as told by asher

asher hemmings. boston born, brooklyn bound. 25. music producer, aspiring superstar. Sarcastic prick. Known dramatic. Trouble maker. Constant rule breaker. Committed button-pusher. Flirtatious realist. Strap you seat belts and stay along for the ride.

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

“Happy? You think I can open a brand new jar on my own? We’re going to be pickle-less for months, Asher. I hope you like boring burgers because we’re out of luck,” she replied with a breathy laugh. It felt wrong to be joking about the major changes they were both going to face once he’d gotten released from the hospital. But laughing about all the challenges and obstacles standing in their path was easier than accepting the harsh reality that things they’d once taken for granted were no longer going to be as simple as they once were. His warm hand in hers helped ground her, pull her out of her spiralling thoughts, fears and worries. His warm hand remaindered her that despite everything that was going to change, the one thing that wasn’t was his presence in her life. Their life. He was still here despite the mess of twisted metal that was now his car. She’d open his pickle jars till the day she died so long as he was by her side.

The thought of Asher being under the influence was admittedly the first thought that came to mind when she’d received the call. His history of drinking coupled with the pressure that came with his career, becoming a new father and the unstable nature of their relationship had driven him towards the bottle in the past, countless times. So to hear the shocking revelation that he hadn’t been drinking, that he was sober when he’d gotten in the accident made it all worse. He was trying to be better for their growing family, an Xyla felt her heart swell and eyes fill with tears once again.“Hey, hey. Don’t sit up, you need to rest and lay down,” she exclaimed as he pushed himself into a seated position, supported by an array of pillows. Xylas worried brown eyes were still focused on him when she felt a warm hand resting on her growing belly. “If this is your apology then I don’t want it. Take it back and try again, preferably in a manner that doesn’t land you hooked up to IV’s and looking more like Barney the Dinosaur than my baby daddy,” she teased, her fingers moving to rest atop his. In the week that he’d been gone, Xyla had begun to feel faint flutters that she soon learned to be kicks. They were minor, nothing strong enough to feel from the outside just yet, but there were there. In the days he’d been gone, she contemplated calling him to tell him the exciting news. And she couldn’t help but think that if she did, if she’d reached out without the malice of their past argument still tainting her tone that he would’ve come home sooner and this all could’ve been avoided. But she couldn’t let these thoughts fill her mind. Not when they had much bigger issues to deal with.

“We’re not going to become a throuple, and unless you’re willing to pay her more than this hospital does, I think your relationship ends the day you’re discharged,” Xy joked, reaching up to wipe the tears in her eyes.

Xyla’s eyes looked from him, to the monitor and to the small sliver on the bed he’d made for her. Was it a good idea to squeeze a nearly 6 month pregnant woman into a hospital bed alongside a man who’d just gotten into a terrible car accident? Probably not. Definitely not. But after almost losing him, she didn’t care. Pushing herself up onto the bed, she nestled in next to him, laying her head on his shoulder rather than against his chest like she normally would have. She watched his chest rise and fall with every breath he took and listened to the muted beeps from the machine next to him. “I thought I would be the one in the hospital bed. Not right now but in a couple months. You just had to beat me to it, didn’t you?” She said quietly, tilting her head so she could look up at him. Despite the bruising and swelling on his face, his eyes were still the same. So full of thought and love regardless of their tumulus relationship. This entire time, Xyla had been the one pushing him away, spewing hateful words about how she didn’t need his assistance, or that he could leave whenever he wanted. But he stood firm since the day he found out. It shouldn’t have taken a car accident for Xyla to realize that she wanted him to be around for their baby and herself just as much as he did, but laying there next to him opened her eyes as to how impossible it would’ve been to be without him.

“I’m sorry too,” she replied quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry I’m not the easiest to love or the easiest to be around most of the time. I’m sorry I make you feel like you don’t have a say in this pregnancy and for pushing you away when I get scared. The last thing I ever wanted was for this to happen to you. You should’ve been back at my place laying in bed. We should’ve been fighting about baby names or getting up in the middle of the night to drive to Jersey for the cheesecake I like - not this.” Xyla knew that the accident wasn’t her fault. But she couldn’t help but wonder what their lives would’ve been like if she hadn’t dismissed his present and simply accepted it. Maybe they’d be back in her apartment eating leftover spaghetti. Maybe they’d be washing Butters in the bath. As long as they weren’t here.

“But you’re going to get better. The bruising is going to go down, your ribs will heal over time and you’ll get a pretty little cast that I’ll write my name all over until it’s completely healed. You’re going to get better and we’re going to get better two. All three of us. Me, you and unnamed baby.”

“I can do without pickles,” He shrugged. He wondered how long she’d been sitting vigilantly at his bedside waiting for him to wake up. Admittedly his timeline was a bit foggy. Asher could have been asleep for days for all he knew but he figured since his body was still giving way to exhaustion that wasn’t even a possibility. “What I can’t do without is you. So, I’m glad you’re here.” Asher smiled as widely as he could, his cheeks aching with the tension in his cheeks. He continued to sit up as Xyla reprimanded him, defying her request but it was hard to believe she expected anything more. He was genetically predisposed to breaking the rules so what made laying in a hospital bed any different? Truthfully, Asher wanted to prove to her that he was okay and despite the ache in his ribs urging him to stay put in conjunction with Xyla’s commands, he sat up nevertheless. “As soon as I get detached from these machines, I’ll try again. Once I’m back at full strength that is. It might include a Chip and Dale dance so I hope you’re ready for it. A nice personal stripper apology.” Asher teased before sighing, bringing her knuckles to his lips and softly pecking them. He was grateful to be alive among all else, which was something he never imagined he’d be thinking. 

“I could pay her more than the hospital. You know I could. Plus, she may be able to solve our pickle crisis.” Asher released a relieved sigh as she laid in bed beside him. Though he didn’t say anything, it physical hurt him to lay with her. But in lieu of his injuries, he accepted her into his embrace. Healing could come later but the only thing on his mind right now was Xyla. As she settled again his shoulder, he rested his lips against her forehead absentmindedly, his free hand draped across her shoulders. “You should know I’m the star of the show by now,” He chuckled against her warm skin, pulling her closer despite the ache of his body cautioning him not to. And as they laid there, an unexpected apology filled the air. Traditionally, Asher would gloat and recite his I told you so’s, but in this climate it just didn’t seem right. Telling her she was wrong wouldn’t make him feel any better. “Hey. It’s okay.” He dismissed. “If you want, we can lay here and fight about baby names. And you can go get us some high-class cheesecake from the cafeteria, it’s probably nicer than Jersey.” Asher nodded at her with a smile. He didn’t want to fight anymore, all he wanted was to fast forward to the part where they were happy. But it seemed as though his hospital room was a detour. “We should probably figure out a baby name so we can call her something..” He trailed off with a sigh. “But first, can I just fucking kiss you? Some asshole put a wrench in my plans of coming home to my girl and kissing her and apologizing.” Asher’s eyes were overflowing with authenticity. The whole ride home had been consumed with thoughts of her and now that she was here in front of him, all he wanted was to throw away the chaos of the last few weeks and start fresh. And although they couldn’t erase the past, he wanted to move forward. “You don’t have to kiss me though. Or keep the credit card, obviously. You are, however, stuck with me and our no name child forever. So I’d get used to the fuck ups.. and the apologies.”

