Be like a book, people have to spend time with you to know you better.
-Sura

The movie was a blast, a action packed horror movie that made me smirk every time someone either got blown up or said some vulgar unprintable thing. 

Link enjoyed it as well.

Asher however, wasn't a fan and physically recoiled every time something went up in flames or someone got into a bloody fight.

I didn't judge him, or say anything about it, but I practically invited myself over afterwards to make sure he's okay.

And now I know I made the right call.

Because at roughly three am I hear something shatter in his room.

My feet carry me to the sound and I barge right into his room, not expecting his lamb to be suddenly thrown at my head.

I squeak and jerk to the side, making the lamb sail into the hall and the sound of it breaking to echo through his apartment.

"Whoa." I breath, having come face to face with a shirtless Asher.

And he does have scars.

Not as much as me, by far, but enough.

Just self-harm (I assume) lines on his right wrist- -since he's left handed- -and cigarette burns on both with a single, jagged line going down his side.

His breath is coming in hard, and I tear my eyes away from his skin to respectfully look to his eyes and I won't look back down again.

I've already seen too much without consent.

"What-"

"Don't you dare ask me what happened!" He yells, snapping almost instantly. "Why the fuck would you even look?"

"Oh you're one to talk." I snort, crossing my arms.

"What does that mean?" Asher asks darkly, standing to his full, intimidating height again.

He's no longer the nice guy -but then again, I was never nice.

"You want to know what that means?" My voice wavers and I step closer to him, glaring at him with my sharp teeth flashing. "Let me ask you something."

"Go right the fuck ahead, since you obvious don't care what you barge into." He snarls, surprising me. The golden boy just snarled. At me.

"Why is it that when you panicked so bad that you took a shower with all your clothes on, when you had to press an ice pack into the scar on your neck that I know is from something burning into your skin, that when I skipped my medicine for you, when I didn't sleep so you could, when I snapped you out of every bad memory that night I could ignore all the questions the next day but you couldn't stop fucking staring at my arms?" I ask, tears wielding in my eyes. 

"How come I didn't change my opinion on you, how come I didn't ask you. How come I didn't treat you differently. How come I was able to show everyone how flawed I am for you but you can't do the same. Why couldn't you make me feel human? They're scars. They're just scars. They're not open flames, or needles." I snarl. "So what the fuck are you so afraid of that you can't just remember I'm human." 

Asher stays silent, so I continue, though I know I shouldn't I don't have much self control at the moment. 

"What scars do you have? What's it about heat that you don't like. Why can't you see flames. What you do remember when you had to reach in the oven? What is-" 

Before I can even finish my sentence, Asher grabs the wrist of the finger I had poking his torso in a tight, nearly painful grip. 

He backs me up to the wall, pressing our chests together. 

Then he leans down, placing his mouth by my ear. "Don't try to get into my head Eliza, it's not a good place for you," Asher whispers, somehow I managed to keep my smirk on despite the pain of him crushing my wrists to the wall. 

"I'll decide that." I sneer back, not willing to take any of his bullshit. "You think your mind is dark Gold, you haven't seen darkness. You haven't got it's eyes."

Golden boy loosens his grip, as if just realizing how tight it was, but he doesn't pull away from pressing into my body. "Yeah? And what does it's eyes look like?"

Mine meet mint green, and I grin, and his flash with something I can't, something I don't want to, place. 

"Blue."

"I'm sorry about last night...I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't hurt you did I?" Asher apologizes just as I sit down for lunch, I honestly didn't expect him to since we've spent the whole day in silence so far.

"Nope, you didn't." I lie. "And it's chill. We can all get a little messed up from time to time, and anger is placed where it isn't supposed to be."

"Did you sleep at all last night? After you left my room I mean." Asher asks, voice dripping in concern. 

I smirk a little, but it's obvious how tired I am when my lips barely twitched up. 

I haven't slept in three days, after Sunday things went down the drain. The medicine stopped working, but I think that's just because I'm stressed. 

"I know I look more zombie than human," I quip. "But I'm good."

"If you say so...where's Link?" Gold changes the subject, and this time I manage a grin which only makes his eyes narrow at me. "Why are you grinning?"

"Can't a girl be happy?"

"Sure, but you're flashing your canines like you just killed someone and got away with it." Asher says rather dryly. "What really happened?"

"Weasley tripped in the hallway on the way in." I sheepishly admit, just in time for our red headed friend to join us, eyes darkened in anger. "I was just talking about you, klutz."

"I'm sure you were." Lincoln says through a clenched jaw and I can see him grinding his teeth.

