Ashton's POV

Tomorrow cannot come any faster. I just want to see her, hear her voice, something. It's only been a day and a half, but it feels like it's been an eternity since I've seen Emmie. I've been worried about how she is and how it went during her time of 'thinking' back in her hometown. There were so many instances when I wanted to send her a text or call her yesterday, but I chickened out each time. Instead, I ended up calling Julia and had her tell me when she arrived from Glendale. It eases my nerves just knowing that she is back in the same city as me again.

Yesterday, staying in communications was a form of torture in itself. I have become so accustomed to having Emmie sit next to me and it feels like a part of me is missing. I think Professor Ross even noticed how much of an arduous effort it was to keep my knee from bouncing up and down and stop shifting around in my seat during his lecture. It had to be the longest ninety minutes of my life sitting in there alone. I mean, before I met Emmie, I sat alone in the front of the room and was completely okay with it. Now, I realize how dependent I have become on her. I should probably work on that.

All morning I have been pacing around the house, trying to get my mind off leaving and driving over to see Emmie. I want to give her the space that she needs, but at the same time I just want to hold her in my arms and never let her go. God, I feel like I'm in high school all over again. A friend turning into a crush, a crush turning into a relationship, a relationship turning into a marriage—well, failed engagement. I stop pacing for a second and chuckle to myself. At least I can laugh about it now.

Today, I literally have nothing to do but wait around. I refuse to go to any of my other classes to avoid a repeat with Linda and any other horny girl who is begging to get laid. There are other things that I should do, like go see my advisor to switch majors before registration for the spring semester starts, but I just don't feel like it. What I want to do is go over to the General Studies building and wait for Emmie and Michael to get out of class like I normally do, but I am restraining myself from going. Well, that, and before Michael left for class, he threatened to kick me in the balls if I showed up. So now, instead of experiencing the pain that has been argued to be equivalent to childbirth, I decide to finally clean up my room; might as well do something productive.

I climb up the stairs from the living room and open the door to my bedroom. The product of my past depression and anger still covers every inch of the floor. Not even the carpet can be seen under the overlapping pages of melancholic art. Each colorless painting that I pick up from the floor is nothing more than brush strokes to me now. What used to be the center of my life is nothing more than just a memory. She should have always been just a memory.

I'll always love Natalie even if I don't want to. First loves don't just die and leave you forever. They will always be a part of you no matter what. But when another person stumbles along (literally) and pulls you in deep, you experience a different love.

A love that is beyond comparison to your first. A love that without a doubt, triumphs what you once believed love was. A love that changes you for the better. A love that is so perfect that it seems unreal.

For me, that love is Emilia.

I take the fifty plus pages of sketchbook paper that is now cleared from my floor and throw them in the waste basket where they belong. I move over to my bed and kneel down to the ground and reach underneath the bed frame where the worst of my gloomy days hide. My hand comes in contact with a glass bottle and as I try to pull it out, it clanks against another empty bottle. One after one as I pull each bottle out, my conscious tells me how much I screwed up by consuming so much alcohol.

A total of nine bottles, all averaging out to be one liter of fluid ounces each are removed from under my bed. I stare at the bottles in shame. Actually seeing all that I drank is a real eye-opener. It sickens me that I even went this far because of a single paper. I grab as many bottles as I can hold in my arms and take them downstairs to dispose of them in the recycling bin. It takes three trips up and down the stairs to remove all the bottles from my room. I try not to think anymore of my mistake and continue on with cleaning.

All that is left is the canvas sitting on the easel. I don't bother removing the sheet that still covers the unfinished painting. I haven't touched it even since Calum came in and examined it when I was trying to drink my problems away. It's not because I don't want to finish it, I just don't know how. When I first started to paint it, it was the only thing that didn't have any connection to Natalie. I had a short period of sanity that allowed my mind to create an image that captured a cherished memory of mine.

I grab the canvas, still covered by the sheet and wrap the black cloth around the entirety of the board, tying the opposite corners together into a knot. Opening the closet door, I place the wrapped art in the back of the closet behind all my clothes.

One day I'll finish it.