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

Xyla had been in the midst of making dinner when her phone rang, interrupting the melody of sizzling, bubbling and boiling in her kitchen. She quickly wiped off her hands and waddled over to where her phone sat. But to her surprise rather than the monikers Mom or Rowan displayed across her screen, it read Brooklyn Hospital. Her heart sank, falling into the pit of her stomach where it swirled anxiously inside her.

Good Evening, Ms. Villanueva. We brought in a patient by the name of Asher Hemmings this evening. You were listed as his emergency contact. We were hoping that you’d be able to come down to the hospital. He has been involved in a car accident and we will be able to provide you with more information once you get here.

The next two hours were a blur, everything moving both in slow motion and fast forwarding as she shut off her stove, grabbed her purse and hopped in her car, weaving through Brooklyn traffic towards the hospital. A car accident? Had he been speeding? Had he been hit by a drunk driver? Someone on their phone? Did he run into a tree? Endless and daunting questions filled her head, forcing her to think of the worst possible situations rather than hope and pray that he was fine, sitting in a hospital bed waiting for someone, her, to come pick him up. Why couldn’t they tell her the information on the phone? Why couldn’t they give her something to ease her worried mind, to allow her a second to breathe? Their looming tension regarding their future both as a couple and as parents caused a rift in their relationship. It had been a week with no more than cordial text messages assuring him she’d been eating, and that the baby had grown to the size of a Rutabaga. No late night phone calls or sleepy facetimes, just short replies. But none of that mattered anymore. Xyla couldn’t have cared less about the thick black credit card inscribed with her name, the debate over their daughters name or her family’s endless pressing questions on their relationship. She didn’t care about the uncertainties regarding their future as a family, when his life was potential on the line, uncertain itself. Suddenly, everything they’d fought over felt childish. She felt foolish for wasting all their time fighting, screaming into the late hours of the night when they should’ve been celebrating, forging their bond and getting excited for what was to come. They should’ve embraced being back together.

When Xyla arrived at the hospital, she was quickly ushered down a long, brightly lit hallway towards an in-patient room. It wasn’t the ICU, so she let out a little breath of relief, but still the nurse didn’t say much until they entered the room. That was when she’d gotten the full story. Asher was asleep on a hospital bed, his usual dark clothing swapped out for a pastel blue hospital gown and a white blanket tucked neatly over his waist. His eyes were darkened from the blow of the airbag, nose carefully adjusted back into place with a split taped to his face, his wrist in a cast and deep purple bruises beginning to develop on his arms, chest and neck, surely from the impact. Xyla’s heart stopped at the sight, her eyes quickly overflowing with tears as she hurried to the empty chair beside his bed. Carefully, she reached for his good hand and gave it a light squeeze, the incessant beeping of the machine beside her providing some comfort that he was still there, he was still alive.

Xyla wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting next to him when he finally began to open his eyes. It could been minutes or it could’ve been hours, but her grip on his hand never loosened and her eyes never shifted from his swollen features. But slowly, his eyes began to open, long dark lashes fluttering until they opened. Xy sat up straighter in her seat, hear pounding in her chest as he awoke. “Hey baby,” she coo’d, eyes welling with tears and lips curling into a grateful smile as she met her favourite eyes. “You’re okay. You’re in the hospital, you got into an accident. But you’re okay, you’re okay,” she reassured though her voice shook. Xy hated seeing him this way, broken and beaten. But this was only temporary. Carefully, she stood from the seat, taking care not to jostle his arm but struggling with the weight of her growing belly. Xy reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes before she continued, “I’m gonna go get the nurse so she can check on you. I’ll be back, okay?”

It hurt to blink. Pain struck his swollen eyes as he struggled keep them open, and again when they shut. It was dull enough be tolerate as he peeled his lids and looked up at the ceiling. It took only a second of consciousness to fell a warm hand in his which made the corners of his lips up turn. She came, despite the current state of their relationship, she came for him. And hearing Xyla’s voice made him release a satisfied exhale. “Hey.” He whispered back, throat dry from the hours he’d spent asleep and the hours before that spent thirst. Asher cleared his throat as Xyla relaid the synopsis of his night to him. His gaze hesitantly pulled from her weeping eyes to his body. The first thing he saw was his plastered wrist, pulling a sigh effortlessly from his lips. “Shit..” He whispered but nodded as Xyla said she’d go retrive the nurse.

The woman assigned to monitor him was nice enough. Her bedside manner was kind and warm and telling by smile and sympathetic eyes, she was probably as glad Xyla that Asher was alive. The nurse made polite conversation with the couple as she switched over the drip that kept his pain at bay. She asked about their child, whether it was a boy or a girl, and when she was due. The nurse wondered if they’d chosen a name yet, a conversation the couple hadn’t gotten to finish before an argument erupting. But the conversation kept him levelheaded, kept him distracted from all of things he’d have to deal with after being discharged.

Once the woman left the room, Asher was in higher spirits. “Don’t cry, Xy.” He spoke with a small smirk. “You should be excited that you get to give me sponge baths and open pickle jars for me for the next few weeks.” The man teased before squeezing her hand. She really did care for him, if that hadn’t been apparent before. But watching her tears pour made his heart ache knowing that he love for him was just an unbearable as the thought of living life without him. He assumed that was what true love was after all. “I.. I wasn’t drinking. I promise. I wouldn’t now. Too much to lose.” Asher assured her as he attempted to sit up slowly, feeling the ache in his ribs with the motion but he successfully sat up and leaned over. His hand slipped from hers and found her growing belly, a bright smile appearing on his bruise face. His eyes were glued on his hand that rubbed circles on her belly as he spoke. “I was just thinking about coming home to my girls and buying a stupid apology gift. I’m going to assume me laying in a hospital bed doesn’t count as an apology though.” Asher sighed and his eyes met hers as he leaned closer. “I’m sorry for being a prick. Usually I’d tell you to get used to it but.. you shouldn’t have to. I love you. Both of you, and God, I love that nurse. I think we should bring her home and if we don’t become a throuple, she could be out housewife and nanny.” Asher joked weakly before pulling away and leaning back against the bed. He scooted over, grunting and groaning as he did so due to his sore core. Patting the bed beside him, Asher looked up. “Come lay with me. Come on.”

[mattdaddario-online]

matthewdaddario:”live I don’t know what igtv is, but this is my live from earlier. ”

[asherhemmings]

A late night drive from city to city. It wasn’t too uncommon an occurrence. It was a common trek for salesmen who drove their gas tanks dry, or those of Asher’s clients who toured and slipped across state lines in the wee hours of the night. The man didn’t go home much, in fact it was a stretch to call Boston anything but a starting point. It was a breeding ground that he once roamed, one that handcrafted every horrid part of him. Crossing the Zakim bridge never got easier, even if the smiling faces of his grandparents awaited him at the opposite end of the tunnel. The tourist renowned city was a sparkle in the eyes of some but to Asher Hemmings, it was nothing more than an obligation. After the gender reveal, Asher returned to the city to visit his grandparents. He viewed it impersonal to share the news of Xyla’s pregnancy over the phone, and the last thing he wanted was to disrespect the very people who raised him from a timid, leaf on a branch into an unshakable oak. Asher had spent the weekend with them, sharing the news of his awaited daughter and showcasing the ultrasounds with pride. His phone was silenced for the weekend though communications were a few and far between. 