"You okay?" The nice guy asks. "After the fall and all."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't. You know what they say, the bigger you are the harder you fall. I'm pretty sure I could feel the shaking in my feet as you," I smack the table loudly. "Hit the ground."

"I fucking hate you." He seethes.

"You're not my favorite person today either." Gold tells me, I snicker at this all while my heart pounds. 

All because I stole his blue skittles in Home Ed. when he was still ignoring me, and now still has half a packet of the cherry skittles left in his hands.

"I'm not your favorite person anyway," I replied with a shrug. "Don't worry, I'll try not to take this personally." 

Asher pouts down at his red and orange skittles, glancing at me in distaste. 

"You should take it personally," He grumbles, popping them in his mouth. "Very, very personally." 

"I'm wounded," I say, once again ending the conversation by looking down at a book.

They quietly converse, and the bell rings shortly after. 

Asher shoots me a look when I throw away my uneaten lunch tray, but I shrug it off.

Now we're in, wait for this bullshit, gym and before I know it I find it very hard to stay awake. 

"I'm tired." I groan, smacking my head into Asher's chest only to regret it. "Ow! The fuck you have under there, rocks?" 

My growl is cut short by his laughter and a hand on my lower back. 

"Calm down Blue, what do you want?" 

"Well unless you want me to start playing with knives or throwing shoes I need a smile and a hug, seeing as you're already smiling..." I trail off, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

His large arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me straight into his ice. My own slide around his waist and press us even closer, making him chuckle. "You're really tired, aren't you?" 

"...can I just hug you for a little while?" I ask, hesitating at first and not about to answer. It was rhetorical anyway, the real answer is obvious.

At this point the bags under my eyes can be considered designer.

My crush doesn't visibly answer me, just buries me deeper into him and leans against the fence. 

It's times like this I'm thankful I can't blush easily.

"Aw, look at that. The bitch and her freak got together." Mason's eerily familiar voice sneers from behind me.

I tense and swing around, and even though everything's slightly blurry and I feel like passing out he doesn't know that and I don't let it show through my smirk. 

"Yeah, me and my inner bitch are really having a party." I say, not letting him insult Asher, who's hands are now left loosely hanging around my waist. "No crashers aloud."

"With you the party gifts would be razors and prescription bottles, so it's not like I'd come anyway." He insults me back.

"You pronounced vodka and diet coke wrong." 

"Go kill yourself." Mason spits.

I raise a unimpressed eyebrow, "And why would I do that?"

"You don't belong."

"Who does?" I snap. "Because nobody will fit everywhere, that includes you and it's not like I seeing you finish the job."

"Crazy runs in your family, I wouldn't be surprised if you wen't ballistic like you did five years ago or let someone die like-"

"If you say his name," I growl, standing rigid in regards to my brother. "Then you're the one that will be dead."

Mason's brother and mine were at a party, our families have always gotten along thanks to his dad, Carter Dallas, but something went wrong. One of Harry's- -that's the brother- -ex girlfriends were drunk and high and got so upset that she stabbed him in the middle of the kitchen. Not a lot of people noticed until it was too late, but Alexander was instantly at his side and tried to help in any way he could. But he wasn't trained for these things and when the ambulance had arrived it had been too late.

Xander witnessed his first dead, a murder none the less and got the blood on him head to toe while Mason lost a brother.

That's why Mason despises my family now -because he thinks in some twisted way it's my brother's fault his got killed.

It's no one's but the girl with a knife.

"What are you gonna do?" Mason snarls back. "Let a Wolf kill another Dallas. Fitting, isn't it."

I struggle against Asher's now vice like grip, unable to even move and inch and that's before he picked me up and traps me against his chest.

All while I glare at Mason.

"Let me kill him!" I growl, slapping his arm.

"No."

"Just a little?" At this point I've resorted to whining. "Hey! He's getting away." I point out, watching as the stupid jock got tired of spouting bullshit to us and simply walked away.

"Let him get away." Gold speaks so close to my ear that I shiver, goosebumps blooming on my skin. "He's not worth the murder charges."

I snort, still struggling but he's too strong. "I wouldn't get caught."

"I'm not risking it, calm down Munchkin."

"I'm not a munchkin!"

"You're mine." Instantly I still, snapping my head up to him. "So chill."

"I hate you." I mutter crossly and stop struggling so he'll put me back on my own two feet.

"If that were true I think we'd be in a entirely different situation right now. You'd have broken my wrist the second I held onto you too long. And I think I'm right to think that." The nice guys says, looking down at me with a soft smile. "Aren't I?"

I refuse to answer.