Love Has a Color

Idiots

After some time of awkward glances and agonizing silence while we ate, I finally muster up the courage to look at Asher. "So...we should talk?" I ask, more than say, questioning my decision to speak the moment my mouth opens.

He chuckles shyly, scratching at the back of his neck. "Probably."

I set the container of rice on the side table, crossing my legs to sit up a little straighter. Asher scoots forward on his bed, as if waiting for me to say something first. I was hoping he'd initiate the conversation, because what the hell do I say? Where do I start? So much, yet so little, has happened between us in so little time that my thoughts are running rampant. I want to tell him how I feel about him, but I'm afraid he won't reciprocate. Though, he did just kiss me life his life depended on it. But, what if that was it? What if that was all he wanted, or if that's all he will want? I just don't see how anyone, especially someone like him, could ever want me in any way. So, maybe I won't tell him. I guess I could just start with the obvious, apologizing for tonight with his family, and just wait to see if he mentions anything else. Yes, that's good just keep not talking about the things you need to talk about. That's clearly been working wonders!

We look at each other expectantly for a moment before both of us move to speak at the same time. "I'm sorry." We both stop, then start speaking together again. "You first," we say. Each of us lets out an awkward chuckle. I don't know why it feels so weird trying to talk to him right now, but it does. I feel almost as if we'd just met for some blind date, not like we see each other every day or like I know half his life story.

"Scarlett," he says. I wait for more, but he just stops.

"Why are you sorry?" I decide to ask, perplexed at his apology.

"You first," he says.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms, to show my annoyance with the fact that he won't talk. That gets me nothing, so I decide to start with the simplest answer. "I'm sorry for everything I said tonight, Ash. I should have kept my mouth shut." I am truly sorry for the way I acted tonight, but I don't think my comments were unwarranted. Though, I feel they may have been more welcomed by Asher or anyone else, granted probably not his father, if I weren't literally just meeting them for the first time.

"No, you shouldn't have. I should have had the guts to say something, and I didn't. Not just for my brother, but for you too. He does not have the right to say anything about you or your father, and I am so sorry you had to hear it. I'm sorry it took you having to get up and leave for me to stick up for you two, and I'm sorry that-"

"Wait, you said something to him?" I ask, highly curious as to what was said. He just nods. "What did you say?"

"It doesn't matter. The point is that I shouldn't have sat there letting him attack Ashton, or you, like that. I'm glad you said what you did, Scarlett. And, for the record, so is Ashton." That part surprised me more than it should have. I know I saw that grin on his brother's face when I spoke at dinner, but, I figured I probably just made things worse. "He said to ask if this Sawyer guy is real," he adds with a laugh.

"Yeah, he's real. My older brother," I inform, shaking my head and letting the smile creep onto my face.

We let the words we've each just shared settle for a while, the air growing more and more tense with each passing second. My heart starts beating faster, my palms growing sweaty as I run the next thing I want to tell him through my mind. It feels like the room is caving in on me, the weight of my nerves crushing me down and growing around me. "I, I have something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Me too," he says.

"Can you? Um, go first," I mumble.

I find the courage to look up at him, but find myself trying to stray from his face, his eyes. I give in only when I hear the nerves in his voice. Good, at least I'm not the only one mildly freaking out here. "There's something I've been wanting to say for a while, now. I think maybe that kiss? You know, maybe it helped say a little bit? I don't know. I've been replaying how I would say this over and over in my mind, but, now it seems like I can't find the words? I just sound like an idiot."

"I like you Asher," I blurt out, really wishing I could just do that thing where I shut up and never speak again.

"I guess those words work," he chuckles.

Then, no matter how hard I try to stop it, my brain goes into damage control mode and the words just start spilling out. "Look, I know you said that you only think of us as friends. But, sometimes, like especially about twenty minutes ago, I get the feeling that maybe you think of me as more than that? Then sometimes I feel like you think of me as less than that, not that it matters because no matter what you say to me I get all jittery and weird and I can't think straight and I convince myself you'll never want me. Then, I wake up in your bed one morning and things get weird and we never really talk about it and I think it made things weirder and I just keep thinking to myself about what I need to say to you, but I don't because I'm an idiot too and apparently I think that sitting here in silence is-"

"Scarlett, stop," Asher interrupts, stopping the quick jumble of words flowing from my mouth. I hadn't even noticed him make his way over to me, that is, until I realized his hands were covering mine. Suddenly, I feel a little braver. I look into the eyes that were just turning me into a puddle only a moment ago, finding the comfort I've been needing. He moves his hand to caress my cheek, warmth radiating through my entire body yet goosebumps covering my arms. He slowly leans in, placing a soft kiss on my forehead before leaning against it. "For the record, you were the one who said we were just friends," he murmurs.

I pull away, giving him a good glare. "For the record, I wasn't the one who said that."

"Right, you said 'drunken mistake?'" Oh, yeah. Yikes.

"Okay, I might've said that. But, only because you're so confusing. You were pissed off about even having to be in the same room as me, like a week before that," I try to defend myself.

"Alright, so maybe I wasn't completely open to the idea of sharing my office, or, my job. Especially when  Sarah hadn't prepared me for who I would be working with, and I made a fool out of myself in front of you. Who, by the way, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about since you threw those drinks at me."

"Why didn't you say anything before? And, you ran into me!"

"You were the one running, and not looking where you were going, so technically you ran into me," he teases.

"Oh whatever, just answer my question."

Asher stands up, falling back onto his bed. He just shrugs his shoulders. I raise my eyebrows at him and motion for him to speak. "I was scared, Scar." What? "I had just gotten out of a really bad relationship. I just...I wasn't ready to put myself out there again. Honestly, I wasn't planning on doing it ever again. Then you were, quite literally, thrown into my life. At first I thought I would just get over it, like it was just some little crush. I convinced myself that I was just hung up on your beauty, and when that started working, you started talking."

"And I haven't figured out how to stop talking," I mumble, enticing a chuckle from Asher.

"No, you haven't, but that's one of the things I find most endearing about you." He smiles, shaking his head as I roll my eyes in response to his comment. "Look, Scarlett, I don't really know how to explain myself I just hope you can forgive the way I've been acting. I know I've been weird, and confusing, and probably an asshole at times, but, I really do care about you. And, yeah, I'm pretty interested in you. Can we maybe start over?"

"Yeah, that sounds great," I agree.

He exhales deeply, smiling to himself as if he were expecting a different response. "So, how does dinner sound?"

"It sounds like we have yet to have a night together where something didn't go wrong," I say, only half joking.

"Good point. How about a lunch date?"

I laugh and nod, almost too eagerly at his proposition. "Lunch it is."