There are two people you'll meet in your life. One will run a finger down the index of who you are and jump straight to the parts of you that peak their interest. The other will take their time reading through every one of your chapters and maybe fold corners of you that inspired them most. You will meet these two people, it is a given. It's the third one that you'll never see coming. That one person who not only finishes your sentences, but keeps the book too.
-Inatoms

Asher traces small circles on the inside on my palm, looking serious.

He's trying to keep me entertained -Dr. Tate is ignoring the fact he's spending the night curled up with me. 

Nothing too bad has happened, I'm here for observations until tomorrow. The timing is perfect, since that's when the cafe me and Celeste go to are holding their annual singing competitions.

We aren't partners, not even close.

No, we're enemies and she's always mad because I'm offered the trophy but turn it down -making her take it home. It's a harder kick in the spiritual dick since she knows that's really mine, and now it's her second hand win.

I think I get this devious devilish behavior from my dad, you know, the Devil.

But this year it's special, because the school heard wind of this so all the choir kids will be there for extra credit. This will bring the jocks, wanting to see the fuss and get their victims.

And jocks means Mason, and Mason's where Celeste is and where Celeste is Alexander is. Mason and Xander always equal out to trouble, and I'm itching for a fight. Whether verbal, physical or in this case musical because I know Mason also defies the jock stereotype by singing at that cafe on open mic night. 

I've been offered jobs multiple times, I've won that award since I was thirteen. 

It's one of the things that got me comfortable in public again, something that helped me beat depression.

Singing.

Tsk.

"Can you really read palms?" I ask, slightly doubtful. 

"Yes." He says. I narrow my eyes at him, but he doesn't seem to notice. 

"What's my future then?"

Gold looks up and I swear his green eyes are brighter than ever before and he smiles wide, "Us. For as long as you want me."

Fighting down my blush I smirk at him, watching him squirm in the too-small chair. 

Link went home as soon as visiting hours were over, and though he acted like like "Holy shit finally, escape!" I know he was actually concerned for me, and practically made Dr. Tate put my heart monitor back on.

He's a softie.

"Well then be prepared, because it's going to be a fucking while before I give this up." I pause to think. "You might want to rethink that, make it your choice before you can't back out. I'm a possesive person but I'm a fucking mess. I'm going to be in and out of the hospital for the rest of my life..."

"I can get used to that." Asher says, voice quiet as we reduced them down to whispers. "I'm a mess too."

"We'll get clean together?"

"Definitely."

"Tell me something from your childhood. I don't care what. You never talk about it." I tell him, my fingers trailing down his hand, tracing every line. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah." Asher coughs out, thoughts choking him. I feel myself bristle at upset he became, but I know that if he really didn't want to talk he wouldn't. "I love it a lot, it was awesome. I don't even know why I don't talk about it, but thanks for asking Liza."

"You're welcome?" I hesitate to say this, because there was no real reason for him to thank me in the first place. But he's the nice guy so I just have to roll with it.

"Once my dad handed me a large class of milk, and because I was like eleven at the time and my older brother was the one that really liked milk I didn't know if it was for me or him," He had a brother? Fuck. I don't know why but that makes his past so much worse. "So of course I wanted to ask who it was for, but instead I looked down and asked, 'who's this?' and without missing a beat my dad said 'your new friend, Milk.' He paused and we sorta just stared at each other for a few seconds before he asked me if I was high, so then of course we laughed so hard that I spilled the milk. That just made me laugh harder. I spilled in my milk right after my dad did, landed right on him. That's when my brother walked in, sighed, said 'so that's what was taking so long. Have fun in the shower.' poured himself a glass of chocolate milk, then left."

I giggle at this, despite the new weight in my heart.

He must have lost so much.

And here I am, feeling bad for myself when I didn't lose a damn thing except blood.

"Sounds fun." I comment, absentmindedly moving my thumb over his jaw. "Tell me more."

The boyish grin that I love spreads over his lips, lighting up his features as mint green seems to consume me.

So we sat there talking for hours, me just listening to any story Asher thought worthy enough to share. 

I found out so many things -his mom's name was Amber, his dad's was Silas and the only reason he wasn't named Silas is because his mom thought that would be creepy. His brother was four years older than him, his name was Austin and just from how he talks I know Asher adored him. 

The golden boy is a momma's boy but loved his dad all the same, he had a cat named JC just so when people asked his dad what JC stood for he could respond with "Just Cat." 

He lost something special.

And that hurts.