But despite the refreshing weekend in the four walls the built him, Asher was eager to get back to New York. Getting back to work was a main priority after spending most of his time playfully plucking the ivories with his grandfather or tapping utensil melodies over dinner. Unplugging from the insomniac city was just what he needed to get reintroduced to inspiration and he couldn’t wait to get back into the studio. Entering Brooklyn once more meant that he’d be seeing Xyla again. The pair hadn’t talked much since the gender reveal, but he blamed that on a busy work week rather than where they’d left things. Asher had shot her a few askew texts along the lines of: Hey, how are you feeling today? Any fruit updates I should know about? The man almost wanted to say he missed her, that the thought of her hadn’t left his mind the whole week spent away from her. But in the interest of things simmering, Asher decided to internationalize rather than make matters worse even if he did crave her smile staring back at him or her little bump parting the space between their hugs. 

For the first time in so long, his mind was clear. Asher could see the New York City lights drawing closer, the Hudson river closely following alongside the highway and reflecting the city’s glow just the same. He could feel a relieved smile consume his lips as his thumbs tapped enthusiastically against his steering wheel. The anxious feeling in his stomach was nonthreatening but rather anticipation to get back to the girl he loved and the craft he cared for in the same regard. His pupils dilated as he stared out the windshield of his Mercedes, enchanted the illuminance that called him home. The lights drew closer, and closer, until they were too close for comfort. 

Good Evening, Ms. Villanueva. We brought in a patient by the name of Asher Hemmings this evening. You were listed as his emergency contact. We were hoping that you’d be able to come down to the hospital. He has been involved in a car accident and we will be able to provide you with more information once you get here.

And there were the lights again. The cool toned fluorescent lights that hung over head from the ceiling of the bed he laid in. Asher’s eyelids fluttered under the weight of the sedative he was given but he could feel himself coming to. The feeling in his stomach had vanished, the lights no longer welcoming in their demeanor. They only confused him and threatened him close his eyes so he would no longer have to feel any pain. But the dull beeps of the machines he’d been strapped to urged him to wake in conjunction with the nurse’s voice in the hallway. A car accident. Instead of fighting to evaluate his injuries, Asher closed his eyes. At least he knew soon someone would be by his side. 

@xyla-v​

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

“Yes, Asher. I want to pay all the bills, do all the shopping, go to doctors appointments alone and be in the delivery room all by myself because I want to say that I did everything myself because my ego is that big, giant even - No, do you hear yourself? Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?” Xyla spat back, looking up at him from her position on the couch. Her dark eyes were full of fire the second he questioned her intentions. Did he think that poorly of her? That she wanted to be only person to pay for their child just so she could say she did? “If I wanted to do everything myself, I wouldn’t have bothered coming to find you to tell you I was pregnant in the first place. But I hauled my ass all the way to Brooklyn, took the damn train because I wanted you to be part of this. But that doesn’t mean I need your money!” Turning her head, she looked back at the television in front of them, watching drama not unlike their own unfold. Her eyes had been glued to the screen until she saw the paper card fly down against the wooden coffee table she’d propped her feet on. Her eyes filled with tears, not out of fear but rather a mixture of sadness and anger. All she’d wanted as one day, one perfect day, to think back on when their daughter was born and they were left trying to figure out what their next steps were, but it seemed like that wasn’t in the card for them.

As the names of her ex’s slipped out of his mouth, Xy turned to face him once again. “I can buy whatever six-in-one stroller, overprice baby shower dress and brand new crib on my own. That was never a concern of mine. I have my stuff taken care of,” she snapped, eyes hard despite them being full of tears. “You can’t just buy your way back into my life with expensive things, a thick black credit card that I can charge whenever something pretty and pink catches my eye. I can do that myself.” At this point, tears were beginning to fall from her eyes and she was tired of crying in front of him. Tired of crying about him, over him as well. Pushing up from the couch, she rested a hand on her stomach as she walked slowly towards the kitchen, needing a glass of water to help calm her down. “For the record, no guy has ever made anything easy on me. Jimmy? Cheated. Sterling? Also cheated. I don’t exactly have a great track record,” She trailed off, shaking her head. Xy hoped that he wouldn’t be just another name added to her list, but with Asher, she could never tell.

Xy poured herself a glass and sat at the kitchen table, drinking it slowly and avoiding his gaze. She could feel his eyes during into her back but she didn’t want to turn and face him. “I don’t need your money or your expensive presents,” she said, setting the glass back down on the table. “I’ve never needed your money, never needed you to pay for anything. If you want to buy stuff for the baby like a fancy stroller, car seat or whatever, then that’s great. But I can’t get comfortable relying on your for that because, well let’s be real, are we gonna be together forever? I can’t get used to having you around again only for everything to go to shit again.” Xy’s heart was heavy, she felt a lump in her throat where her emotions fought to get out. But she was all cried out. 

All Asher could go was impatiently sway, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with indecision. Should he let her keep barking and vouching for her independence? Or should he intervene to raised his gloves, turning this living space from a common area to a boxing ring, throwing jabs at one another until they tired from the strenuous impact of their fight? The thought of fighting was fleeting but instead of acting her began chewing on the inside of his cheek and fixed his gaze on the clock on the wall. As she spoke about her exes, her inability to need him, her proclaimed independence and so on, Asher couldn’t help but see the minutes waste on. It seemed as though the pair weren’t going to come an agreement on a baby name or the disposition of this hefty black credit card. So when Xyla asked Let’s be real, are we gonna be together forever? Asher grabbed his keys off the coffee table. “I was hoping so.” The man said bluntly, more annoyance in his tone than genuine appeal when it came to concept. “But, maybe you should evaluate if that’s what you want. If you can even stomach the idea of forever with me.” The man shook his head and set his sights on her front door, grabbing his jacket on the way out. He slipped the tight leather onto his shoulders before turning back to look as Xyla. Asher sighed softly, giving her a sad grin. “Keep the card. Use it, don’t. I don’t really care. Just call me when you figure out what we’re doing here.” Asher said before exiting the apartment.

[bane--lightwood]

#his smile saved my life #my depression is cured #my grades are up # my skin is clear +

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

Xyla listened quietly, her perfectly painted lips pressed together in a tight smile as Asher spoke of their future. A home filled with both doting children and playful pets, the idea of him taking the kids out and spoiling them with whatever they pleased, and the two of them getting back to a place where they desperately needed to get their hands on each other that protective measures such as birth control and condoms were thrown to the wind. They’d already experience the latter so it wasn’t inconceivable that it could happen again, but it seemed so far away given their current status. It seemed like a different life. However, it was the life that she’d always hoped for but was too scared to try for. The truth was, Xyla always imagined herself as a single mother, knocked up by accident but determined to keep her little family. That’s the way it was in her head, thats the way it had been for the last few months, and now that the option for her dream life was literally sitting in front of her, she wasn’t sure she had the courage to go for it. Because to say yes to all of those things meant opening her heart up and allowing the possibility to get hurt again. When looking at both options from an outside point-of-view, it was painfully obvious which life she’d prefer. But finding the bravery to say yes, to jump in feet-first was truly petrifying.

