovered bands at dingy bars. Nothing too exciting.
“Please. I deserve to know who you are,” Heather pleaded, grabbing Ashton’s hands. He jerked back, not quite pulling his hand from hers though. They settled for their fingertips touching, the slight contact bringing Heather more joy than she had felt since he had woken up.
“I’m Ashton,” the boy said. When Heather didn’t say anything, he sighed and continued.
“I’m twenty, and so are you. I, I don’t know if you knew that. That you’re twenty. I, uh, we’re in a band. Not you. We, like, me and the other boys who were here. You’re kind of our best friend. The band’s pretty big, and we met you just before we made it big. I, um… do you really not know who I am?”
Ashton’s eyes were watering, a few stray tears leaving shiny trails down his face. Heather found herself sniffing when she shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Okay. Yeah. Okay. I have a little brother, Harry, and a little sister, Lauren. You get on really well with them. They love you. A lot, actually. I play drums, but I also sing and play guitar a little. My favourite movie is The Pursuit Of Happiness. I’m scared of the dark, my favourite food is spaghetti, and I wear bandanas a lot. I’m kind of in love with you. And you’re kind of in love with me.
Oh. That’s why he feels like home.
