Ashton's POV

I hate time. The mere concept of it physically sickens me. Days when you wish time could flow by faster tortures you by moving agonizingly slow. Days when you want to cherish every priceless second screws you over and ends in a blink of an eye. Days when you wish to stay up all night talking to the person who you hate sleeping without are ruined once daybreak shines its glowing rays of unwanted luminosity in your eyes. Days when you wish you could push a best friend's betrayal to the side and simply talk to him about the bubbling anxiety building within your core as their day of flight approaches seems almost tangible until you realize you wasted your time brooding over his mistake and ran out of time.

Like air, time doesn't show itself as it flows around us, aging our lives with each second, minute, and hour. You can't physically see it run past you, but it doesn't fail to remind you of what you could have done and what you have to do. Time is my enemy because I can't control it. I can manage it, but I can't control its sovereignty over me.

These past three weeks didn't pass in a blur. No, they passed like a metronome, each second a steady, consistent, beating rhythm. It sounds nice, but I needed it to waver. I needed the inconsistency. Even when I was stressed with midterms earlier this week, it didn't lessen the clusterfuck of emotions spilling from every orifice in my body. My countdown is just about to end, and I'm not even remotely close to being prepared for the inevitable.

"You all have your passports, right? Even the girls?" Mum asks, relaying a packing checklist as I pace around Emilia's bedroom with my cell phone pressed firmly against my ear.

"Emilia and Julia are checking to see if they came in the mail," I say, which doesn't ease my mother's nerves as she rambles on about how the mail is always unpredictable and that there's only one day left until our flight. "They've been tracking the package ever since it was shipped. It's out for delivery right now, so don't worry."

"But what if they made a mistake and forgot it at the post office?"

I throw my head back and sigh. "The last thing I need right now is another what-if, mum. I'm already at my wits end with everything going on."

"I know, sweetie," she coos. "Have you tried opening up to Emilia lately to get thing off your chest?"

"She's always my go-to person. I talk to her about everything."

"Well, have you tried talking to one of the boys? What about Luke? He was always there for you down here. Have you tried talking to him?"

Tried talking to him, yes. Actually following through with my attempts, no. "He's been busy doing his own thing," I lie. "I'll try talking to him later."

There was no discussion about Luke's secret kiss to Emilia. Emilia knows I know, and I know she knows. We left it at that. She could have told me, but I don't hold the fact she didn't against her. What's done is done. I'm aware of the situation and that's all that matters.

When we're together with everyone, Luke and I act as though nothing has happened between us. We still talk and hang out with each other but never alone. Emilia isn't blind to mine and Luke's façade. She can easily see our tension but hasn't made an effort to get involved. She doesn't make it aware that I've been clinging to her for the past couple weeks. She endures my watchful eye when she and Luke speak to one another. She's keen on everything, even my unspoken yearn to talk to Luke.

I can tell Emilia everything, and I much as I like to think her support is all I need, I'm wrong. She doesn't know what Luke knows. What I've told her is only a dent in the surface of my time with Natalie. Luke has been with me through this pain before. He knows how destructive my thoughts can become. He knows how utterly weak I am even when I think I'm Mr. High-and-Mighty.

I want to stay angry with Luke. I'd even be down for hitting him again. But I just can't bring myself to do it. He's been the bigger man this entire time, putting up with my protectiveness of Emilia and keeping more distance than he has before. I hardly see him look at her with admiration and affection anymore. Either he's good at hiding it or knows his rightful place.

"Harry and Lauren are excited to see you," Mum says, appropriately changing topics. "They didn't expect for you to come home so soon."

"You make it sound like I'm coming back for good," I say light-heartedly. "I can't wait to see them. Hopefully they won't be too busy being teenagers to hang out with their brother."

"I'm sure they can schedule you in."

Groans of dissatisfaction enter the apartment. I peek out Emilia's bedroom to see both she and Julia examining each other's newly obtained passports.

"Mum, I have to go. Emmie got her passport and we need to finish packing."

"Oh, all right. I'll pick you guys up from the airport when you land, okay?"

"Okay. I'll see you soon." I end the call and slide the phone into my pocket.

When I walk out into the living room, Emmie and Julia are sitting on the red couch, displeased with whatever is in the black booklet they're holding.

"Bad pictures?" I guess.

"They don't even look like us," Julia huffs. "I know they say the camera adds ten pounds but this looks like they added thirty to our faces."

