LOGINLeonard's pov"We can be friends."The words hung in the quiet space between us. I remained completely still, my eyes fixed on Asher's face. He spoke with such casual ease, as if forming a bond with another person required nothing more than a simple declaration. How could he look at a near stranger and offer a piece of himself so carelessly? For me, every interaction carried a calculated weight, a purpose, a boundary. To him, it seemed as natural as breathing.I stared, the silence stretching long enough that the reassurance in his eyes began to falter. The soft curve of his lips slowly leveled out, and his fingers rose to scratch the back of his neck, his gaze shifting uncomfortably toward the grass.The heavy thud of footsteps broke the tension. Marcus appeared at my side, "Young master, the schedule is tight. It is time to leave."I looked past Marcus, my eyes finding Asher again. A small, forced smile touched his lips this time, an awkward, tight expression that hadn't been
Asher's pov.I stepped out of the cab right in front of my house, paying the driver before rushing through the front door. Leonard's heavy suit jacket was clutched tightly in my hands, still smelling faintly of his cologne. I let out a quiet breath of relief when I saw the living room was empty. No one was downstairs to question me.I hurried up the stairs, but just as I reached the landing, the door to my sister's room swung open. Ava stepped out.We briefly locked eyes, neither of us saying anything as we went to pass each other in the narrow hallway. But then, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, her eyes dropping to my hands."I haven't seen that jacket before," Ava said, narrowing her eyes at the dark fabric."It's not mine," I said, keeping my grip tight on it."I was wondering," she murmured, leaning closer to inspect the material. "That looks way too expensive to belong to you.""It's for a friend," I muttered, shifting past her."What friend?" She asked, turning around to fo
Asher's pov.After the brief chuckle, the room fell quiet again. Leonard turned his head back to the window, his expression flattening out into that familiar, unreadable mask as he stared at the traffic outside.I leaned down and unzipped my backpack, pulling out my black sketchbook. I placed it onto the wooden surface and slid it gently across the table, stopping it right in front of him.The motion made Leonard look up from the window."The last time we talked," I said, rubbing the back of my neck, "I mentioned I’d show you some more of my drawings the next time we ran into each other."Leonard’s eyes moved from my face down to the heavy paper cover. He didn't say anything, but he reached out and flipped the book open. His long fingers turned the pages slowly, his eyes tracking the dark pencil lines of various structures and facial studies.He stopped on a page near the middle. It was a detailed sketch of an old man sitting alone on a wooden park bench. A folded newspaper sat on
Asher's pov.I lay flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling as I held the silver bracelet directly above my face. The metal was cool against my skin, catching the dull light filtering through my bedroom window. A nagging knot twisted in my stomach. Was I being completely selfish? I had the perfect opportunity to just hand it over to Leonard at the café, yet I had frozen and kept it hidden away in my bag.I shook my head, trying to clear the guilt. No, I had made the right call. With that cranky bodyguard staring holes through me, pulling it out after lying about it before would have looked incredibly suspicious.My thoughts drifted back to the moment Leonard's mask had slipped. The second Marcus mentioned his brother, Leonard's face had gone completely pale, his eyes fluttering with a sudden, hidden panic. Why had he reacted like that? Whenever I think about my sisters, all I felt was annoyance.Was it even possible to be genuinely scared of your own sibling?I looked back down
Leonard's pov.The city moved past the window in long, wet streaks.I wasn't seeing any of it.My eyes were fixed on the glass but my mind was somewhere else entirely, turning the same question over and over without arriving anywhere useful. Liam never called me to his office without a reason. There was always a reason. There was always something I had done or failed to do or should have anticipated, and the fact that I couldn't identify what it was this time made the not knowing worse than the knowing would have been.I kept my hands still in my lap and my expression neutral and told myself there was nothing to be nervous about."Why did you allow that boy to stay at the café, young master?"Marcus’s voice broke the quiet. He was watching me through the rearview mirror, his hands tight on the steering wheel.I kept my face completely blank. "I just didn't want to create a scene.""If you want," Marcus said, his tone dropping into a low, protective cadence, "I can make sure he doesn'
Asher's pov.I swallowed hard, my throat feeling completely dry as Leonard’s gaze remained locked onto mine. The silence between us stretched until it felt almost suffocating. Slowly, his dark eyes moved away from my face, shifting back down to trace the charcoal lines on the paper.I let out a nervous, airy chuckle, shifting slightly in my chair. "It's... uh, it's good to see you again."Leonard didn’t answer. He just kept staring at the drawing book, his expression completely unreadable. The awkwardness settled between us again. My fingers twitched against the edge of the table. I needed to say something, anything, to break the tension."I was just... drawing the view outside," I blurted out.Leonard’s head tilted slightly. "The view?" his low baritone repeated. He turned his head slowly, his eyes scanning the glass window and the wet street beyond it."Are you here to get coffee?" I asked, trying to sound casual. I gestured vaguely to the empty chair across from me. "You can si
Asher's pov.The red ink at the top of the paper felt like a slap in the face. I stared down at the terrible grade on my quiz, the numbers blurring together as I gripped the edges of the page until the corners crumpled in my hands.It was a total mess. During the whole test, my mind wasn't on the e
Asher's pov.The professor’s voice faded into the background, mixing with the scratching of pens against paper.Everyone around me was hunched over their desks, desperate to capture every word. I leaned back, my own notebook open, but my pen wasn't tracing chemical bonds or reaction formulas.Inste
Leonard's pov.The evening air hit me as I stepped out of the gallery, heavier than I expected. I walked down the marble stairs, my shoes clicking against the stone. The staircase stretched endlessly beneath me, polished marble designed to make people feel insignificant before they even stepped in
Asher's POVThe gallery was a cathedral of hushed whispers and polished concrete. Cool, sterile air brushed against my skin, carrying the faint, sharp scent of floor wax and expensive perfume. People moved in slow, deliberate patterns, their gazes glued to the canvases as if searching for a secret