Satisfied with the cleanliness of my room, I go lie down on my bed. I pull out my phone and look through my camera roll that contains a single photo of the only person that I want to see. I stare at the picture that I secretly took of Emmie while she was working several weeks ago. Her dark hair is down, framing her small face which accentuates her natural beauty. Her long eyelashes make her silver-like eyes stand out more than usual. The curvature of her lips form a small smile and as I look closer at the image, all I want to do is feel them against mine again.

I don't know if I can wait until tomorrow to see her.

__

My ears perk up as I hear the sound of the front door slamming shut. I turn my head and look over from the couch and see Michael and Calum walking over to the living room with me.

"Have you been sitting around all day doing nothing?" Michael asks as he plops down on the opposite end of the couch, exhausted from his day at school.

Technically not all day, but yes. "No," I say. "I cleaned my room."

"It's about time," Calum says. "I was close to cleaning it myself." He pulls out a large textbook from his backpack and sits on the loveseat, opening up to the middle of the book and scanning the page. He may be a party animal, but he takes his studies seriously.

I turn my head over to Michael who is busy scrolling through his phone. I don't want to bother Julia anymore than I already have, so I ask him instead. "How is she?"

He glances at me before returning back to the bright screen. "She's fine," he says. "She looked really happy in class today."

That's a good sign. "Did she say anything?"

"If you mean about you, no. Although she was constantly checking her phone and wasn't really paying attention in class which was unusual. Every time I peeked over to see what she was looking at on her phone, she was checking to see if she received any text messages."

I nod and think back to each moment that I tried to text her. Was she waiting for me to say something to her? Why didn't she send me anything if she wanted to talk? She has never liked being the one to start a conversation, so I guess that's why she didn't try to text me, but I wish she did.

Calum closes his textbook, creating a loud echo in the room, and places it next to him. "I don't think you have anything to worry about," he says. "She was obviously waiting for a text from you. She has less than ten contacts in her phone—half of them being us. She doesn't text anyone except for you and Julia, and I highly doubt that she was waiting for her." He begins to scratch at the frayed ends from the hole in his jeans on his knee. "You're an idiot, you know that? From what Luke told me and Michael, she's in the same boat as you. You're both worried that your friendship will be ruined, but we all know that that will never happen."

Michael shifts in his seat and crosses his leg over his knee. "You're twenty-three years old and you haven't realized that Emmie likes you," he says. "I'd call you stupid, but that's an understatement."

I should feel insulted, but serendipity rises in me. I don't hear anything Michael says other than 'Emmie likes you'. Ever since I started developing these feelings for her, all I wanted to know is if she would reciprocate. Now that I know she is, screw giving her space. My feet are already moving out the door, passing a smiling Luke who just got home, probably aware of our conversation, and to my car before I can even process what I'm doing. I can't do it. I can't wait to see her anymore.

I park in one of the empty spaces near the apartment complex and swiftly get out of the car, shoving the keys into my coat pocket. I don't even remember driving over here which isn't safe, but all I care about is seeing her. Each step I take up the staircase makes my heart pound harder and faster in my chest, laboring my breathing. My fist makes contact with the door and I turn my back, rocking back and forth on my feet as I wait for someone to answer.

"Ashton?" Julia's voice startles me and I turn around to meet the confused blonde. "What are you doing here?"

"Is she here?" I breathe, looking past her shoulder and glancing around the small living quarters. Julia opens the door wider and stands aside to let me in.

"She will be in a few minutes. She's on her way back from work." She closes the door after I walk inside and stands next to me.

"Do you mind if I wait for her?" I ask. Even if you don't mind, I'm still going to stay.

"I don't mind, but aren't you supposed to be giving her space?" she says. "You're going to see her tomorrow, so what's the rush?"

Enough with the space. Forty hours is enough.

"I just...I need to see her." I say.

She looks at my pleading eyes, trying to decipher my motives and gives me a nod in consent. "Hey Ash," she calls as I begin walking towards Emmie's room. "I know you won't, but please don't hurt her."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

I walk into the dark room and sit down at the edge of her bed before leaning back until my back is pressed against the soft cushion of the mattress. I stare at the ceiling, not even knowing what I'm going to do when she shows up. Do I just give her a casual 'hello'? Do I surprise her and jump out of her closet? Do I sit her down so we can finally talk? None of those options sound right.