I glace over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the familiar yet unfamiliar woman in the picture. "That's supposed to be you?" I ask incredulously.

She swats at my arm. "Rude."

"I'm joking. It really doesn't look that bad. If you want to see bad take a look at Cal's" I sit next to Emilia on the couch. "How does yours look?"

She slams the small booklet shut and holds it far away from me. "I don't want you to see it," she says. "It's not pretty."

"We've been over this; you know that's not possible. Let me see it."

She frowns; her hesitation fueled by self-consciousness, but my assurance leads to her placing the black booklet in the palm of my hand. Inside, the quality of the picture is far from perfect but decent enough to capture all the beautiful aspects of her. The natural waves to her hair, her rounded cheeks, the way her eyes squint when she smiles. There's not a flaw to be seen. And that's the thing about Emilia; unlike Natalie, whose flaws I tried so hard to love and accept, Emilia's flaws are what I love most about her. Personality, physicality, emotionality; I love it all. I've accepted everything from day one, and I can't find a flaw that isn't worth loving.

"You look fine," I say. "Calum would say the same thing to you, Julia. And if he doesn't and makes a snide remark, let me know and I'll kick his ass for you."

Julia laughs. "I'll keep you updated." Leaving me and Emilia, she saunters off to her bedroom to finish packing.

"I should probably finish packing too," Emilia says and I follow her inside her bedroom. "What did your mom say when she called?"

"She was just telling me what to pack and...stuff."

She slowly folds a shirt and places it in her suitcase, keeping her eyes locked on me. "What kind of stuff?"

Sighing, I lie down on the bed, resting my hands behind my head. "She noticed how anxious I am and suggested I talk to Luke."

"You should," she says undeniably. "You can't stay angry at him forever."

"I'm not angry at him; I'm angry at what he did."

"It doesn't matter. You saw how apologetic he was. He knows what he did was wrong and he wanted to fix things because you're like his brother and losing you would be like losing family. And let me tell you, losing family is the worst feeling a person can experience. I love you, Ash, but your clinginess is driving me up the wall. I was starting to look forward to going to school and work because I don't have to see you there. Luke is our friend, and as much as you may hate it, he's important in our lives. Even though that kiss may have meant the world to him, he doesn't think it was worth all of this. Sure, he broke the Bro Code or whatever and damaged your friendship, but name one other time when he let you down."

I turn and break away from her glowering face, unwilling to answer. "I need to finish packing," I say, rolling off the bed. "I'll come pick you up in the morning. Don't forget to pack a jacket—it gets cold in the evening down there." I kiss her temple and leave the apartment, the drive home being ungenerously short.

Suitcases line the entryway when I walk inside the house. Packing light doesn't seem to be of concern. I step further inside and watch as Calum carries a black duffle bag downstairs and tosses it with the rest.

"The girls all packed?" he asks, turning into the kitchen and plating a slice of lasagna from the oblong baking dish sitting on the stove.

"For the most part," I answer. "Just a heads up, don't laugh at Julia's passport photo."

"I highly doubt it's worse than mine."

"No one's is worse than yours," I joke. "Are you going to take her to meet your parents?"

He nods. "Mali-Koa too. She took a semester off and is staying with them, so Julia will be able to meet everyone."

"Nice."

From upstairs, Michael shouts, demanding to know where his phone charger is and accuses one of us of stealing it. Calum shouts just as loud for Michael to check underneath his bed. Back-and-forth yelling deafens me and I seek shelter in my room. It isn't long before Michael shouts that he found the charger right where Calum suggested checking.

The house soon quiets as everyone finishes packing, making it difficult to distract myself as I shove clothes into my suitcase. This is actually happening. We'll be on a plane to Australia in less than twelve hours. I'll be returning to see the reason why I left. I'll be attending a wedding that should have been mine. And I don't know what to expect or how to react when we land.

I'm scared.

I was nervous before, but now that the time has finally come, I'm fucking terrified.

The woody rattle of two knocks on the door and the jiggling of the doorknob nearly raise my blood pressure as I spiral into anxiety. Half of Luke's body steps through the threshold, the other half visibly reluctant to intrude.

He tosses a black cord onto my bed. "I borrowed your laptop charger and I came to give it back since I found mine."

"Thanks."

He nods, weakly smiling as he tries to slip out.

"Luke, can we talk?"

His only nods, fully stepping inside and shutting the door.

