"Thank you so much." I said thankfully, breathing a sigh of relief, giving Jake and Joel a grateful smile.
"No problem, you sure you can take it from here?" Jake asked worriedly, eyeing the passed out Asher.
"Yes, thank you for both of your help." I thanked them once again.
"No problem, bye Laura, see you on Monday." Joel bade me goodbye, I waved at them and started driving.
A few minutes later, Asher started to groan, "Where am I?"
"In the back of your car." I answered, keeping my eyes on the road, but sneaked a glance at him.
His hair was so messy, his eyes confused and squinted. He looks kind of cute.
"Why?"
I rolled my eyes, "You passed out, so I decided to be a nice person and bring you home, I asked for Jake and Joel's help to carry you out to your car and I am driving you home."
"Oh." He said, he sounded so disoriented.
After a few moment of silence, he blurted out suddenly, "I can't go home."
Just as I was about to make the turn into his neighborhood, I slammed onto the brake. The car skidded to a halt, the seatbelt straining against my chest painfully. There was a loud thud and a string of curses that followed.
"Where else can I take you?" I stared at him questionably through the review mirror.
He shrugged. He had the decency to shrug.
I glared at him through the mirror.
We had a stare down for a minute and he looked away first.
"I really cannot go home." He said in a pleading tone, his eyes unfocus yet somehow it managed to look like a sad puppy's pleading eyes.
I groaned, why did I even bother to bring him home.
Once in a blue moon, I decided to do something nice and this was how fate repay me.
I turned and glared at him, "Then what do you want me to do? Leave you on the streets? Do you have any friends' house you can stay for a night?"
He shrugged again, "No, they are all at the party."
Great.
"But... I have a place..." he said unsurely.
"Where?" I asked hopefully.
He looked at me sheepishly, "Your place?"
My eyebrow shot up so high, I wondered did it reached my hairline. "Are you serious?"
"I-you can leave me on the streets?" He said it with a questionable tone.
"Oh my god, I am so done. I cannot believe this." I muttered angrily to myself, I slammed onto the gas pedal and the car lurched forward.
"Why am I doing this?" I muttered, starting to question my sanity as I parked Asher's car in my driveway.
Asher got out unsteadily, swinging on his feet as he took each step.
I got out my keys and went in, with Asher rushing and pushing me out of the way as he ran upstairs. The sound of him wrenching all the contend of his stomach out was horrifying, but the stink was worse. I went upstairs to check on him.
He came out of the bathroom, his cheeks still tinted pink.
"You can sleep on the couch." I said to him, as I got my pajamas and went into the bathroom to take a shower.
I was dead tired by the time I had finished my shower and night routine. Just as I was about to crash onto my bed, I noticed Asher, shirtless on my bed, fast asleep.
Are you freaking kidding me.
I glared at him, and of course he couldn't see it.
Where am I suppose to sleep?
"Fine I will just sleep in my parent's room." I muttered to myself, turning the doorknob.
"You can stay with me." A tired voice mumbled.
"You are awake! Now get off my bed." I walked back towards my bed.
"No." And he snuggled deeper into my pillows.
I gave him a death glare, hoping he could feel it and leave my bed. After a while, I gave up and started to leave when he caught my wrist; catching me off guard, he pulled me down.
I let out a small gasp as I tumbled down onto my bed, and he put his arms around my waist, caging me. I gave up struggling because I was too tired to fight and I knew I would lose even if I did.
"What's wrong with you? One moment you are ignoring my existence and the next you are cuddling with me?" I said, frustration laced in my every word. Do not concentrate on his arms around me. Do not think about his shirtless body just right behind mine. Do not think about him.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled into my neck. I shuddered from the sudden warmth from his breathe.
"Sorry? You are sorry?" I snorted, "You-you were being my friend and the next you treated me as if I was nothing." My voice cracked at the end.
"I am really sorry." He breathed, his arms still around me protectively.
"You better give me a good explanation." I said angrily, unknowingly relaxing into his arms. It's actually quite comfortable.
"Hmm, later." His voice was barely audible, I could hear the sleeplessness in his voice.
I stuffed a yawn and my eyelids dropped. Soon I fell into a deep sleep, aware of his arms that were still around me. Not bothered by it at all.
The cold air hit me as soon as I was awoke. Where is my blanket?
I shivered, then I felt something warm on the other side of my bed. Without opening my eyes, I scooted towards it. Snuggling into it, I happily sighed and started to fall asleep again, until I felt it moved.
My eyes shot wide open and right in front of me was a shirtless, wide eyes Asher staring right back at me.
His blue eyes were warm and open, so different from last week's icy eyes. His cheeks grew red when he noticed that I had caught him staring at me. His arms were around me and we were so close, I could feel his bare chest rising and falling, really quickly.