She reached up to wipe away the tears forming in her eyes before they could fall. “I’m just scared,” she admitted, finally. Saying the one thing that had plagued her mind since the day she found out she was pregnant, amplifying only when Asher began tending to her every need. “I can’t believe I’m crying. I promise it’s just the hormones. I can’t watch a pet food commercial anymore without braking into tears. And I know it’s a happy day but I’m just scared that, I don’t know Asher, one day you decide you’re not in this for me but just for her. Which is fine. I’d prefer you to stick around for her rather than leave us both but … it’s just scary to think that could happen.” Her words came out in a rush, stumbling over each other as she backtracked with the hope of not sounding like she was begging for him to stay. Because that wasn’t what she was doing. Xyla just needed him to understand why she was being dumb, cynical and unable to just accept his words. “And, I mean other than breaking into my apartment the other night, you’ve done everything right so far. You’ve given me no reason to think otherwise but-“ She stopped. There was no use in saying the words that sat at the tip of her tongue because, he already knew the answer.

“And yes, we will be fighting over names until the day she is born. You better come up with your list of back-ups now because I’ve been thinking about this for the last 5 months.”

Sucking in a deep breath and allowing her chest to rise and fall slowly, Xyla tried her best to calm herself. His fingers tangled with hers helped ground her, pull her out of the thoughts that haunted her during the late hours of the night and bring her back to reality. Xy let her eyes fall to his lean chest. “No, no. Don’t put words into my mouth. I definitely enjoy the way you look now, but the second you go out on the street pushing a pink stroller looking as goods you do, you’re going to have flocks of women following your every move. Call me selfish but I’d rather you be the Michelin man than New Yorks #1 DILF.” 

Xyla’s lips tugged into a smile as she looked at the pastel elephants covering the card. It was terribly cliche and reminiscent of the dozens of nursery inspiration posts she’d pinned over the last few months. But what caused her lips to curl was the idea that Asher had stood in front of a shelf filled with cards  similar to this, looking for the right one. The thick black credit card inside fell out the second she opened it, drawing her attention away from the sweet words scrawled in his handwriting. For a brief moment, she though it was a gift card to one of the baby boutiques in Manhattan. But as her eyes focused on the indented letters, she realized it was so much more than that. 

“Asher, what is this?” She gawked despite knowing the answer. Xy held the thick plastic between her fingertips between them, holding it out for him to take back. “I don’t need your money. I have enough saved up to pay for any medical bills and last us for months, years even so you can thanks, but no thanks.” Xyla dropped the black card into his lap and crossed her arms over her chest, eyes focused on the television in front of them. The day she’d told Asher about her pregnancy, many of his questions revolved about whether she needed a place to stay, money, or clothes. Xyla didn’t need any of that, didn’t need any monetary assistance or things to fill the nursery. And after their blow up that night, and the way she’d reiterated that she didn’t need any help of that sort from him, she thought he finally understood. 

“You could’ve shown up with a box of diapers and that would’ve been great. Perfect even. But you can’t just hand me a company card and say do with it what you wish,” she continued, shaking her head. “I didn’t tell you about her so that you could give me money. I don’t need any help from you.”

Upon meeting their first meeting, Asher was nearly certain that Xyla Villanueva never shed a tear. She seemed far too mighty, her chin always held higher than the heels she strutted the city streets in. But maybe since she’d traded in her pumps for memory foam flats that supported her swollen heals, she too needed that same type of support. Watching tears well up in her eyes and push down onto her tan cheeks never got easier and still felt so foreign. “You think I’m not scared as hell?” Asher breathed out as she tucked a piece of raven hair behind her ear. “I’ve never loved anything as much as I love myself. Not video-games or music, not even my first Playboy mag. But now, I have two incredible, beautiful women that I have to put before myself. Not that I have to.. because I could continue to be a narcissistic piece of shit who was standing in the middle of some snobby launch party talking about returning a sticky porno to blockbuster. But I want to put you first.. and her, whatever her name is, and I could see myself doing that because, well, I love you.” Asher wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her shoulder softly with his thumb. 

Asher watched as Xyla opened the envelope and took the card into her grasp, a smile bright on her features. He mirrored her satisfaction as a warm blush pooled over her cheeks. He was in the midst of wondering if this is how holidays would be. Him patiently waiting while she opened a box to reveal a set of diamond earrings or opening up a nail gift certificate on her birthday. Asher could get used to that smile, that was until her reaction shifted upon pulling the credit card into her grasp. 

“I was trying to help so you wouldn’t have to work so hard.” He retorted sympathetic to her anger. But the second the credit card fell in his lap, an angry switch of his own flipped. “Yeah, you’re right. You weren’t even going to tell me about her to begin with. So I already know you don’t need me.” Asher rose to his feet, tucking his hands into his back pockets as she stared at her incredulous. She had to understand that he was trying to do what was best, not hurt her feelings. But it seemed as though he was only adding injury to insult. He could feel his heart aching in his chest and his stomach ached right along with it surely a tell tale sign of manifested anxiety. “Do you - do you just want to do everything yourself so that the first time I fuck up you can say that you do everything? Do you just.. want everything in your hands so when I stay out a minute later than I said I would be you can take me to court for full custody with everything in your name, no trace of me?” Asher chewed on his lip as she took a step backwards. He was trying to repress his hurt as he threw the card down onto the coffee table before looking at her again. A long sigh fell from his lips before he pursed his lips, defeated. “Sorry I’m not Jimmy. Or Sterling. Or any guy that could have made this easier on you. I didn’t realize wanting you to be taken care of and being able to buy whatever six-in-one stroller or overpriced baby shower dress you wanted was a crime. God, I’m such a dick. How could I?”

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

Xyla knew the suggestion would send Asher into a frenzy, eyes practically bugging out and heart palpitating at the mere thought of the unborn daughter in the arms of another man, or perhaps woman, sneaking around when they should’ve been in class. While she was also opposed to the idea of their child dating at such a young age, she couldn’t resist the opportunity to play into the idea. “Absolutely not. Fifteen is a completely reasonable age. She’d be in her freshman or sophomore year, and as long as she isn’t dating a dead-beat or disgusting football player, I think it’s perfectly fine. All they’ll do at that age is go to the movies anyways,” she reasoned, turning to face him after the sweet kiss to the top of her head. The day, despite some initial shock and resistance from her family, had gone without a hitch. The food was delicious, decorations nauseatingly adorable, and the revel was everything she hoped for and more. It was exactly what she said she didn’t want, but of course, secretly dreamed of since finding out she was pregnant on the floor of her bathroom. Asher being there, powering through painful conversation with co-workers, friends and family members that knew of their explosive breakup, and staying to help clean up after was the cherry on top. Unexpected, but exactly what she needed to make the day perfect.

While she was ecstatic to have him by her side, a small voice in the back of her head warned of the potential threat of him leaving. Of him deciding this was too much, too real, and that a child didn’t fit into the life he wanted for himself. That she didn’t fit into the life he wanted. It was a painful thought she’d come to terms with, but one she didn’t like to think about often in fear of bringing it to life. So instead, she chose to live in blissful ignorance and pretend, even just for that day, that things were normal. That they were the happy couple they’d always strived to be, but somehow fell short of each and every time. “You want more kids?” Xy asked incredulously, looking up at him through thick lashes. “I imagined I’d be done after one kid. It’s only been a couple of weeks and I already can’t wait to push her out of me. I can’t sleep through the night without needing to flip over 18 times, and I pee like an 86 year old. Let’s just see if we make it out okay after this one.” Let’s see if we end up together at the end of this, is what she really wanted to say. But the words would’ve dampened their spirits and forced them to face the reality of their uncertain relationship. In that moment, they were nothing more than two friends who’d slept together and gotten pregnant. To say they were anything else would be a lie, despite the feelings she harboured for him.

