The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid. 
-Jane Austen

"Wait!" Xander screams. "I think Celeste is trying to call me."

Because he froze, with the ball at his feet, I quickly flip it up and over his head, dash around him and smash my foot into the ball making it go in the net. 

"That's twenty!" I shout. "Winning point goes to me."

"Hey, dumbass." My brother insults me. "I said wait."

"Hey, dumbass." I mimic him. "You have to say pause. We've been through this for years, ya' have to say pause." 

Alexander pouts but turns away to answer it, I huff a patiently wait for to finish his call -not expecting him to turn towards me with a mischievous smile. "We're going to a party."

I grin.

"You sure you're gonna wear that?" Celeste pouts at me. I roll my eyes and nod. "But it's so ugly!" She yells.

Wincing at the loud shriek sudden in my eyes I glare at her. "You're an idiot, yes I'm wearing this. Fuck off."

Apparently Celeste annoys me like Aunt Jess annoys Dad -very much, but we love them every way.

"So rude." She huffs. "Aren't you?"

"Sure." I agree.

Then I plug in my headphones, and become ignorant of my surroundings. 

Sometimes I find too much noise is more peaceful than silence, if you're consumed by your own thoughts anyway.

"First time I've seen you at a party." A boy slides in front of me, a ugly smirk on his face and a cigarette between his fingers.

I try not to flinch at the sight.

The whole party is boring, but maybe this might distract me a bit.

"I'd say the same to you, but that'd only be if I actually want to talk to you." I reply. "So I won't."

His smirk only grows. "And what do they call you?"

"Super-Cali-Swagilistic-Sexy-Hella-Dopeness." I answer smugly, smirking right back at him. "But you can call me Diabla."

"Diabla?" He repeats, looking puzzled.

"Devil was already taken." I say, grinning in a way that shows him my much too sharp teeth. "And what do they call you?"

"James Keller." 

I snort, "That's unfortunate."

He steps closer to me, I step back, forgetting I'm already practically leaning against a wall.  Panic blooms in my chest but I don't let it show.

"How so?" He breathes, stinky, smoky breath going over my face.

I can feel the heat of the cigarette across my skin as his hand brushes my cheek, so I glare at him with a growl. "Don't fucking touch me." I snarl.

James only moves closer, his other hand pressing painfully into my diaphragm so my body is forced rigid against the wall.

I am small, smaller then the average person.

Now I may have my mom's much too obvious curves but I am only 5'1, and weigh little over a hundred pounds. 

My entire frame is petite.

With the right leverage, if I'm in a position where my arms are stuck, anyone can take advantage.

It makes me terrified.

And the smoke makes flashbacks hit me like a train.

I didn't realize I started screaming until his hand is over my mouth and his knee is driven into my stomach. I gasp, doubling over.

"You'll come with me, quietly, if you know what's good for you." His other hand comes down to my waist and squeezes, hard, covering it completely. "It won't take that long, I'll be gentle with your-"

I bit down on his hand, hard. James drops his hold on me but I'm not finished. My knee slams into his dick as repayment, but he only squeezes harder -I groan and struggle against him.

This fucking prick stands again, clamping my wrists down and slamming me back into the wall. James snatching a half filled bottle from a near by table, I watch in horror as he pours something into it openly.

"Let me go!" I shout, then actually scream as the hand with the cigarette flies to my chin.

He forces the drink down my throat, not caring about my choking.

Not again.

I stay struggling until my eyes haze over, but thankfully I'm naturally resistant to drugs, so I still have a nearly full use of my limps -but he doesn't need to know that and takes my drooping head as a green light to begin dragging me away.

Keeping my eyes out for Xander, or even Celeste, I am shocked when I catch a pair of shoes with gold rims.

That's my gold.

"ASHER." I scream his name at the top of my lungs, and see his huge body turn towards me.

"Blue," I hear him call me, the hand on my waist loosens. "Who's the guy?" 

"Get off of me!" I yell, and I realize as I struggle that maybe these drugs were stronger then I thought. "Gold-" 

The guy, James, shoots off me before I can finish my sentence and I am left to collapse into my crushes's arms.

"You hurt?" He asks, pulling me to stand in front of him, thumb touching my cheek where I got back handed by him. 

I frown. "No, I normally spurt random amounts of blood from my head."

"Are you drunk?"

"Yes." I grit out, not willing to tell him what just happened. Not willing to make him look at me differently yet again. "Take me home."

In my drugged state, I end up glaring at Asher's chest. 

"What is it?" He sighs, really not in the mood for any of my bullshit. 

"Your shirt," I say like that explains everything. 

Gold looks back down at it, frowning when he doesn't find anything. "What's wrong with it?" 

"It's still on you," I say, shrugging. 

"Even when you're drunk you're still meaninglessly flirting with me." He grumbles. I pull back, snatching my wrist from his grip. 

"I am not flirting with you! I just really don't like you wearing shirts all the goddamn time, and it's only meaningless if you don't -nevermind." I mutter, suddenly dejected. "Yeah, yeah it's meaningless. Can we go now Gold?" 

