Well, he’s done it again. Ashton has totally, completely, fucked up. How does he keep on doing this? Nobody else he knows has this hard of a time trying to find love. What’s wrong with him?

It’s gotten to the point where he’s starting to believe that maybe his mother pissed off some kind of evil witch and she placed a spell on him that would make him forever sad and lonely. His eyes flick to his phone resting on the other side of the bed, half considering calling his mom to make sure that isn’t true.

What other explanation could there be? He can’t really be that bad at keeping a steady relationship.

All he knows is this is the first time, of all the dates he’s screwed up, where he’s genuinely determined to make it up to you.

It’s not a far drive to your house, though he somehow manages to catch every red light on the way. Maybe he’s just full of bad luck after all.

He’s tried calling your phone, tried texting you to apologize and propose another date. He offered to pay, he offered to let you choose whatever restaurant you want, he offered to do anything so long as you just gave him another chance. No reply. Nothing.

This is his last resort. He has a bouquet of flowers and chocolates buckled in the passenger seat beside him. Maybe you’re allergic to chocolate. Considering his luck, he wouldn’t completely rule out the possibility.

He parks in your driveway, taking that bouquet and chocolates and walking up to the door. He hesitates for a few seconds, anxiously tapping his foot before shaking his head against the thoughts of all the ways you could throw him out.

With a determined breath, he reaches forward and raps on the door. He waits a few seconds, his mind whirling before the door creaks open and there you are, staring back at him.

“Before you slam the door in my face, please just give me a chance to apologize first. I- I wasn’t thinking. I made a mistake. I just-…I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry. Please, just give me the chance to make it up to you.”