Asher's Core
He was drunk—driven at high speed. His whole world was about to belong to someone else. He knew he wouldn't back off just because society said so. Nothing could stop him from claiming her. Yet it still hurt—so much. His heart bled in different notes.
Not by design, just by chance, he saw a shadow sulking under the rain. And he recognized her instantly. It was her—Emerald. Crying, beautifully broken beneath the clouds.
He watched her for a moment, then opened the car door to feel her warmth—the warmth he'd longed for.
"You say you don't want me… but every time, your heart keeps coming back to me," he tried to sound sober, to be strong for her—but he had passed that stage. And to think, he once prided himself on his alcohol tolerance.
"Let's just pretend," he whispered, "pretend you don't know my last name. Pretend my family didn't curse yours. Let's pretend we're just two people who were lucky enough to meet—just for today."
"We can pretend," she choked, "but my mother can never rise again… All because of…" Tears streaked endlessly down her cheeks.
He gently cupped her chin in his hand, kissing the tears that lingered.
"And if I wasn't?"
"If I wasn't cursed with the blood that hurt you… Would you let your heart love without retreat?" His voice cracked, more vulnerable than ever.
"I didn't want this to hurt so much… I…" She stood still, crying in his arms.
"And it shouldn't. I'm sorry for the wine I've had to bear. But Emerald—don't hurt yourself in an attempt to hurt me."
"No. I must wed him. I must." Her eyes dulled with the weight of the words.
"Is that really what you want?" he asked.
"Because if you tell me you love him—then I will leave this place. Go far away. Away from you. Away from myself. I'll abandon everything for your joy."
"But that's not the case. You can deny it, but your tears… your flaws… your ache… your imperfectly perfect soul—they all complete the haunting in me. And I won't give up on that. I refuse to."
"Even if I wanted you, Asher… it wouldn't work. All my life I've lived for errands and expectations. I've never lived for myself. I've never danced just because I could breathe."
She looked down. She knew that if she looked into his eyes, he'd see every unsaid thought.
"Then live for me," he said gently, tilting her chin up again.
"Not because you want to see another day—but because every time you wake, I'll be a part of it. Live for me… as I would gladly die for you."
"Emerald… it would be too ordinary to just say 'I love you.' You are the line my heartbeat traces when it forgets what steady feels like."
"You're not just someone I love. You are the reason I know what love means."
"Even if the world rips us apart—my soul and yours will still be together, somewhere in a quiet heaven."
He confessed everything—the thoughts, the grief, the pain, the agony… the longing. It was exhausting, this back and forth. He had always told her he loved her. But this time, he needed her to see it. Even if it would hurt. Even if it would end in heartbreak.
He looked into her eyes, waiting for her answer. He could see himself in her—the same feelings, the same rhythm, the same ache.
"I…" she began. "I…" Emerald searched for the right words. She swallowed hard, wiped her tears, trying to regain her stance.
She was supposed to turn him down immediately. But her heart—oh, her heart.
"I have alw—"
Just then, Simeon stepped from the shadows, as he always did.
Three souls stood on the road: one unsure, one determined, and one aching.
Asher stepped back, narrowing his gaze at the stranger.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Her betrothed," Simeon answered—unshaken, unapologetic.
Asher laughed. But it wasn't out of amusement. It was hollow. Disappointed.
"You're him?" "Sim… the son of Bru—" He tried to mock him, but in the middle of the sentence… he realized he didn't care to know who he was.