Page 71 of Little Psycho

BONDING

LIPS OF AN ANGEL—HINDER

CALISTA

Ahint of mint and tobacco lingers on my tongue as I glide it over my teeth, my hands anxiously rubbing together while I sit on the couch and wait for Ash.The kiss plays on repeat in my mind, and a smile curls at my lips, longing for another exactly like it.

I sit here and reflect on memories of us when we were younger; Ash was always the quiet one, yet he possessed a heart and determination unlike anyone I had ever known.While I could easily turn to Dominic and Killian for support, I always sought out Ash first, knowing he would take the time to listen before offering advice.He confided in me too, especially during those difficult days when his home life was turbulent under his father’s shadow.

We would sit on the roof of his apartment in Revere for hours, gazing at the stars when the sky wasn’t filled with smog, trying to find the brightest one to wish upon.His soothing voice would often lull me to sleep, serenading me with songs from Taking Back Sunday or The Used.I cherished his voice; it was nothing short of enchanting.

I wonder if he still sings…

Of the three of them, Ash was always the one to keep his feelings close.While Dom and Killian freely shared their struggles with abuse and life’s challenges, Ash rarely volunteered his own experiences; it often took gentle coaxing to draw them out, and I was always the one who could bring them to the surface.Ash and I had a very special bond, and I haven’t been able to forget about it.

Though these boys have grown into young men with distinct personalities, a glimpse of the younger Ash remains, particularly when I look deeply into his gray eyes.They might be full of pain and suffering, but deep inside I can still see the boy that I once knew and loved.

The soft creak of his bedroom door pulls me from my thoughts, and my heart skips a beat as Ash steps into the dim light in the living room, a hacker mask clutched in his hand.His hair is a touseled mess, as if he just rolled out of bed, and he’s wearing black jeans and an old black band t-shirt with torn edges that I recognize from our high school days.My smile widens, blooming like a flower eager for the sun.

“Hey,” I say, my voice a little breathier than I intended.“I remember that shirt.”

He chuckles, a sound that warms me from the inside out.“I put it on just for you.I was hoping you’d remember it.”

He walks over to sink into the couch beside me, our shoulders brushing together, and for a moment, the world outside the window blurs out of focus.

“Thank you,” I reply, trying to sound casual.“I was just thinking about that summer we spent at the lake.Remember how we’d stay up all night talking about our futures?”

Ash nods, a contemplative look crossing his face.“Yeah, we thought we had it all figured out then.You were going to be a journalist, and I was going to study music.”He smirks, but his eyes remain serious.“Life sure does get in the fucking way, huh?”He scoffs, shaking his head.

I shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of unfulfilled dreams resting heavy on my chest.“Yeah, sometimes I feel like I’m just treading water.You know?”

He turns to me, and I catch a flicker of understanding in his eyes.“I get it,” he says quietly.“But it’s never too late to go after what you want.I mean, look at us—we’re still here, still trying to figure it the fuck out.You came back into our lives for a reason.”His affirmation sends a jolt of warmth through me, and I take a breath, steeling my resolve.

Ash leans against the back of the couch, his arm resting along the top, drawing me into the bubble of the space between us.“Speaking of figuring things out...”He glances at the guitar case by the wall, the one he had when we were kids.“You think I should try and play something?It’s been a while.”

“Definitely,” I encourage, my heart fluttering with anticipation.“I’d love to hear you play again.”

With a slight nod, he stands and retrieves the guitar.As he tunes the strings carefully, the familiar twang fills the air, stirring memories from deep within.I settle back, my gaze fixed on him, an involuntary smile spreading across my face as he strums a few idle notes.

Then, as if the music pulls him from the depths of his thoughts, Ash begins to play a melody I recognize all too well—Lips of an Angel, by Hinder—a song we used to sing together on those long, lazy summer nights.The soft notes fill the room, weaving through the air and wrapping around my heart.

I close my eyes and let his voice wash over me, the lyrics laced with an ache that seems to resonate within my very soul.

This is what he does; he takes his pain and sorrow and transforms it into something beautiful.And as he sings, I find myself wishing that this moment could last forever—here, with him, lost in the music and memories.

But fuck, it’s never that easy.

When the last chord hangs in the air, unbroken and vibrant, I open my eyes and find him staring at me, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“What did you think?”he asks, his vulnerability so palpable it knocks the breath from my lungs, almost like a punch to the gut.

“It was incredible,” I breathe, leaning closer, my heart racing.“You just get better and better.”

“Funny because I never play anymore; it’s just not the same as it once was.”He looks away, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks, and for a lingering moment, I wonder if he can see the depth of my feelings in my gaze—the love that has always lingered beneath the surface.

But before I can analyze it further, he shifts the conversation.“Do you remember that silly place we used to dream about running off to when we were having a bad day?The old diner that had the best milkshakes?”His eyes spark with nostalgia, pulling me back to those carefree days.

“Of course!I think we even made a promise—one day we’d go back and drink milkshakes until we couldn’t move,” I reply, laughing softly and shaking my head at how innocent and naive we were.

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