Amidst Crimson Kisses

Chapter Twelve: A Transcending Encounter

Margo's POV

Asher was a catalyst as he crashed into Goulding Manor with piercing blue eyes that fermented behind my chamber door. I couldn't resist a silent glance as I unfastened the door, and watched him ascend the staircase. At first, he was calmly as he occupied the lavish halls of Goulding Manor. Then my heart dropped inside my chest as he took small steps until he reached a room adjacent to mine. I watched when Gwendolyn left hours ago, sending Asher to sleep in the rubble of his past as he settled down for one empty moment, then afterward, he was the only person that separated me from my slumber.

I didn't know how to react as he shut the door and walked back in time through Juliet's bedroom. I smiled as he touched the same encrusted edges of the vanity mirror I embraced in my fingertips. A flood of despair echoed inside my chest as I realized strange objects we both happened to grasp would never be enough to quench the thirst of my soul. I forced my eyes shut as Asher stepped in front of the veil with a blank stare inhabiting his countenance while my breath hitched in my esophagus. I glanced at Asher as he caressed the hem of the curtain, inhaling the fabric until he slowly raised it above his head.

I laid on the mattress, gazing at the intricate Persian blue curtains that dangled from the crown of the bed and meshed over his platinum hair. The silk concealed the trembling beat of my heart as the canopy bed imprisoned the many fallacies of my mind. I gasped as the jagged edges of his voice seized my inner thighs and quivered in my eardrum. I toss and turn while the last twelve hours reply in a haze of somber. I captured my tongue as he stepped underneath the drape, exhaling while he beheld a facade impersonating a beautiful daydream.

I heard it clearly as Asher tethered over my body like he never once fondled loose strands of gold. It was crazy, but my heartbeat abated when he refused to touch me. I wanted him to raise my chin with his index finger, staring madly at my eyelashes as I opened my eyes, and his thumb caressed my cheek. How do I explain the way my body craves the mercy of his embrace in words my mind might understand? The chamber door next to mine opened as a ball of light radiated beyond the threshold while Asher quietly exited, leaving me hypnotized in his conduct.

I push myself off the contorting mattress, realizing the strange whisper he muttered over my figure as my hair concealed my face. At first, I didn't notice until my memories awoken in the shards of Asher's smile. It was a harrowing attraction, and I can't stop wondering thoughts from gnawing at my insides. Whenever I'm around Asher, I can't think straight, but I still remember the blow of his words. I recall it because even now I never thought Asher would mistake me for the girl he told me he'll always love.

"Margo, are you awake?" Gwendolyn asks, opening the door. "I need to discuss something with you."

I step through the veil, pondering the minute Asher stole a glance right before he disappeared again. Although, in the reigns of my heart, he never left as he took a seat in my deteriorating memories, shining a light on the glimpses of him encompassed in a sea of people. I barely remember Asher as my mind reiterates lost seconds, and for a minute, I was starting to take my mother's death one day at a time. She wouldn't want me trembling on the floor of some woman's office, and no matter how hard I try to focus on our time together, I think of her death. Then there's Asher, who throws a smile, and suddenly my heartache melts into his strong arms as we fall into a place where time floated around us.

"I'm awake, Gwendolyn," I say, holding my breath as my mind wanders. "What do you want to talk about? I was just about to get up and walk outside anyway."

"Actually," Gwendolyn begins, "what do you plan on wearing outside or even to Rosewood? Do you even have a week's worth of clothes in that trash bag?"

"I have enough to last a few days," I mutter, shuddering at the thought of Asher seeing me again in my same ancient clothes. "I think I'll manage."

My mother's voice echoes in my head as she proclaims, "Don't make a mountain out of a molehill. Baby, clothes don't make a woman anything except broke, you understand?" I comprehended the compromise I had to live with, but I never grasped the concept of natural beauty. It's something I didn't often deliberate on, considering I'm not worth Asher's attention. I would always have to adjust to someone more opposing to my nature so Asher could finally fawn over me.