Xy stretched our her legs further, twirling her sore and swollen ankles after a day of standing in beautiful yet painful heels. Her toes were beginning to look like perfectly painted sausages, but before she could comment on them, his worlds pulled her straight out of her thoughts. I love you. Xyla stopped her movements and looked up at him, deep brown eyes searching for a sign that he wasn’t saying the words because he felt obligated to, or was trying to keep her from running off again, but that he was telling the truth. Love was a feeling she’d had for others, but had never been reciprocated. Despite having heard the three words before, each relationship ended explosively, resulting in blocked phone numbers, social media accounts and staying away from their neighbourhoods in fear of crossing paths. Therefore, while Xyla yearned to hear him say the three short words for months, she was also afraid that once he did, everything would come crashing down. That it would be the peak of their relationship and everything would be downhill from there, the same way it had with everyone else.

Xyla sucked in a deep breath and reached for his hand, her fingers gently with his. “Asher we don’t have to talk about this,” she said simply, opting the easy way out rather than facing her biggest desire and fear head-on. “You know that I love you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have told you about her in the first place. I love you so much it’s actually embarrassing. But you don’t have to say it back, you don’t have to say it because you feel like you have to. I don’t want that, so if that’s what you’re doing, then please stop,” she said, her voice unwavering and her emotions firm for the first time all night. Xy turned her head to look up at him and let a small smile curl up her lips despite the tears pooling in her eyes. “And it is a happy day. We’re having a baby girl, and we’ve got a lot to look forward to like shopping for baby clothes, learning how to put a crib together and shopping for a stroller. It’s a happy day,” she reiterated simply.

This was all a facade. She’d mentally prepared herself for this exact situation and knew exactly what to say and do to ease his worries while protecting her heart. Her walls were up but her heart was exposed. Each word she said was the honest truth, but in a second, she could snap back to her usual ways, deflecting anything that could hurt her before it could. “You’ve got to start working on your dad-bod,” she teased, hoping to change the subject before her tears could fall. “You’ve got to incorporate some more taco bell into your diet, or even McDonalds if you’re ready to commit to that Super Size Me lifestyle.”

Asher couldn’t help but consider the person he was when he was fifteen. Damaged, caring about nothing more than video games and pot. It seemed though that he’d only exchanged his priorities for music and booze. But the thought of this innocent being, derived from the purest and most identifiable parts of their DNA, being taken advantage of by anyone in her lifetime drove him instantly mad. “Are you speaking from experience on the deadbeats or disgusting football players?” He playfully joked, pouting softly as her toyed with a strand of her dark brown hair. “Also no movies. Nothing good happens at the movies. It’s all handjobs and popcorn crumbs.” Asher spoke with certainty. He readjusted his positioning on the couch as he laid his head atop hers and snaked his arm around Xyla’s shoulders. It felt rewarding to be so close again. “Can’t we just do an arranged marriage type deal?”

Being an only child, Asher always felt like he was missing out on something. But, his life had been extremely circumstantial so with all things being considered, he was glad he didn’t have siblings. On the other hand, Xyla had two sisters who seemed to be fully immersed in her life. He wasn’t sure if they were regularly so hands-on but he figured that their future niece had something to due with their heightened interest. “You don’t?” Asher inquired, looking at her with a skeptical brow. But as she began to explain her reasoning, for all reasons physical that he could by no mean understand, he nodded in compliance. “Only children get lonely, though. If you don’t give her a sibling against her will, she’ll start asking for one. Or worse, she’ll ask for a puppy. Then all of a sudden, our future home becomes a zoo and is overrun by animals because we can’t say no.” He teased. “I never got a puppy or a sibling, so I already know she’ll get my sympathy every time we walk past a hamster at the pet store or see a dog on TV.” Asher pressed his lips lazily against his forehead as he squeezed her shoulder. He then sat up straighter and untangled himself from Xyla and faced her, smirking softly with glistening eyes. “Also, it’s bold of you to assume we’re going to start using condoms after this. That’s a pretty late in the game action.”

As Xyla’s fingers intertwined within his, Asher’s features softly drooped with discouragement. Did she really think he’d say something he didn’t mean? Especially something as serious as the word love. “Hey,” He breathed out, squeezing her hand gently. “I do love you, dumby. Can you stop being so cynical and just accept that? I’m not saying it sympathetically, I’m saying it because it’s true.” Asher said before using his free hand to cup her cheek. He then leaned in and pecked her lips gently. He longed for more. To simply lay on his couch and kiss her for hours in order to make up lost time but he knew it wasn’t that simple. His thumb worked against her cheek as she spoke, nodding in time with her words. “It is a happy day. Should we talk about names or will that be a never ending debate?” At the comment about his physique, Asher scoffed playfully. He’d put on quite a lot of muscle since their relationship’s end. His biceps growing as well as his abs being more defined. “What? You don’t like the way I look now? Here I was thinking I was bettering myself, setting my Captain America goals just to find out I need to fatten up?” He frowned jokingly. “Now I know why you haven’t commented on how sexy and buff I look? Because you’d rather being bagging the Michelin man.”

Asher then readjusted himself once more, pulling the folded envelope out of his pocket. It was a pink envelope with a neatly written Xyla on the front in his hand writing. “I almost forgot, here.” It contained a card with three elephants on the front, stereotypical a mom, dad, and baby elephant. They were pictured to be all holding trunks with hearts and squiggles around them, paired with some bullshit hallmark quote Asher hadn’t truly bothered to read. Inside the card, he’d scribbled a bit of commentary of his own. Xy, I’m so lucky to have you back in my life. Now and forever. XO, Ash. Accompanying the handwritten sentiment sat one of his company’s credit cards with her name on it. “It’s for whatever you need. Daughter related, not daughter related. Just want to make sure you have everything you need.”

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

Xyla nervously chewed on the inside of the cheek as Asher started to speak, addressing her friends and family as if he didn’t have a target on his back or warrant his head. As if they weren’t still on dangerously thin ice. She hadn’t expected him to do more than stand up front with her, holding a pin and popping the latex balloon releasing pink or blue coloured confetti. But she was thoroughly impressed that, despite all odds stacked against him, Asher had managed to thank everyone for the roles they’d play in their unborn child’s life, as well as sing her praises without skipping a beat, stuttering or faltering in any way. In the months apart, Xy had forgotten how well Asher pulled himself together under pressure or how he effortlessly commanded the attention of everyone in the room. But despite knowing his years of practice, Xyla felt tears prick her eyes at his words, her emotions taking reign and allowing her facade to soften.

Following his lead, Xyla held the tiny metal pin between her perfectly manicured fingers and nodded once. Around her, she could hear her friends and family excitedly counting down. She felt their curious eyes darting between their faces, trying to grasp what his sudden re-appearance meant for them and their baby. Surely, they were the same questions that had set up shop in her brain as of late, but at that moment, she didn’t care what they thought, or how hard they’d have to fight for some sense of normalcy among the chaos. All she could focus on was his bright smile looking down at her, his hand poised and ready to pop the balloon just like hers, with excitement plastered clear across his face. She didn’t favour one outcome over the other. She didn’t care if they were going to spend the next couple years learning and mastering intricate hairstyles, or teaching their kid how to hit a baseball. All that mattered was that they, herself, Asher and their little dumpling, were happy and together.

One.

