Ashton grabbed his gym bag and took one last look at himself in the mirror. He squinted slightly, adjusted a stray strand of hair, and smirked.
'I don't really want to leave her alone… but she's not exactly someone who deserves to be cared for,' he thought to himself.
With that, he slung the gym bag over his shoulder and headed downstairs.
"Aunt! I'm leaving," he called out.
Ashley emerged from the hall, her expression playfully distressed.
"You're just going to leave me alone?" she pouted. "What if robbers break in? What are they gonna do to me? Who's going to protect me?" Her voice dripped with feigned seduction, her brows knitting together as she made an exaggeratedly cute face.
Ashton stared at her, unimpressed.
"I'll be back by six. Just rest, and if Mom calls, tell her I'm at the gym," he replied flatly.
Seeing his cold and indifferent response, Ashley straightened up, her playful expression fading.
"Hmm," was all she said in return.
Ashton turned to leave, gripping the door handle. But just as he was about to step out, he hesitated for a moment before speaking softly.
"…And take care of yourself. Just rest, okay?"
He didn't turn around as he said it. His voice was calm, almost distant.
Ashley's eyes widened in surprise.
'He's so sweet. He never shows it, but he cares.'
Without thinking, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
"Oh, Ashton, thank you, my baby!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly.
Ashton stiffened.
"Whoa—what are you doing? Let go," he grumbled, wiggling uncomfortably.
Without looking back, he pried her arms off, slipped on his shoes, and walked out, shutting the door with a firm thud.
Ashley stood frozen in place, as if she had just reached enlightenment. A peaceful smile graced her lips.
Meanwhile, Ashton walked down the street, hands shoved into his pockets.
'Thank God I don't have to take her out today. But it's not over… The moment she gets better, she's definitely going to ask me again.'
Hours Later
Ashton stepped out of the gym, sweat dripping down his forehead, bruises decorating his face like battle scars. His body ached, his knuckles throbbed.
'What a sparring session,' he thought, wincing slightly as he rolled his shoulders.
'I didn't lose against that new guy, but it was close. Landed some clean shots… He only won because his stamina was better. I need to work on that.'
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his sore jaw.
'Man… I'm starving.'
Ashton walked down the quiet streets, the dull ache in his muscles reminding him of the sparring session earlier. The air was cool, the sky tinged with the last hues of sunset.
'Mom's still not home, and Aunt's probably been resting… or causing some new drama,' he thought, rolling his eyes.
As he reached the front door, he hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.
The house was quiet—too quiet.
He placed his gym bag on the floor and kicked off his shoes.
"Aunt?" he called out, but there was no response.
Frowning, he walked toward the living room and found Ashley curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, fast asleep.
Her long lashes rested against her cheeks, her chest rising and falling steadily. She looked peaceful—far too peaceful for someone who usually never shut up.
'She must've been exhausted,' Ashton thought.
He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. He wasn't good at this whole caring thing, but leaving her like this didn't sit right with him either.
He stepped closer, leaning slightly.
"Aunt?" he called softly.
No response.
He let out another sigh.
'Alright, guess I have no choice.'
Carefully, he reached down and slid one arm under her legs, the other supporting her back. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward her room.
Just as he was about to lay her down on the bed, she stirred, her eyes barely opening.
"Ashton…?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"You fell asleep on the couch," he muttered. "Go back to sleep."
She blinked up at him groggily, her gaze soft, almost vulnerable.
"You smell like sweat," she murmured, her lips curving into a sleepy smile.
Ashton scowled.
"Then stop breathing so close to me."
Ashley chuckled weakly, her fingers loosely gripping the fabric of his shirt.
"Put me down, muscle man… I can walk."
"Yeah, sure, because you were doing a great job lying unconscious on the couch," he replied dryly but gently placed her on the bed.
Ashley snuggled into the pillow, her body sinking into the warmth.
As Ashton pulled the blanket over her, she mumbled, "You're not as mean as you pretend to be."
He froze for a split second before scoffing.
"Go to sleep, drama queen."
He turned to leave, but before he could take a step, he felt a light tug on his wrist.
"Ashton."
He glanced down.
She didn't say anything, just looked at him for a moment, her grip loose but lingering. Then, as if sleep was finally pulling her under, she let go, her hand slipping away.
"What happened to your face? Did you get into a fight?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
"No," Ashton replied flatly, "I was at boxing class. Isn't that obvious?"
Ashton stood there for a moment before shaking his head and walking out, shutting the door softly behind him.
'She's such a handful,' he thought.
But strangely, he didn't mind it as much as he pretended to.
Walking into the kitchen, he pulled open the fridge, grabbed a chilled bottle of water, and made his way to the dining table.
He sat down, tilting his head back as he gulped down half the bottle. His body ached with exhaustion. Placing his elbow on the table, he rested his head against his hand, exhaling deeply.
With a quiet sigh, he screwed the lid back on and pressed the cold bottle against his bruises, letting the chill soothe the dull throbbing pain.
I'm so drained... I don't even have the strength to go on a date with Jenny. And mom still isn't home…
He closed his eyes, his thoughts growing hazy. I don't want to go… I just want to sleep…
Still seated at the table, his body grew heavier, and before he knew it, he was drifting off.