He stares at me as if he's trying to find something out before shaking his head. "Yeah, let's go." Then he grabs my wrist again, making me shiver at how good his cold skin feels against my overly warm body. 

"I like it when you touch me," I state. "You should do it more often, everywhere." 

He freezes, his whole body tensing so fast that I don't have time to prepare before my nose smacks into his back. 

I yelp loudly, crashing to the ground. 

My already bruised body cries out, but I ignore it. 

I can't let Gold know I'm hurt, he won't care and I don't want to actually know that -know he doesn't care enough not to treat me like a 6'8 alien with green skin. 

Like bitch, I'm not she-hulk.

"H-hey Gold..." I mumble, having to suddenly clutch onto the bottom of his shirt. "I really don't...feel-"

"Fuck," I whisper quietly, my head still pounding. 

My dad gave me quite the lecture while my mom reported the incident to the police after Asher dropped me off at home, after I passed out that is.

After skipping school yesterday I didn't sleep and it's near the end of the day which means the pain relievers Mom gave me are wearing off, and my migraine has come back full force. 

Despite this, I'm determined to act normal but then- 

"Do you still have a hangover or something?" Asher whispers in my ear, now standing right behind me. 

I realize that since we're in Home Ed. 

I was supposed to leveling out some flower but instead, I'm gripping the counter to keep myself upright. 

"Or something." I grit out. "Careful you might make me think you care about me." I expected him to shy away at this, blush maybe and walk away -not for his large hands to land on my waist. 

Instantly I cry out, knees buckling. 

He tears himself off me, so I collapse straight to the floor. I wish I got my Mom's pain tolerance levels. 

"Blue, blue what's wrong?" 

"Nothing," I lie, hand finding the counter again as I struggle to pull myself up. "Just give me a minute. I'm fine. I promise." 

"I told you before I can see through your lies, come on." He barely touches me, but the ice of his hands is enough to make me lean in the direction he wants once I'm standing. "We're going out in the hall." 

"What a shitty way to get me alone," I tell him, he shoots me a look for. "What?" 

"You chugged a third of alcohol right when I walked in," I wince, almost smiling at the fact he didn't know it was whiskey. "And everyone around you was too busy cheering and laughing to realize how empty you had to be in order to do it." 

"Heh, uh...yeah." I say. "So?"

"You didn't notice me, but then you left the room and I figured you were going home but then you screamed my name, and that guy looked like he was hurting you." Asher tells me, arms crossed. "What defines you? Because even when drunk you're not a different person. You don't show pain." He whispers the last sentence. 

"Nothing." I keep steady eye contact, even when he looks down. "A definition excludes the possibility for change." 

"Why would you want to change?"

I throw a grin at him, "Why would I not?"

"Well," He coughs. "I quite like who you are right now."

"Good for you." I said instead of admitting I don't like me.

"You're not leaving my side until you tell me what happened." He attempts to threaten me, but I simply wink at him, getting the point across that that won't bother me. At all. "Fine. I'll avoid you."

"If you avoid me how will I tell you what happened?" I ask, blinking innocently at him.

"You have my number." Gold says flatly, making me pout. "So, do you have anything to declare."

"Yes. I declare this is stupid." I growl. "I won't tell you, and if you avoid me that's on you but I don't see how this is any of your concern. Thank you for helping me, for driving me home and carrying me inside, but you don't get to know why you had to."

"But-"

"Don't challenge me right now Gold," I say, my voice dropping into that cold, monotone voice I use with strangers. "I didn't ask you why I had to give you my sweatshirt rather then you let yourself get hurt. You can't possibly expect me to share when you don't."

Asher's head drops, like he's suddenly ashamed and my heart clenches.

But once again he looks up with that same smile and a small shake of the head. "You're right. Sorry for demanding answers."

I silently let him past, my fingers twitching for a book.

"Wait," His large hand curls around my wrist, turning me to face him. I nearly flinch at the pain. "I wanted to, I wanted to see if you wanted to do something tonight?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning. "Like a baking thing?"

"Like a, um, like a movie thing. Link would be there so-"

"Okay."

"Okay?" He repeats, green eyes widening.

I narrow my own at him. "Yeah, what time?"

"I'm not sure yet, I-I'll pick you up." Asher stammers, then grins in that boyish way he does making my heart pound. "If that's alright."

"Seeing as we've only ever been on my bike I'd say that's chill, I know Link has a truck but I've never seen your ride." I shrug. "So yeah Gold, that's alright."

He breaths out, turning around again.

Asher's posture regains his height, his random nervousness put aside for now, and I realize something.

He's quiet, and large, and he knows his own strength and despite his kindness his entire form radiates confidence and power, even if I doubt he'd use it he still has it.

I wonder if he knows he looks like a king just then, hands in his pockets, head held high, mint green eyes dancing through the hall and back straight.

Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if someone handed him a crown.