The pointed tip of the pin pressed against the latex balloon and sent baby pink confetti and glitter flying through the air, landing on every possible surface. Pink! They were having a baby girl! Xyla beamed as pieces of paper fluttered through the air around her, her friends and family erupting in cheers. She thought she heard her sisters screaming proud, ‘I knew it!’s at each other, and watched her parents embrace each other at the news of another granddaughter whom they’d spoil the second she took her first breath. Tears quickly filled Xyla’s eyes as the realization that she’d have a little girl to raise into a bright, strong and fiercely independent woman set in. But before she could lift her hands to her eyes, Asher pulled him towards her, and she wrapped her arms around his torso, holding him close. “No way,” she repeated, her voice thick with emotions ranging from disbelief to pure joy. “We’re gonna have a daughter. I can’t believe it!” Despite all the chaos leading up to that moment, standing up there with him, finding out the gender of their unborn baby and watching the excitement on his face made it all worth it. Asher’s blue button-up shirt was littered with pink confetti, which clung to the fabric. He had glittery pieces stuck in his hair, and some perched proudly on his shoulders, but it looked right. It felt right. It was everything she’d hoped for and more.

-

Hours past since the news of the bouncing baby girl goring in her belly had come to fruition. They’d spend that time mingling with everyone in attendance, introducing Asher to those he hadn’t already met, and awkwardly re-introducing him to those he had. It was a delicate dance and while most were polite, congratulating them on their pregnancy and keeping the questions geared towards the future, there had been others who poked and prodded for more. Her family and Lousia being the main interrogators. Despite her embarrassment, Xyla had told her sisters, other and Louisa everything, needing them to listen as she cried, screamed and yelled until her anger dissipated. Her father received a stripped down version, skipping over finding him with a girl glued to his cock in the comforts of his studio. But surely, Mr. Villanueva didn’t need the explicit details to gather an understanding of what had gone down. But still, they made their rounds. They held conversations and answered their questions, regardless of how intimate or intense they were.

At this point int he night, everyone had left for the evening. Her family had invited them to go out for dinner to celebrate the news, by Xyla opted out claiming she’d been too tired from a day of interacting to do much more than curl up in bed and look through baby catalogues. But thankfully, Asher had stuck around with her.

“So, when is she allowed to start dating? I think 15,” Xy teased, as she settled down on her couch and stretched her tired legs and swollen feet out towards the coffee table.

There was no explanation for the complex euphoria of this discovery. It wasn’t as though the knowledge of the gender made any difference in his life, but just knowing now that a baby girl would be coming into their lives just flipped his world upside down. He was always sure his first child would be a boy -- well, he was always sure his first child would be a mistake, with a no name girl who came after him for child support and the very empire he’d built himself. Not only was he grateful to be sharing this unique experience with Xyla, Asher was overjoyed to be bring a little girl into the world. One that would teach him about loving something selflessly, a daughter who would paint his nails and force him out of his comfort zone. The thought of all the girls he’d once mistreated or used haunting him at night as his daughter slept in the next room. He was certain this was the universe’s way of teaching him a lesson, giving him a final chance to prove that he could a respect a woman that he’d love with a greater capacity than he could ever showcase his own selfishness.

Truly, nothing could have shaken Asher’s mood for the rest of evening. Not the disapproving glares or the pressing questions, not the reintroductions to people who didn’t want him there. This all being because is cheeks ached with joy to the point that it was almost embarrassing. With his arm snaked around Xyla’s waist as they hopped from party to party, from discussion to discussion, Asher was inexplicably chipper. It was most certainly the happiest that Xyla had ever seen him, hopefully giving her the peace of mind she needed. 

As the party began to fizzle out, the high he was riding dissipated but did not fade completely. He still felt the butterflies that fluttered within his stomach and the weight his chest that he was sure was his heart swelling like the Grinch. But, Asher was relieved that after all the chaos the day had to bring that he could at last sit alone with Xyla on her couch, arm hanging around her shoulders as they cathartically snuggled up. “Fifteen!?” Asher exclaimed, apparently morally outraged by the low ball. He knew what he was doing around fifteen so the thought of his daughter dating at the age seemed out of the question. “Eighteen at minimum. If she can vote, she can date. Even then, I’m hesitant.” He pressed his lips lazily against Xyla’s head, breathing in the sent of her shampoo before leaning back against the couch. It was hard for him not to be casual with her. Kissing her whenever, holding her whenever, fucking her whenever. Their relationship had certainly did a one-eighty. Asher knew that just because they were happy in this moment didn’t mean they were together or that they didn’t have things to work on. 

“I can’t believe we’re going to have a daughter,” Asher breathed out as if he needed to reinstate it into existence. “It’s those Villanueva genes. Do you think we’re going to have three girls, too? I don’t know how your dad did it.” He laughed softly before his laughter trickled out. The thought of having a family, the thought of there being so much more to their lives than this moment blew his mind. The fact that he was already talking about the rest of his life with Xyla may have sounded crazy or out of line but its what he wanted. No matter how uncomfortable it made her in this moment, their forever is what he needed. He hoped one day that her family would be able to love him, though he’d given them every reason not. He hoped that things could be good for them one day, perfect even. But perhaps he was only thinking these things while he was happy. And forgetting about his wrongdoings would take years, maybe even a lifetime. “Xy -- I just wanted to let you know that I love you. You don’t have to say it back, you don’t even have to believe it. I just really do.” Asher assured her as his eyes were glued to wall opposite them before flickering to her. “I wasn’t just saying it because I was drunk or we were fighting. I’m just.. sorry for everything I’ve done." He didn’t quite remember the full night but he did remember the sobering words of her admitting she loved him. “But, this is supposed to be a happy day.”

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

Everyone in attendance knew that Asher Hemmings was the father of her unborn baby, not because she’d outwardly announced it, but there was no possible way it could’ve been anybody else. Not the flirty trainer at her gym, the bartender at her and Louisa’s go-to spot on Friday nights - just him. They’d spend the months prior to their explosive ‘breakup’ attached at the hip, hopping from launch party to launch party, indulging in the city’s finest restaurants and bars, and lounging in either of their apartments without a care in the world. To think otherwise would’ve meant they’d been blind to the uncharacteristic manner in which she’d allowed herself to fall head-over-heels for him or ignore the way he’d seemed to settle down. As a result, everyone in the room knew exactly who Asher was when he stepped through the door of her apartment. Behind her, Xyla could hear the whispers of her family and friends, all doing their best to keep their voices low but with little avail in the close quarters of her home. But now was not the time to dive into the complex details of their failed-relationship and unusual circumstances with their unborn child. They’d have plenty of time to talk, gossip and spread rumours later. All Xy wanted to focus on was allowing herself to have this one special moment with him and their baby, and pretend that everything was how it should’ve been all along. And once the balloon popped, the confetti fell and the pictures were taken, then she could snap back to reality. But if this was the only happy ending she was going to get, Xy wanted to indulge in blissful ignorance for as long as possible.