I let out a small screamed and pushed him off my bed.
"Ow. What was that for?" He groaned painfully, slowly getting up from the ground.
"What are you doing here?" I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to slow down my racing heart.
"You were the one who brought me over!" He exclaimed.
I stared at him blankly, and the memories came back. Oh.
"Oh." I repeated my thought.
Awkward tension filled the room as we stared at each other, unsure of what to do or react.
"I should leave... before-before your parents find out." He stuttered, as if he was still drunk.
"My parents are away for the weekend." I blurted out suddenly. Why did I say that? Do I want him to stay?
Maybe.
"Oh." He froze midway in leaving my room, finally with his shirt on.
He glanced around nervously as I stared at him blankly, trying to figure out what to do.
"Let's go downstairs and eat breakfast." I suggested, I hopped off my bed and walked slowly towards my door, trying to act normal and not freak out.
It startled Asher a bit, he jumped up and nodded at my direction then went out of my room, with me following closely behind.
"What will you like to have?" I asked him as he sat on the kitchen island table.
"Uh anything is fine." He croaked out, then cleared his throat.
"Here." I said after a few moments, handing him the special tea that would cure a wicked hangover headache.
He took a small sip, then a big gulp and soon finished it within a minute. "This is good." He said with a surprised tone, "and my head no longer spin."
"Yes, this is a special tea that will cure any hangover." I explained to him.
"Oh, thank you."
"Your welcome."
Silence filled the room as I made as breakfast.
"Syrup?" I asked him as I handed him a stack of pancakes.
"Yes please." He answered politely. I was a bit taken back.
We ate our breakfast in silence, it was as awkward as it could be. I had no idea how to start a conversation. It had never been like this. I held back a sigh. I hated awkward situations, it made me overthink.
After we finished, we put our dirty plates in the sink. I was too lazy to wash them now.
"I should probably leave." He said as he started to head for the door.
"Oh no you don't." I turned towards him and glared at him, "I deserve an explanation."
He stopped, I could see him tensed up, he turned around and faced me. His facade was back on, rid of any emotions.
I strode towards him, an angry scowl on my face. I stared right into his eyes that seemed blank and cold. Oh no you don't get to hide.
"This facade is not going to work, tell me the truth, it's the least that I deserve." I demanded.
Studying him closely, he seemed to be struggling to find his voice, his eyes swirling with emotions, frustration, anger, longing, and a lot more that I couldn't interpret.
Finally after battling with himself, his facade dropped, he slumped down and I could tell that he was giving up, his facade slipping away slowly, revealing such a vulnerable look that I felt liked I shouldn't have seen.
"I am sorry." He whispered, those three little words, with so much meaning, yet too overused.
"You said that already, twice, last night." I spat out, more venomous than I intended.
"I know."
"You still haven't explain yourself." I crossed my arms over my chest, softening my tone with great effort.
"I don't know how to!" He bursted out, startling me, his face red with anger, "looking back, it was stupid, a stupid decision really, I have no idea why I would do such things." He let out a humorless laugh.
"Maybe because I was used to it? I really don't know, that was who I was- am." He continued on.
Not able to hold myself back, I interrupted him, "I just don't get one thing, why, why would you suddenly just leave me like that?"
"I-I was going back to my old ways, I-I don't know, maybe I was trying to prove myself."
"Prove yourself to who?"
"My brother." So much longing and sadness were in such a simple word.
"Why would you need to do that?" I asked confusedly.
"So-so he would finally be able to look at me without hatred." He sounded so broken, hopeless.
"Why would he hate you?"
"I killed our mother," he whispered.
I could not process it, what did he meant by that?
Seeing the confused expression on my face, he explained, "My brother blames me. Our mother died giving birth to me and my brother blames her death on me. He despises my existence, our father, he- he doesn't care about anything since mother had died."
"You can't really believe that your mother's death is your fault." I said incredulously.
"If she wasn't pregnant with me she won't be dead and my brother won't be like this."
"You didn't make her pregnant! You didn't asked to be born! How is that your fault?"
"You didn't see the look my brother gives me every day, and my father can't even look at me!" He shouted at me, his fists tightly clenched together besides him.
I had read countless stories about situations like this and yet I didn't know what to do when it actually happened. How do you explain to someone that for their whole life they believed that it's their fault? With no love, no one there for them.
"But it really isn't your fault!" I said frustratingly, not knowing how to explain it to him.
"Then why did everyone treated like it is mine?"
"I didn't." I said automatically.
"You didn't even know."
"I do."
"Yeah, like, just now." He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, and I didn't blame you."
"You don't count."
I let out a frustrating groan.
"I guess I'm just going to leave now." He said, trying to escape this awkward situation.
I let him; he went through the door, not looking back, the door shut quietly. And I was left alone with my thought. With more questions than ever.