Slowly opening my eyes I stare right into the blinding light from the rising sun, I shift uncomfortably, but freeze as soon as I feel something next to me. I slowly turn my head, looking over my right shoulder and see Ashton still in the position he was in last night, with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched. The only difference now is that eyes are closed and his head is slightly resting on his left shoulder, providing me with a clear view of his features. The way his chest slowly moves up and down gives me a strange yearning to rest my head against his chest and feel his heartbeat. It’s in moments like this that I understand my timers, when I watch his keeks or see him rock out on stage or just simply watch him sleep peacefully makes me realise how beautiful he can be. It’s when we’re both awake and both conscious of each other’s presence that makes the unexplainable hatred come back.
I slowly sneak out of the bed, after taking a shower and getting dressed I walk into the empty kitchen. Well, empty apart from left over pizza boxes and beer cans and dirty dishes. It’s too early for any of them to be awake and I’m too awake to take a nap, so I just stick with cleaning up. A little over an hour later a strong bacon smell pierces the smell of the cleaning supplies I had just used as I cook some breakfast; bacon, eggs and toast. A very sleepy Calum walks in “… just you. … very loud.” he tells me. “Sorry.” I sign with an apologetic look on my face. People always accuse me of being loud, I can’t hear the noises I make when I slam cupboards shut or search for cooking supplies in the kitchen, but hearing people can.
Calum yells down the hall and soon three other sleepy boys walk into the kitchen. “Good morning” I sign at them, they’re very unresponsive. Their attention mainly focussed on the food in front of them. Michael starts talking and points at me midway through his sentence, whatever he said made Calum and Luke laugh and Ashton stare down at his plate, damn Michael for talking with his mouth full. Suddenly they all start talking rapidly and laughing in between, by the time I’ve located who’s talking they’re either already done with talking or they’re laughing so much that I can’t lipread them. The way they can easily hold fun conversations with each other while speaking makes me feel so excluded, at first I was tempted to ask to write instead, to slow down and try using gestures, but this was the first time I’ve seen them this relaxed and ‘normal’ around each other. Every other time they seemed uncomfortable and terribly aware of my existence. So instead of ruining their fun I keep quiet, I stay behind at the kitchen table and focus on my breakfast as they move to the couch and start playing video games.
It’s in moments like this that I wish they knew sign language. No, scratch that. It’s in moments like this that I somehow wish that I wasn’t deaf, a wish that I never had before and that terrifies me. I slowly get up and walk back to the guest bedroom as I zip up my bag and turn around I see Calum standing in the doorway. He doesn’t sign, he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t write, but the surprised look on his face asks me the question he needs to know: “What are you doing?”
After putting my bag back down I push both of my hands together causing them to form what looks like the roof of a house and I am silently thankful that the sign for “house” is so visual. Somehow he gives me a sad expression and searches his pockets for his phone and starts typing me a message.
You could stay until tomorrow, we have one out of 3 shows at Wembley tomorrow. After that we’ll be busy finishing up the Europe tour, you won’t see Ash again until like halfway through July.
I think about it for a few seconds, I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing myself to be in their life, but the last concert was so amazing that I’d love to see more.
I slowly nod, spending more time with them won’t hurt I suppose.