As I walk through the door, I can't help smiling at the familiar place; I've only lived in this apartment for a little over a year, but I've never felt more at home anywhere else. Not even the house I lived in for 18 years a few miles from here. Of course, I can only wish that the person next to me felt as joyous as I do.

        "H- hi, little guy," I mumble and bend over, with slight difficulty due to my leg being in a cast, surprised to see our westie Kai running toward me. I pet his fluffy head, and I find it weird that he actually enjoys it; he's always liked Ashton more than me, so he spent more time with him. Even though getting a puppy was my idea – some people have a baby when their relationship is falling apart, and the two of us went to a shelter and got a puppy.

        "Uh, that's... that's our dog, Ty." I frown for a split second at his words, but smile when I look up at him.

        "Ty, huh?" I repeat, and Ashton nods curtly. He's either messing with me or he's got some sort of amnesia too. "Hi, Ty," I smile, offering the dog a hand, and he puts his soft paw on my palm. Wow, I never gave him credit for it, but Ashton really did a good job training him.

        "Wow," Ashton stretches the word out, making me look up at him again, as he takes his jacket off. "You really don't remember anything."

        I blink a couple of times at that, "Huh?"

        "The... the dog's name is actually Kai. I was expecting you to correct me."

        I frown at Ashton's words, smirking a bit while Kai cuddles against my ankles. "Were you testing me?"

        "...Kind of."

        Smiling at how embarrassed he actually looks while admitting that, I can't help but gulp at the thought of him testing me; if he continues doing that, I need to train myself for it.

        "Alright, well," Ashton starts, with a small sigh as he kicks my bag to one of the corners of the hallway, looking around indifferently as Kai runs off to another room. "This is where... we live. Bedroom's there, guest room there, living room slash dining room slash kitchen over there, and that's the bathroom." He finishes by pointing at the room next to the front door, while I nod to each word he says. Even though I know all of it like the back of my hand. "You can have the bedroom, I'll sleep on the couch."

        "Okay," I respond quietly, not particularly happy about that last bit, but I'm not going to push him into anything. I've done enough of that as it is.

        "And you'll only be here until you go back to uni, we'll get you a dorm in October and you can move out."

        An even bigger lump forms in my throat at his words, but I'm able to swallow it and nod in his direction. I have a little over two and a half months to change his mind about that. "Okay," I repeat, taking my crutches from against the beige painted wall.

        My footsteps are a little hesitant as I make my way to the 'living room slash dining room slash kitchen', looking around as if it's my first time here. He hadn't changed anything while I was at the hospital, there are still video game keep-cases piled up on the coffee table and little drum kit figurines on almost every flat surface.

        "Right," I hear his voice and look over my shoulder, to see him standing at the door. "I know the doctor said I should keep an eye on you the first few days, but... you can stay here by yourself, right? You have the TV and your laptop to keep you occupied, I'm... I have to work."

        I blink at him, not knowing how to respond to that since it really caught me off guard. "Wait, Ashton?" I call, a little panicked as he turns around to leave, and he reluctantly turns back to me, trying to look like he's not annoyed but I know him better than that. This time last year he was all smiles and giggles around me; is it even possible for a person to mess up another person this much in such a short period of time?

        "What do you do?" I ask softly, stammering a little. Asking questions like this is definitely going to take some getting used to.

        "Uh..." He sighs, putting his hands on his hips and awkwardly taking a few steps toward me. In his defense as well as mine, we haven't had a proper conversation since March. "I'm in a band. I have a part-time job in a video shop, but the band is my main priority."

        A few tense seconds later, he nods to himself, and turns around to walk out of the large room again. I know it's still early to be pushing him into talking to me, but I just can't help myself. "Could you stay with me for a while?"

        Biting my lip, I watch him turn around again, this time looking surprised rather than annoyed. "Why?"

        "Because," I start, as if I'm about to state the obvious, when in reality I've no idea what to tell him. "I-I just came from the hospital, and... I mean I'm fine by myself, but I don't want to be alone."

        A bit desperate, but I'll forgive myself if it works and he stays. "Could the band wait?" I ask again, fidgeting my hands and giving him a hopeful look. I know I'd lost every right to ask him for anything when I did the unspeakable, but I'm not faking amnesia so that he could ditch me in the first two minutes.

        "Um," He starts again, indecisive, his eyes darting from one object in the room to the other. "Yeah, I guess I could spare ten minutes. You want anything to drink?"

        Ten minutes, I repeat his words in my head in a bit of a dissatisfied manner, but I'll have to settle for that for now. "No, thanks," I reply quietly as he walks past me to the fridge, and I stroll to the couch on the other side of the room. A few seconds later he's sitting on the other end of the sofa, already chugging his beer. I raise my brows as he places the green bottle on the coffee table, now half full. Well, I shouldn't be surprised that he feels the need to get drunk before talking to me.

        "So," He begins, in a rather loud tone as he reaches for the remote to turn the TV on, "What did you need?"

        "Um..." It's my turn to stutter; is that why he thinks I wanted him to stay? Beause I need something? "I just wanted to talk to you."

