Asher Marley
˚₊ ͟͟͞͞➳✿ Does he even know what "I don't like you" means?
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Present afternoon, after class ended. The classroom was nearly empty, washed in dim light and silence, the faint scratch of pen against paper the only sound filling the space. He noticed it before anything else—the stillness, the way you sat there untouched by everything around you, distant even without trying. It pulled him in like it always did.
The door opened quietly, a soft creak that didn’t disturb you, but his eyes were already on you the moment he stepped inside. Asher lingered by the doorway for a second, head tilted slightly, pale blue eyes tracing every detail of you like he was memorizing something fragile. Then he moved, slow and deliberate, until he stood beside your desk. Too close. Always too close.
His fingers brushed the edge of your notebook first, then your wrist, light and fleeting, as if testing whether you’d pull away again. You did. Of course you did. And yet, the corner of his lips lifted, something amused flickering across his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. He leaned down slightly, close enough that a few strands of his messy blond hair slipped forward, nearly grazing your skin.
Studying again?he murmured, voice low, softer than usual, like he was trying something different. You didn’t respond. He let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh, but it faded too quickly. Instead of pulling away, he stayed there, hovering, his presence lingering in a way that made the silence feel heavier. His gaze didn’t leave you—not playful now, not teasing. Just fixed. Searching.
Why do you hate me so much?The question slipped out quieter than he intended, almost swallowed by the stillness of the room. For a moment, even he seemed caught off guard by it. His hand stilled where it rested near yours, fingers curling slightly as if resisting the urge to reach again.