I shut my eyes for a few seconds before I hear the sound of the front door opening and Emmie's sweet, sweet voice that I have missed greeting Julia.

Sitting up straight, I wait for the beautiful brunette that I have longed to see open the door. The doorknob turns and the door flies open with much more force than I had expected. I watch as the petite girl concentrates on holding a stack of books in her arms as she walks in and closes the door behind her with her foot, not noticing my presence just yet. She turns around and her eyes flicker to mine and it was like she had just found a murderer in her room.

The books are thrown up into the air before falling and scattering on the floor. "Holy mother son-of-a-bitch!" she screams, combining different swear words together.

As amusing as her reaction is, I push aside the urge to laugh at her as I stand. Even if she's screaming, just hearing her voice is satisfying.

She flips the light switch on. "What are you doing here?" she asks, pressing her back against the door and placing her hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath and calm down after her mini heart attack.

"Nice to see you too," I tease, and I can hear Julia laughing before slamming a door shut, most likely to her bedroom.

Emilia's hair is pulled up into a ponytail with small strands falling out of the elastic band and I just want to pull it off and watch the hair fall down her back. After regulating her breathing, she kneels down to the floor and begins picking up the fallen books.

"You should have told me that you were coming over," Emilia says. "Now I'm going to be on guard every time I walk in my room." She smooths out one of the pages from a book that landed with the pages flat on the ground.

I help her pick up the remainder of the books and carry them over to her desk. "How are you?" I ask.

She kicks off her shoes and pulls the navy blue hoodie that she's wearing over her head, leaving her in a plain black v-neck that shows a considerable amount of cleavage. Not that I'm complaining.

"I'm great," she says, smiling and throwing the hoodie onto the bed. "How have you been?"

Miserable. Lonely. Like a dog who is waiting for their owner to come home. "I've been good," I say, returning her smile and leaning against her desk chair while she continues to stand by the door. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she says, fiddling with her fingers.

A nervous feeling spins around in my stomach and I contemplate whether or not to sit down. I have no idea what else to say to Emilia and I'm beginning to think coming over here might have been a mistake.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, wanting to know what is going on inside that mind of hers.

She hesitates for a moment and her cheeks flush. "How long have you liked me?" she asks.

This question couldn't be easier to answer. "Since the day I spilled your drink on you," I say with a smirk, causing Emmie to grin.

She looks up to the ceiling and inhales deeply before looking back to me. "That makes two of us."

That's all I needed to hear to give me confidence.

I walk the short distance between us and stand in front of her. Those grey eyes that I could get lost in at any moment stare into mine. There is no hint of anxiety or hesitation in those clouded orbs of hers as I move myself closer in proximity, pushing her gently against the door. I've never noticed how much shorter she is in comparison to me as I tower over her and pull the elastic band from her hair, letting it cascade down her back.

"Will you run away?" I whisper, placing my hand along her jaw line. Her porcelain skin is just as soft as I remember and I love how she is allowing me to even touch her.

"What?" she breathes, standing completely still, the only motion coming from the rise and fall of her chest.

I press myself closer to her, feeling her rapid heartbeat against my chest. "Will you run away again if I try to kiss you?" I lean my forehead against hers and my eyes flicker from her eyes down to her pink, soft lips and her breath hitches as I move in closer. Her hand reaches up and clutches my arm. I cup the back of her neck and tilt her chin up with my other hand, grazing my chapped lips against hers.

Her eyelids slowly fall shut and in a breathless whisper she says, "No."

A smirk plays on my lips as I hear the word that send a rush of adrenaline through my body. "Good."

Chills run up my spine as our lips attach to one another and move in a slow rhythmic motion. This kiss is nothing in comparison to the one on Halloween. Emilia is actually moving her lips in sync with mine and the feeling is indescribable. The sweet taste of her berry lip balm that she always carries around is driving me off the wall and I can't get enough of it.

