A Passion Crime to Take What's Mine

Ashley's P.O.V:
“Ashley, where's Andy? Were you two kissing on stage?” I got asked for about the thousandth time today.
“Andy's sick. And no, we were NOT kissing!” I snapped at the kids accidentally; I didn't mean to, but I have been asked this question so many times and they don't know how much it hurts me to be asked about him constantly. But that's just it, they don't know. They don't know what happened. Immediately I felt sorry for the kids, and, hating myself for what I did, I turned back to them “Hey, I'm sorry, I have been asked that so many times, but it's okay, you are allowed to ask question. Sorry for that sharp reply though, I am just stressed,” I apologised, pretty much pleading for them to accept it. At first they looked shocked, but they soon accepted,
“Ash, can I have a hug?” they each requested in sync. I beamed a relieved smile, pulling each of them into a quick hug. “What's wrong with Andy?”
“Err... We don't know yet, he just started being sick backstage and he really isn't looking too well,” I choke out through the rising tears that form behind my eyes. All to common to me was the feeling of panic and anxiety, but normally I would have Andy next to me to calm me down, but right now it is his absence due to heath that is causing this anxiety as I thought about what it could be and how he would be coping. Hopefully he would be still at the bus for when we return and hadn't been rushed to hospital or anything. Recovering, I couldn't wait until the last few people were seen and then I could look after Andy again.
“Hey, Ash, I know you want to get back to the bus and all that, but I want you to come out with me for a bit,” Jake more demanded than offered me to go out with him tonight. Feeling as though I couldn't say no to Jake, I exited the building with him by my side, directing me on where to go. We trailed along the streets of London for many lost minutes before Jake finally remembered where he was and swiftly go us to the bar he had intended.
“Err, Jake, I don't want to drink; I want to be okay to look after Andy... I'm worried about him,” I object as he raised his hand to but me a drink.
“I know you care for him,” he said, lowering his hand “And I am sorry for doubting you before. I shouldn't have, and I know that now, but I did the same as everyone else. I took Andy's side because we were told that you cheated on him, and I know I should have gotten more information but I have seen just how much he cares for you, just how much he needed you to be okay for him to be okay, so when Josh crashed your wedding we all assumed the same thing... and for that I am sorry.” Jake, as awkwardly spoken as he is, spoke, sorrow and guilt lacing his quiet voice. Taken aback by his apology, I stood, for a couple moments, agog before pulling myself together enough to make a coherent response.
“You... you don't have to be sorry. I knew how it came across, and in all honesty you are the only person to apologise. You are the only person I've spoken to who hated me, but you still apologised, and it's fine, Jake” he seemed to melt down into a seat at my words as relief flowed through his body. I sat down alongside him, flashing him a smile to let him know it's okay. “I miss Andy...” I mutter, looking down to my hands, wishing they were interlocked with Andy's pale, strong ones. Jake stood up and walked over to the bar returning with two drinks.
“I know you said you didn't want one, but seeing as we are here now you might as well just have one, and then we can go back to the bus. You won't be too drunk to look after Andy either.” I gladly accepted the drink because I knew that in all honesty I would have had one before going back. Taking a gulp of the sweet alcoholic drink that always make me want more, I picked up my phone wanting to type everything I felt into a message for Andy so when he picks up his phone next he could see everything I wanted to tell him but didn't have the guts to say to his face. But what if he didn't feel the same way? I just couldn't risk it, not when it could cause a fall out big enough to mess up the band and the tour. There is just no way I could allow myself to do that to our fans.
About four drinks later I realise that we have been here for longer than I had intended,
“Jake, we need to go back for Andy,” I alert him, but he doesn't seem to care, instead he just waves me off,
“Ash you need to have a good time, you are too pent up, and stressing over Andy's health isn't going to help, you know,”
“Ugh, I know, but if you came off stage and Ella just threw up and was really ill, well, you would want to be with here for every second you could, so could you please respect my wish to be with him too?” I plead, begging for him to hear just how important it is to me to be with Andy right now. My eyes wide, I watched as Jake finished his drink and stared thoughtfully out of the window.
