Love Has a Color

Candlelit

Hair up? No, down. Maybe half up? Maybe just shave it off. "God, why is this so difficult?!" I complain to myself. I slap the hair brush back onto the bathroom counter and stare back at myself in the mirror. I see Asher every day, why is this so difficult? What the hell does it matter what my hair looks like, he's literally seen me in every possible state. Scarlett, throw it in a pony tail and just get over it!

I sigh and flip my head over, my hair hanging down loosely. I run my fingers through the hair and use some mousse to tame the frizzy pieces sticking out. I flip the hair back, blinking the stars out of my eyes from standing up so suddenly, and check the mirror again. Meh, good enough.

I quickly check my phone for the time and see that its nearing 6:30, which means I only have a few minutes to pick out and outfit and go. I decide on something simple, a pair of skinny jeans and a light gray sweater. I slip on some tennis shoes and take a peak in the mirror one last time. Eventually deciding that I look good enough, I grab my purse from the bed, run downstairs, and head right out the door.

When I arrive at Asher's house, I can't help but notice the swarm of butterflies erupting in my stomach. What's wrong with me? I literally just saw him a few hours ago, and it's not like we haven't spent time together outside of work before. For some reason I just can't help myself from feeling nervous. I feel as if this is the first date I've ever been on. This isn't even my first date with Asher!

Upon further contemplation, it's probably because the only other time I've been to his house I woke up the next day half naked in his bed. Then, to make matters worse, neither of us could remember half the night. I really wish I could piece together even a few minutes of it, but I can't. And now, I can't think of anything else. There are so many possibilities running through my head about what could have happened, or what could happen tonight. Great, I already can hardly focus on anything when I see him, now I can't get his body out of my mind. Those stupid, washboard abs, his golden skin, the barely there freckles that cover his-

"Scar? You coming in?" Mm, yes, that velvety voice too. Oh, wait. I'm at the door.

I huff out a little nervous laugh, nodding and slipping past him. "Yeah!" Get it together, Scarlett!

I take a few steps inside, and before I know it I'm being spun around by Asher's strong arm around my waist. I flop right into his chest, our faces mere inches from each other. "You look amazing," he tells me.

I instantly look anywhere but his eyes, though I still feel their intensity on me. "I look even worse than normal."

He pulls me a bit closer, as if that were even possible, almost forcing my eyes back up to his. "Well, I think you always look good." He leans down to give me a kiss, almost feather light but enough to reignite the fire in my stomach that I was doing so good at controlling. "Especially when you've got clay smeared on your face and you're in fluffy sweatpants," he adds, quietly.

This grants him a slap on the chest and a scoff from my end. "Dork," I say, while trying to wriggle out of his arms.

He laughs and releases me, then simply saunters past and towards the kitchen. I still stand in the entry way, arms crossed and debating on whether or not I should follow him. Really, he had to comment on the sweatpants? Asher realizes I'm not behind him and peeks back around the corner at me. "If you follow me I promise it will be worth your while," he tells me. I simply raise an eyebrow and wait for his response. He laughs and adds "there's food in here," in a singsongy voice. Damn. Got me.

I enter the kitchen and take in the beautiful view of the dining area. At the table is two place settings, both with our beautifully plated meal and a glass of wine. In the middle there are a few candles and a dozen red roses for decoration. As I'm running over every little detail, I notice the lights dim slightly and classical music start playing softly throughout the room. "Wow," is all I can muster.

Asher chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to do something special. I uh, made chicken marsala. Mainly because it's the fanciest thing I know how to cook. But, I put some time into the set up. Nice ambience, huh?" He laughs nervously.

"Asher..." I can't seem to find the words to describe the feeling in my stomach right now, and just end up looking like a fish out of water.

"Too much?" He asks, inching towards me. "Or, not enough?"

I walk over to the table, taking a closer look at what's actually on the plates. "It smells so good. You made this?" I look over to Asher who just nods. I raise an eyebrow at him, then the food, then back to him. "And it's edible?"

This gets a chuckle out of him, and another small nod. "Yes, as far as I know."

"Asher this is amazing." Before thinking too much about it, I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist. I tuck my face into his chest and take in the warmth and familiar feeling of his scent. I can't remember a time someone's done anything like this for me. A time when I've let myself actually feel this happy.

I feel his arms wrap around me in response, and his soft lips place a small kiss on the top of my head. I pull back to look into his eyes, and his blue gaze meets my green for a moment. That's all it took. Look, I'm not saying I'm proud of it, it just happened so fast.

Neither of us even get a second to realize what we're doing before our lips are molded against each other and I'm being lifted onto the kitchen counter, items being pushed haphazardly out of the way. We both jump a bit at the crashing of utensils onto the floor, but not enough to disconnect our clashing tongues.

He pulls away for only a moment, before I feel his lips travel to my jaw. He kisses feverishly along my jawline, small nips along the way. I can't help but let out a small moan when I feel his tongue gently trail my ear lobe, then move down to my neck where the kissing and sucking continues. I grip his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull us closer. "Ash," I breath.

"Hm?" He hums against my neck.

"What about the food?"

He pulls away almost shocked at my interruption. "That's what you're thinking about right now?"

We look at each other for a moment, then I make the move back to his lips. Yeah, he's right. I've got something even more delicious right in front of me. One of my hands moves to lace my fingers through his already messy blonde locks, the other staying on his muscular shoulder. Asher moves his hands from my hips to the bottom of my sweater, slowly sliding them up and around to grab my hips. I gasp a bit at the chill from his hands against my skin, but sink into his touch regardless. "But, you worked so hard on all of this. We should at least enjoy it, right?" I manage to ask through each of our moans and labored breath as the situation gains momentum.

He stops, breathing hard, to pull back and look at me once again. "I would pick you over chicken any day," he says.

No one even blinks and we're back on each other. His lips are soft, yet intense against my own. His tongue moves expertly with mine, dancing together like experienced partners. I feel my arms move on instinct to wrap around his neck, trying to get our bodies as close as possible. This only encourages him to reach around my waist and pull my torso flush to his with a low groan. Damn.

He slips his hands down a little further, forcing my legs to stay wrapped around him while he grabs under my thighs. At first I'm a little confused, albeit I am quite distracted, but I quickly catch on to his plan. I hold on as he lifts me from the counter, never breaking the kiss. He blindly carries us to the living room where we flop together onto the couch. Then, well, let's just say tomorrow morning I will definitely remember why I'm waking up at Asher's house half naked.