"Look," I start, "I'm still pissed and you're still untrustworthy, but with all this shit that's about to happen, I need your help. I'm scared out of my fucking mind and not even the thought of Emilia is helping me right now. I don't want to admit that Natalie makes me vulnerable, but she does."

"I was expecting you to yell at me again, not this."

"I can call you a dick if you'd like—because by all means, I'd be happy to."

"I'll pass," he says. "I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell you she doesn't have control over you. So what if she's your ex? She's got her life and you've made a new one with someone who I see you potentially having a future with. It's going to be hard and hurt like a bitch—I get that, but trust me when I say you left and threw everything behind for good reason. You're above Natalie and she can never take what you have now unless you let her. You didn't throw her engagement ring in a lake just to fall victim to her again."

I sit on the bed and stare at the platinum watch on my wrist, the hand ticking as each speechless second passes until I find my voice. "Can you really see a future for me and Emilia?"

"You're an idiot if you can't see what everyone else can. You wanted to go to the wedding to let go. Do that and maybe you'll be able see what's been in front of you for months. You've got nothing stopping you but yourself."

"That's one hell of a pep-talk," I mumble jokingly.

"What did you expect me to say? Everything is going to be all right? You'll get through this? Don't worry? Fuck that. I'm going to tell you like it is."

"Dick."

"What?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to call you that."

"How sweet of you."

We suppress our laughs, but the same can't be said for our grins reflecting back at one another. He knows I'm still angry yet he's here patting my back. Even after everything, he isn't letting me down when I need him to shove reason and logic down my throat. He makes it so difficult to not view him as a good friend because of his genuine support for me.

"I may need you to toss that pep-talk at me again in case I start shaking like a Chihuahua later," I joke.

"You've really got nothing to worry about. What the worst that could happen? If anything, you can try to avoid Natalie until the wedding. Spend time with Emmie instead. Take her sightseeing and whatnot."

"That's the plan."

"We'll only be there for a week and a half. Time will fly by before you know it."

"Yeah." Time hasn't been on my side, but I guess there's no harm in wishing. "How has dating been going?"

He shrugs. "Okay, I guess. I haven't met someone worth taking on a second date but it's whatever."

"I don't want you to force yourself to date around."

"You're not forcing me to do anything. I chose to start dating for myself. Yeah, it's to help get over Emmie but not entirely; I have my reasons."

"Well, I hope you find someone."

"We'll see." His voice is weighing between optimism and doubt. "I should go finish packing. You should too."

I agree, glancing down to my half-empty suitcase. "Thanks for calming me down."

"I know it won't be the last time during this trip," he says, halfway out the door. "Try not to stay up all time worrying." The door closes before I can respond.

I let out a long sigh and pull my phone from my pocket, dialing Emmie's number and cutting in before she can greet me.

"He still hasn't let me down."

"I told you," she says matter-of-factly. "Did you two talk?"

"Yeah."

"Do you feel better?"

"For the most part."

"Good."

"Are you still packing?"

"I'm almost done. I just need to figure out how to fit my dress in this suitcase. What about you?"

"I'm working on it."

"Okay. Do you want me to let you go?"

"Can you just stay on the line? You don't have to talk or anything. I just want you to stay."

"I'll stay."

______

A/N: It's always nice to show someone you love them without saying 'I love you.' I know this is short, but not all chapters have to be 3k+ words and I didn't feel the need to drag it out. Luke and Ash are sort of on good terms. They're about to leave to Australia and oh my gosh I have so much planned. I actually have stuff PLANNED. I never have things planned for this story. But yeah. This is going to be fun and emotions will go everywhere.

As you guys know, PYW is entered in the 2015 Watty Awards but it has also been nominated in the second season of the 5sos Watty Awards in the Ashton Irwin, Distinguished Plot, Luring Title, and Feels categories! I will let you know when voting begins for them!

As for the official Wattys, I'm beyond excited to have PYW running alongside some amazing stories. I'm rooting for everyone who entered! Please read, re-read (if you'd like. I'm currently editing it and have added some stuff but nothing that affect the storyline), vote, and most importantly share PYW to your friends! All this reader interactivity will really help me out!

Thank you for all your support. I can't believe Painting Flowers already has 40k+ reads! I'm truly thankful for all of you! Please leave some feedback, vote, and all that jazz. 

Love you! –Rebecca xoxoxoxoxo