        Ashton slowly nods, his eyes glued to whatever he's watching on the TV. "Talk," He repeats to himself quietly, turning the volume down a bit, to my pleasant surprise. And then he takes the bottle again, not lowering it from his mouth until it's completely empty. If he does that every time I ask him to talk to me, he's going to become an alcoholic in no time.

        "'Bout what?" He finally asks, turning his body slightly to me, now looking a bit more relaxed. He's never been much of a drinker; another five to six of those bottles of beer and he's out cold. Even now, I can tell that he's already buzzed.

        "I don't know," I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest and pulling my good leg up on the couch. "At the hospital, my dad mostly tried helping me remember my childhood... we didn't talk about my life now."

        He blinks at me twice, his lips parted slightly. "So you want us to talk about you?"

        Well, when you say it like that... "I just- want to know what I've been doing in the past few years," I say in an awkward tone, looking around while trying to express my thoughts. "And what you've been doing. That's more important than knowing that I wore braces when I was six and that I couldn't learn how to ride a bike until I was thirteen."

        Ashton blinks again, nodding a couple times. "Okay... well, you... we- we met in high school. You were a freshman, and I was a sophomore. We started dating at the end of my senior year, and your junior year. Um... when you finished high school, your parents... they-they had to... move to Canberra, so you moved in with me. Here. I was in college but I didn't go back after my first year, it just wasn't for me, so... I stuck with the band and my job at the video shop."

        I smile lightly at him, as he- well, it seems that he's looking straight through our box TV. "Are you famous?" I ask, biting my lip as he snorts. He does that whenever someone mentions the word 'famous' in the same sentence as his band.

        "Far from it. We're more local... wouldn't have anything against being famous though," He mutters the last part to himself as he reaches for his bottle of beer, obviously forgetting it's empty for a second. He sighs and, without a word, stands up to go to get himself another one.

        He comes back in less than a minute, but the way he's handling this 'situation' is really bothering me. If I were still the person I was before the accident it wouldn't, and I can't say that I've changed completely, but this is supposed to be a 'new start'. I sure as hell am not going to treat him like the old Lucy did, and he shouldn't treat me like I'm still the same person.

        "What did you study in uni?" I ask, to break the silence. He lowers the bottle from his lips – that he'd half-emptied like the first one – and shrugs in response.

        "Fine Arts. Dumb as fuck," He mumbles again, I frown for a split second at how he phrased that; he's usually the one to tell others not to swear? "I wouldn't have a future even if I got a degree, why waste money on three more years?" He shrugs again, bringing the bottle to his mouth again. Something's telling me I should have just let him go to 'work'.

        "And... I'm in journalism?" I decide to try again. "My dad told me about it."

        "Yeah," Ashton nods, inspecting the bottle in his hand. For Christ's sake. "You always said you're either gonna study journalism or go to a cooking school. And now you're doing it."

        "Cooking?" I blink at him, desperate for him to look at me. "I can cook?"

        "Yeah," He repeats monotonically. "You're quite the chef, actually. You cooked for me on our third date and we never went out after that, we always stayed in and I always made you cook for me."

        I grin subconsciously, feeling like a thousand pounds have been lifted off my chest when he smiles too, reminiscing. And then those thousand pounds return when his smile falters just a few seconds later. "You liked cooking for me," He frowns at the object in his hand, his voice barely over a whisper as he adds, "You liked doing things for me."

        I gulp again, glancing at my hands for a second. I haven't cooked for him since the beginning of the year; that's definitely something I'm going to start doing again, as soon as I ask him how to use the stove since I'm supposed the be clueless about life.

        "Well," I start, in the most normal voice I can muster. "As-as soon as my leg gets better, I'll cook for you again." He snorts at my statement, shaking his head lightly. What, does he not believe me? Screw it then, I'm cooking for him tomorrow. "And I'll also do other things, like I'll be able to see your band and-"

        "No," He cuts me off, his tone harsh, shaking his head firmly and placing the now empty bottle on the coffee table a little too hard. "Don't, just... you don't- you don't like seeing the band live, you just... no."

        After that clumsy but strict statement – which almost sounded like a command – Ashton gets up from the sofa and quickly walks to the hallway, almost kicking Kai on his way there. As soon as I put myself and his band in the same sentence I knew I'd made a big mistake, but he can't just leave whenever I mention something that... I shouldn't mention.

        "Ashton?" I call, panicked once again as I struggle to stand up, my crutches and broken leg slowing me down significantly as I try making my way to the hall that seems kilometers away. "Ashton?"

        "Hm?" He responds, his voice too casual as he adjusts his beanie in the mirror, his jacket and boots already on. "Yeah, the guys are expecting me, I should... I need to..."

        He mumbles another few incoherent words before exiting the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. I roll my eyes in defeat, already feeling tears form as I lean against the chest of drawers that's behind me.

        He's not just going to forget everything, regardless of whether I have my memory or not. I've known that in the back of my head, but it's just starting to really sink in now. No matter what I do, these two and a half months are going to be long and I need to brace myself for it.

*

gah writing about ashton being like that was almost painful

what do you think about it so far?? i have so many things planned omg i only hope i can fit them in two and a half months hehehe. leave feedback please? :) x