Looking up at him decked out in blue, Xyla’s perfectly painted pink lips curled up into a smile. “You look good - very dapper. But does the blue mean that you’re hoping for a boy? Or are you going to play it off like it’s just your favourite colour?” She teased as she let her hand fall to rest against his toned chest, her fingertips running across the soft material. “You look good. You look like ah - a dad. Like an nervous one that puts far too much product in his hair, but like a dad. You got dad vibes.” Her hands reached out to take the purple bouquet of flower he’d gotten her and let her eyes linger for a moment, her mind flashing back to her childhood in Chicago and thanking whichever higher power was looking over her that he hadn’t gotten her roses like everyone else. “Thank you,” Xy said quietly as a wave of timidness crashed over her. Receiving flowers from happy clients, her friends or family celebrating her latest wasn’t a rare occurrence, but it had been a while since she’d gotten flowers from a man. The purple petals elicited butterflies in her stomach she thought had long been put to rest, but quickly wiped the thought and her smile away. They might’ve been obligatory flowers, ones he’d picked up last minute because he didn’t want to show up empty handed to a room filled with people stacked against him.

Xyla’s lips pressed together in thought as his question hung in the air above them, the time ticking as people anxiously awaited the news of whether they’d have a new granddaughter, grandson, niece or nephew on the way. She could feel curious eyes burning into the skin of her back, but she hadn’t thought about anything beyond Asher showing up. She hadn’t allowed herself that luxury. But since he was here, willing and dressed for the occasion, maybe it was a sign they were moving in the right direction. That there was hope for their little family. “I want you there with me,” Xyla admitted, her brown eyes looking up pleadingly at him, similar to the way they had the other night. “I mean - I just want one normal thing to come from this day, and even if we’re not together, even if everyone’s got something to say about us, I just want one normal thing so I can look back on this day and not hate it,” she continued, growing frustrated at the idea of her standing alone in front of prying eyes while he stood in the back. “It’ll last a whole 2 minutes, and then I promise I won’t make you do anything else. That can be it if you want. You can leave after that, or I don’t know, stay. But I just want one thing to be right.” Xyla’s frustrated tangent was unexpected and unprovoked, but the stress of the event, endless questions from friends and family, the high-emotions of the last few days and her raging hormones resulted in word-vomit that showed no signs of stopping. All she needed was this. Just one thing in her entire pregnancy that was normal.

Looking over her shoulder, Xyla saw the big black balloon floating in the middle of her living room, surrounded by pastel pink and blue decorations. Her sisters had out-done themselves to the point it was almost comical and far too cliche to be anything meant for their middle-sister who’d always been the black-sheep of the family. Xyla could hear Quinn a few paces behind her, her foot tapping impatiently on the carpet as she waited impatiently and she lifted her eyes up to him, waiting for his answer despite already confirming that he’d be happy to be up there with her. Quinn had clearly heard their earlier conversation, because before another words left his lips, she was ushering them both through the congregation of guests up to their make-shift stage, leaving them standing awkwardly on either side of the balloon.

Xyla looked out to all her friends and family, eyes filling with tears at how surreal the moment felt. “Before we start this, can I just say that I was completely content with finding out what part this kid’s packing when they pulled it out of me,” she prefaced with a light laugh. Xyla peeked at Asher out of there corner of her eye and reached out a hesitant hand to him, looking for some comfort while standing in front of everyone she loved. She could see the nerves painted clear across his face and wondered if she’d made the right decision in asking him to come up with her. For a minute, she allowed herself to imagine being in front of his circle of friends and family after an explosive break-up, listening to all the sly whispers and questions surrounding her an their relationship. It was mortifying to say the very least. Xy gave his hand three gently squeezes and allowed her lips to curl up into a small smile. “And I’m sure we don’t need any introductions here, but this is Asher. Baby daddy extrodinare,” she said, re-introducing him to the room. Xy hoped that the cheerful smile painted on her lips would encourage others in the room to be open-minded about his reappearance, but then again, it was wrong to assume her inner circle wasn’t as out-spoken, opinionated and bold as she was.

He wasn’t sure if it hadn’t be apparent but he’d never attended one of these events. Surely, he’d received invitations from friends and clients but never actually care enough to be in attendance. But now ignorantly unaware of the proper etiquette, Asher couldn’t help but kick himself in the ass for not opting to go to at least one instead of sending a balloon bouquet or a card in place of his presence. Because nothing could have prepared him for the scattered zoo animals and fancy charcuterie. What the hell did animals have to do with babies anyways? Xyla’s compliment made him smile, quickly fading away with her next comment about the color. If he hadn’t been sweating before, he could now feel the fabric sticking to the small of his back tauntingly. “Great. Now I look like I’m pushing my patriarchal agenda in hoping my first born is a male to carry on my name.” He shook his head as he blurted out what he’d said. With every word Xyla said, Asher’s nervousness spiked. If this was how she was viewing him, was everyone else thinking the same thing? “Too much? I always wear this much product. Is it always too much? If that’s the case your parents definitely think I’m a douche, I definitely overcompensated with product when we went to Chicago,” He stammered while his eyes looked over at her parents. Her father standing ominous and menacingly in the corner, cradling a rocks glass filled with nothing but whisky. God, Asher could have used a drink in this moment to ease the anxious feeling that tricked him into thinking he was going to be sick at a moment’s notice. His hazel eyes then shot over to her mother who looked stunning, taking pictures of distant family members all huddled closely together before looking back down at Xy. 

“Already? I look like a dad already? I haven’t even started balding yet.. have I?” Asher reached out and put his hand on her waist as he shut his eyes gently. He needed to get a grip and for a moment holding her, no matter how minuscule the touch, seemed to be the only thing that would ease his scattered mind. “You’re welcome. It took me forever to find them yesterday. I had to go all the way to Jersey to this little florist because they seemed to be the only place that had purple flowers that weren’t roses. Jersey.” He shuttered at the mere word as he recalled his long, assistant-less journey to find this very bouquet. Asher wasn’t saying it to impress her, simply to distract from how his hand trembled and the sweat on his palms clung to her dress. 

As Xyla assured him that she wanted him up on the small platform with her popping the balloon, he released a breath he’d been holding as her sister’s eyes were glued to him. “Xy,” He finally said in an attempt to ease her own rambling. She was nervous, too, he could easily read. Even in front of her own friends and family, Xyla was secretly terrified of the event at hand. Truthfully there was only one thing that could have evoked this anxiety around the event as a whole and that him. His presence, the questions that surrounded it, everything about Asher’s existence in that moment. “If you want me up there, I’m there. Okay?” He assured her upon forcing their eyes to meet. His lips were softly frowning at her telling him he could leave and so forth. Did Asher want to be there, vultures circling and waiting to strike and defile his existence like an animal’s corpse? No. But did he want to be to prove that he could be everything Xyla wanted, what she deserved? Yes. Even it meant the possibility of the question that preceded. “I’ll even... stay and meet everyone.. one by one, if that’ll make today right. Perfect even.” Asher offered sweetly, wishing he could take it back as soon as it left his head though it was the right thing to say in the moment. But, it was a step in the right direction, even if he was stepping into the lion’s den. “You just say the word.”