“Okay, Ash, let's go back to Andy.” he spoke finally, and put his glass on the table as he stood up. I could have jumped for joy because of the amount of joy it genuinely gave me. No, stop it, Ash, you are a full grown man, calm the fuck down! Giggling giddily to myself, I hopped up out of my seat and skipped in front of Jake, eager to get back to Andy, but realising that I don't know London as well as Jake does so I have to stop every so often so he can catch up and lead the way again.
“Hurry up, Jake, please?” I whine, hoping it would make Jake speed up. Damn I wish I knew where the hell I was right now so I could just speed back to Andy's side.
The wind had picked up, and rain clouds were emptying their contents of tear-drops onto everything below, causing a faint giggle and smile to be evident on my face; this is the typical English weather for you. Every time we are here we are greeted with its grey and moody environment, even in the summer we get to play a festival in the rain... something you could only get in England. Granting the rain permission to trickle over my tired body, I walked with Jake back through the misleading streets, and once again we became lost.
“Err... Jake,I have to break it to you, but you know London better than all of us, so why can you never seem to walk around it?”
“Shut it, Ash, I'm trying to find a sign...”
“See what I m-mean? Come on, man, please can we just get back to the bus before I freeze to death in this rain?” I begged, as if it would help him find a sign and get us back to the tour bus. The water, now cascading over my already cold and soaking body, thundered down on the floor around us, mixed with hail. Shit. Hail hurts when it hits you with force and your freezing your ass off in a city you don't know your way around. “Dude, p-please find a way back because it's f-fucking freezing!”
“I'm trying, but I think we took the wrong turn back there, come on!” Jake screamed back to me, making his voice audible above the racket of the pummelling rain that continues to push down on us. Jake grabs my wrist, dragging me along dark alleys and vaguely familiar streets until we reach a road we were on not too long before. Panting for air, we back into an abandoned shop door to shelter from the weather. A stitch burning in my side, I pull in great gasps of air, filling my lungs and gaining enough oxygen to overpower it.
It wasn't long before Jake was dragging me through the streets again as we tried to dodge the hailstones. Running into the streets and hoping not to be hit by the hail was like giving a kid with nut allergies a bag of peanuts and expecting him not to get ill. It's never going to happen. Soon we were soaked right though, shivering and shaking from the rain as my hands and feet have become numb.
Finally the bus came into sight as we clambered clumsily up to it. Limbs numb to the cold but feeling as though they are on fire, we fumbled to open the door before collapsing into a heap sprawled out on the floor. Too exhausted from running back, I wouldn't get up if it wasn't for the fact I was soaking from head to toe and would continue to feel icy until I got changed. Stumbling, I made my way to my feet, and swiftly got the shower ready as I slowly peeled of my sodden skin tight clothes, which is a pretty difficult task to do when you struggle to move your fingers. After a struggle I was ready for the shower, and so I shifted into it, letting the warmth of the water melt some of the numbness from my body. When life had resumed its place in my body, I started to wash my hair, running my hands through my longish black hair. Unlike Andy, my hair never became matted and needed to be cut off, probably because I take great care on how I look, so my hair has stayed at pretty much the same length; just below the shoulders.
Turning off the shower, I run my hand over my arms and legs to get rid of some of the water before doing the same to my hair, this way I don't drip on the floor as much; I step out, wrapping myself in a towel, and checking myself once in the mirror before unlocking the door dropping my clothes in the washing. I dry myself off as I search through my clothes to find a fresh, dry, pair of boxers and jogging bottoms. I don't normally wear them; they are much more Andy's thing when he's having a lazy day, but I'm far too cold to walk around in just my underwear. Leaving my hair, I just quickly rub out some of the water with the towel and head out to see how Jake is doing. Entering the living area, I could see that Jake had gotten himself changed and dried off, although he still looked very cold. In his hand was a little notebook, which I instantly recognised as Andy's; he always writes in it, no matter what his feelings are, everyday he will write something down.
“Jake, where did you get that?” I hissed, motioning towards the Misfits notebook he held in his hand,
“Calm it, dude, it was on the floor, I just picked it up, and it looks like he's written something for you” he ushered, waving the opened notebook at me to show one page saying: I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you; I can't promise to take away all of your pain, but I can promise you that I will never let you face them alone.”
I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I read it over again, could this be true? Could he really still care for me? Because I sure as hell care for him. I silently breathed 'I love you' as I looked up, wishing Andy heard.