Curiosity sparked in me as I looked up at him, "Why do you call me 'blue'?" Asher smiled, his eyes filled with love, "Because your eyes remind me of the vast, deep ocean, and your soul shines like the clearest sky on a bright day. You're my calming...
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I woke to the gentle press of lips against my cheek, followed by a string of soft kisses trailing across my face. The warmth of Asher's touch and his subtle scent filled the air, coaxing me from sleep with a smile. I giggled at the sensation, feeling a playful energy in the way he kissed me, each touch light yet full of affection. It was the perfect way to start the day, and I couldn't help but laugh softly as I opened my eyes to find him grinning down at me. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and I knew it was going to be a good morning.
Asher's kisses were a soft wake-up call, but when he casually said it was noon, my eyes shot open, and I pushed him away with a pillow. "What time is it?" I asked, scrambling to sit up. When he repeated, "It's noon," I panicked. I threw back the covers and tried to get out of bed, but the second my feet hit the floor, I felt a sharp ache in my core and hissed at the discomfort. The next thing I knew, I was falling back onto the bed, my limbs suddenly weak.
Asher burst into laughter, clearly amused by my misfortune. "Why are you laughing?" I scolded, my annoyance tempered by the fact that my body was indeed sore. "This is your fault! You did this!" I was referring to our... enthusiastic activities the night before. He just smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Relax, Addy," he said, trying to suppress his grin. "It's Saturday. You don't have anywhere to be." It took me a second to process what he'd said, and then it hit me—I didn't have any meetings or appointments because it was the weekend. I felt my face flush with embarrassment and shot him a look that said he was going to pay for this.
"Saturday?" I repeated, still not fully convinced. I tried to play it off, but he knew he'd got me good. Asher's laughter was infectious, and soon I was giggling too, despite my sore muscles. He pulled me back onto the bed, a smirk on his lips. "You're mean," I said, smacking him with the pillow again, but it lacked any real force.
"Only to you, babe," he replied, wrapping his arms around me. As much as I pretended to be annoyed, I couldn't stay mad for long. With him, even the simplest moments became something worth laughing about, and that was enough to make the soreness worth it.
As I lay back on the bed, groaning at the soreness in my muscles, I couldn't help but whine a little. "Ugh, I'm so sore!" I complained, shifting to find a more comfortable position. Asher, of course, smirked in response, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"You weren't complaining last night," he remarked, a hint of smugness in his tone. I shot him a playful glare, though I couldn't deny he had a point. Last night had been... well, intense, and now I was feeling the aftermath.
"That's because you were being all charming and... you know," I said, trailing off with a wave of my hand. Asher just laughed, pulling me back into his arms, his warmth somehow soothing despite the aches. "I'll take that as a compliment," he replied, kissing the top of my head. Despite the soreness, I knew I wouldn't change a thing about the previous night.
"Asher," I said, my voice teasing yet genuine, "what's your obsession with making me wear your shirt every time? Got some weird thing for fashion, or are you just marking your territory?" I was half-joking, half-serious, wondering what went on in his mind.He turned to me with that smirk of his, the one that always had a hint of mischief. "Maybe a bit of both," he replied, not missing a beat. "I like seeing you in my clothes. It's like a sign that you're mine."
"That's kind of caveman, don't you think?" I shot back with a smirk of my own, though the way his eyes softened told me he wasn't joking entirely. He just liked the idea of us sharing something as simple as a shirt. Maybe it was his way of saying I belonged with him, in this quiet, intimate moment that was just ours."Caveman or not, it suits you," he said, reaching out to adjust the collar, his fingers brushing against my neck. The touch was gentle, affectionate, and I couldn't help but lean into it.
Asher's phone rang, and he reached over to answer it, his usual playful demeanor shifting as he listened to the person on the other end. His face went from light to serious in an instant, and I knew something was up.
"What's wrong?" I asked, trying to read his expression."Sophia's gone into labour," he replied, his voice calm but urgent. "We need to get to the hospital. Now."