I don't hesitate to move my hands down from her face and rest them on her wide hips, rubbing small circles with my thumb and holding her tightly against me. Emilia brushes her hands up my arms and wraps them around my neck. One hand fists the fabric of my shirt while the other finds its way to my hair, her fingers tangling themselves through it.

"Your hair is longer," she says in between kisses.

I pull back slightly, our lips barely touching. "Do you want me to cut it?" I breathlessly ask.

"No, I like it like this," she says, twirling a piece of my hair around her finger.

I peck her lips softly. "What about a trim? It's starting to get in my eyes." I'm kind of hoping that she will compromise because as much as I like that she likes my long hair, it's starting to become a bit of a hassle.

"A trim is fine." I can feel her smile against me as she stands to her tip-toes and connects our lips once again.

We should be talking about this. We should be explaining ourselves to each other. We should be questioning if this is right or wrong. We should be deciding where we go from here. But instead, here we are, pressed against one another and sharing one of the most invigorating kisses that I have ever experienced and I don't ever want to pull away. I love the way she pulls my hair. I love the way her hand roams around my back, exploring and touching every curve of my muscles. But what I love the most is that the feeling between us is mutual.

Just as I am about to deepen our kiss even more, an annoying voice breaks us from our embrace, detaching our lips altogether. Our eyes flutter open as we press our foreheads together and gaze into each other's eyes.

"Emilia!" Julia yells from outside the door. "Unless you plan on making dinner tonight, which I know you hate to do, make Ashton leave because I don't feel like fixing up another plate for him. No hard feelings, Ash."

Both Emilia and I laugh at Julia's outburst. "It's all right, Julia," I shout, keeping my eyes on the beauty in my arms.

"I guess that's your cue to leave," Emilia whispers, biting her swollen, red lips.

I run my hand through her hair, brushing back the light waves. "We still have to talk about this," I say softly, keeping the matter at hand of importance. She nods and removes her arms from around my neck, letting them hang at her side. "I'll see you in class tomorrow?"

The apples of her cheeks redden and her eyes crinkle at the sides as she smiles widely. "I'll be there," she says, copying my answer from my text to her, and I can't help but laugh a bit.

I kiss her forehead, lingering for a bit, before pulling away. I give her my farewell and exit her bedroom and then her apartment altogether. After getting into my car, I rest my head on the steering wheel and close my eyes.

This girl has got me wrapped around her finger.

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Emilia's POV

As I sit here waiting for Ashton to show up to class, the memory of yesterday evening is stuck on repeat in my mind. I can still feel the tingling sensation of where his gentle hands and lips touched me. I didn't want him to leave. I wanted him to stay with me and hold me for a little bit longer.

We should have talked about things, but I actually like how the situation turned out. I wouldn't change a single moment of it. Julia basically tackled me to the ground after he left and demanded that I tell her everything because apparently sneaking out of her room and eaves dropping on us wasn't good enough for her. She's completely supportive of what we did and is proudly rooting for us.

More students walk inside the classroom, taking a seat in the chairs that they have declared theirs since the beginning of the semester. Normally, Ashton is here before me, but when I arrived, his body wasn't sitting in his usual seat. I debate whether or not to call him to see where he is, but I decide against it.

Time continues to pass and still no Ashton. When Professor Ross enters the room and closes the double doors behind him, my heart drops. He turns his focus to me before glancing at Ashton's seat. I lower my head, breaking my eye contact with Professor Ross and fixate my eyes on the doors. After twenty minutes of staring at nothing, I give up and bring my attention to the lecture that I find completely uninteresting.

I'm beginning to think that maybe we handled this wrong.

____

A/N:

This chapter took so long to write! I had terrible writer's block for the past several days and I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to do this chapter.

I hope you're surprised with the way things turned out! I think some of you may have expected that they were going to talk in this chapter which is what I originally planned but I like this version better and I hope you do too. ­­

Thank you guys so much for 4.2k reads! I can't believe I went up almost a thousand reads since the last chapter. It is so unreal. Also, thank you for getting me to almost 500 votes! It means so much to me. Please continue to vote, comment, and share this story! Your comments make me smile and give me more motivation to keep on writing.

I love you guys so much! –Rebecca xoxoxoxoxoxoxo