But I did find out that I love watching Asher talk about things like this more than I like watching him in general -which I had found previously impossible. 

The boy reminds me of a cartoon character because of how animated he is, and the impossible way his eyes lightened. Though his deep voice is anything but squeaky, or childish, there holds a certain awe that few can achieve through simple measures such as talking.

Then again, right now I'm in awe of him.

Boyfriends.

Tsk.

By the time he finished it's around one in the morning and the nice guy is already pretty tired, head resting on my thighs as he speaks softly into my skin.

I'm thankful for my good hearing, because making out different words is already a challenge.

My hands are gently running through his hair, playing with the soft blond strands without conscious effort. It makes me feel bad because even though he's relaxed right now, he's also very uncomfortable because of the stupid hospital chairs.

"Come on Gold, you're bunking with me tonight." I tell him, moving a fingertip along his cheekbone.

Why is he so cute. 

And hot, and sexy, and adorable.

All somehow at the same time?

I don't know, nor can I possibly answer but it's fucking me up.

That and his tired voice, it's attractive to say the least, and that sucks because that means he's not in the mood to do anything.

Sexual frustration.

Tsk.

"What?" Asher groans, not helping my funk, lifting his head off my lap a bit. "No, you're in the hospital. What if I accidentally pull on your IV?"

"Then I'd say ouch and we'd move on, come on. Don't get in on my left side if that's what your worried about. But you owe me a smile or a hug, because I can tell you right now it's moderately entertaining to watch Creepy Henry try and figure out why his cleaning machine is suddenly and mysteriously shut off."

"You're a horrible girlfriend when it comes to threats." He says, but I can't deny the truth.

Apparently he had other ideas then me just moving over and him having the rest of the room, because I'm a small person and he's a big person and we can make that work, because the next thing I know I'm being lifted up and tucked in his chest.

"You're using me as a person human blanket and I don't know whether to be offended or not that that's the only use you could find for me at the moment." I mutter, twisting around in his hold until my chest is pressed into his abdomen and my head is on his pec.

Strong arms pull the blanket up to my ears, keeping us both warm, before one wraps around my shoulder and I'm guessing the other is behind his head.

"I want to wake her up, the competition is in less than five hours and she hasn't even gotten out of the hospital let alone picked out her outfit." A loud, familiar and very annoying voice states.

"Just let her be Cupid, you know she'll probably go out in what she usually does anyway." A just as familiar and slightly less annoying voice responds. "Good sleep is rare for her, let her get what she can."

Celeste and Xander.

I growl loudly, crushing myself further into the chest I'm laying on.

Wait -the chest I'm laying on?

Running on hand up their side I quickly determine that it's only Asher, who I don't think is even awake yet if his breathing is anything to go by. I relax again, returning to my comfortable position of being all curled up on Asher, only to have a slight squeal sound out.

Wincing I growl again, making the sound I know Celeste gave out instantly stop. "Let me fucking sleep." 

"Don't have to be so rude." Celeste tsks at me, making me oh so very willing to punch something. Her specifically. "I was only worried about what you're going to wear. Sometimes the shit you put on actually stresses me out, I swear."

"Go masturbate with a knife, I'm sure you'll find that relaxing." I snap, clutching onto Asher like a lifeline.

"Munchkin?" The nice guy says in a groggy voice, heartbeat increasing rapidly along with a sharp inhale when he notices the two idiots in my room. "Oh um, hello?"

"Hi." Celeste says with a growl -I have no clue why, because I know she's devoted to Xander and not a threat if she tried but possessiveness instantly floods me.

Sitting straight up I focus a harsh look on Celeste, who freezes in her action to step closer to us.

"You know, in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer Mark Twain proved to us he believed humans are the only evil creatures in existence because of our sense of right and wrong. Nothing a shark does is immoral or evil because it has no moral sense. Our own moral sense curses us with the ability to choose that evil, a trait unique only to us fucking humans." I pause, looking her straight in the eyes with my canines flashing. "And I'm telling you right now, if you don't leave and just wait for me at the cafe I will choose that evil, and I will choose to do it on you because my moral senses are fucked up and I won't regret it." 

"Point taken." The blonde squeaks, backing into my scowling brother.

"Be at home by 5, I brought your motorcycle by. I hope your voice is ready, because I swear this year she's going to kick your ass." Xander tells me, gloating about Celeste's singing.

My smirk is wide, showing off just how sharp my teeth are. "The only ass she kicks is yours, but hey, either way, you're taking home a trophy."

This has the arrogant look washing right off him.

It's so easy to put him back in place.