The walk to the stage seemed to be the walk of shame to his execution. He was waiting to be pelted with tomatoes or perhaps splattered with pig’s blood like a seventies prom film. But Asher followed Xyla sheepishly nevertheless and took his spot on the side of the balloon opposite her. He tucked his moist hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched on his six-foot-three frame. It was no secret that he just wanted to shrink in this moment, be anything less than what he was. But Asher wasn’t anything more than a red flag, waving precariously in the wind to be stared at by everyone who viewed him as such.  A nervous laugh surpassed his lips as Xyla began talking to the room, his eyes glued to her. She looked stunning, the light from the windows hitting her in the perfect way and illuminating her growing figure. For a moment, he could feel a tear tickle his eye -- that was until she introduced him to the room. “Haha, yup. That’s me. I did it. Guilty.” Asher said awkwardly before holding up his hands with innocence as though the police had just instructed him to do so. Only pity laughs fell over the crowd, and no change in expressions from her judgmental family. Though his joke hadn’t necessarily gone over well, nor had he anticipated its delivery, he continued in the same way he rehearsed in the mirror the night before. “Anyways. I’m really happy to be here with all of you today. I know this was pretty unexpected but I really am humbled and ecstatic to bring a child into this world knowing it has so many people to care for and love it endlessly and unconditionally.” He sighed softly before looking over at Xyla, a smile seamlessly tugging on his lips. “And Xy --  you’re a devoted business woman, caring friend and over all kick-ass female. We’re both really lucky to have you. Truly.” Asher nodded. The last part hadn’t exactly been apart of his script but as he looked at the smile on her face, he couldn’t help but give her the recognition she deserved. 

Asher then picked up the two pins that sat with the intention to pop the large balloon that lingered between the two of them. He handed Xyla one, smiling at her as he did so. “Ready?” He asked as he cocked his eyebrows. Stomach churning and smiles staring up at them, Asher took one final breath before the countdown. Five. He looked at the balloon that stood between them. Once it popped, celebration would ensue. But shouldn’t they have been celebrating all along? Four. Time seemed to slow as he looked out at the sea of chanting mouths, phone camera pointed in their direction. Were they making their best effort to crop him out of their photos and videos? Were they all dedicated to making him feel as disposable as he already felt? Three. Asher looked at Butters who was scooped in some second cousin or co-workers arms, a nameless face to him. Was it normal to dress a dog in a onesie for these type of things? Why hadn’t he done more research? Why had he always scrolled past the gender reveal videos online? Two. Asher stared down at his hands, surprised that the pin was still present in his grasp considering the sweat that threatened its departure. For someone as social of he was, he’d never felt so outcasted than he did in that moment even when we was the center on attention. One. Asher’s hazel eyes flickered up to Xyla who wore a large smile on her pink lips. All of his prior thoughts quickly melted away as looked to her. All the worries washed away as he remember her admission from a few nights before. She loved him. Asher let the pin tug at the balloon, a chorus of happy screams flooding the room in conjunction with the sound of the balloon popping. 

It was pink. The pink confetti showered over the floor, even leaving a few straggling piece in the couple’s hair. It took Asher a second to process the entirety of the euphoric moment, jaw agape with joy he hadn’t been anticipating. It was a girl. Asher hadn’t entertained their baby’s gender up until this point, just thinking of their child as a future certainty rather than a being in its own right. But suddenly with knowledge of the confetti sparkling rosé against the toes of his expensive shoes, it was all coming together. They were going to have a little girl that would one day blossom to reflect the independent woman that Xyla was. It took him a few seconds to react but his first move was to gasp before pulling Xyla into his embrace, having no words beyond a joyous laugh as he squeezed her softly in his arms. “We’re having a girl!” Asher finally gawked, laughing softly in her ear before kissing her cheek. Suddenly the problems leading up to now hadn’t mattered, at least in his mind. He then pulled back, looking down at her as camera flashes poured over their complexions. In that moment he wanted to just tell her how he felt, that he loved her, but he wanted to let her have today be right.

[daddariodaily]

[xyla-v]

A gender reveal party had never been part of Xyla Villanueva’s plan for when she’d have kids. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know. But given that her pregnancy hadn’t been in the plans either, finding out the gender of her child was one small way she was able regain control. So, after weeks of arguing, Xyla’d allowed her sisters to organize her gender reveal party so long as it was small, and she didn’t have to do any of the actual planning. Those were her only conditions, with Rowan and Quinn quickly agreeing. Now, all she had to do was show up.

Xyla’s apartment had been transformed, her minimalist furniture and decorations amplified by everything pastel and zoo animals. Interesting choice of theme, she thought, but still found herself cooing at the tiny giraffes and cupcakes decorated with elephants. The party had been in full swing for an hour or so, with everyone from her friends and co-workers, to her friends and family from Chicago in attendance. Xyla’s father, whom she’d had a strained relationship with throughout her teen years, was standing idly by the kitchen table with a glass of whiskey in one hand. The table and most of the counter space in her kitchen housed a spread of everything from an expertly crafted charcuterie board, freshly baked pastries, her mothers infamous lasagna, homemade goodies and Xyla’s go-to favourites in the city. It was strange to see him surrounded by so many balloons and pastel coloured cartoon animals, but he was there, and that was all that mattered to Xyla. And that was more than she could say about something else.

Looking around the room, she noticed that everyone she loved was in attendance. Everyone except Asher. Given their last chaotic interaction, she’d allowed herself to believe that he would show up, that he would be there holding her hand and sharing in the excitement of din finding out the gender of their child growing in her belly. But a small part had been wary, and seemingly with good reason. Maybe he’d gotten lost. Maybe he’s stuck at the studio. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic. Xyla was listing off every possible excuse and reason in her head, but now that the party had been in full swing for nearly two hours, her list was dwindling. Maybe, he wasn’t going to show up?

“Xy, you ready?” Quinn asked, making her way excitedly over to her with Butters (who was dressed in a baby onesie) in her arms. “We got the balloon and everything set up!” The answer was simple; no. She wasn’t ready because he wasn’t there like she’d hoped he would be. The mama-to-be quietly excused herself with the intent to sneak away to her bedroom and give him one last call, but a tall, dark figure caught her eyes in the corner of the room.

Did he actually show? Was he actually there? Weaving herself through her friends and family, Xy walked towards Asher with a surprised smirk tugging at the edges of her lips. “Took you long enough,” she scolded, though her voice held no malice.

[asherhemmings]

Being awake at seven in the morning was never something joyous for Asher. But a night of tossing and turning alone on his king sized mattress had left him with no choice but to get up despite his eyelids desire to heavily glaze over. He stood at his coffee machine in his kitchen, boxers hung lowly on his hips as he tugged his lazy fingers through his messy brunette hair. As the machine hummed, the aroma of coffee beans filled the air, he immediately felt his body perk up. Today was the day of the gender reveal and the thought of being in front of Xyla’s entire family after his night spent on her couch left his mind racing with no signs of coming to a halt. Would the day be normal? Would menacing eyes be placed on him? Would questioning family members sink their hungry teeth into him? Would Xyla act like things were normal or would be throw him to the wolves? The questions were still present in his mind as he watched the slow drip of the hazel liquid into his cup. A bottle of whisky sat being the pot, malignant in nature at he eyed it. The temptation was there to soothe his anxious mind but in the interest of keeping peace, he took the scalding virgin liquid between his lips in an effort to begin his day.

It was embarrassing how long Asher spent looking in the mirror after his shower. His face was free of any stubble, clean cut and woven together by professionalism. He debated what to wear, wondering what Xyla would be wearing. His hazel eyes flickered to his phone as he debating texting her but, what if she was busy? Having a limbo, unread text message wondering what she was wearing wouldn’t have read favorable by unsuspecting eyes as her phone sat idly on the counter. So, Asher searched his closet using his best judgement. He could have gone casual; opting for a pair of jeans and a plain tee. But, that was unlike him in any regard. He could have went for a more formal look; a suit and tie decked to the nines with a Rolex. But in fear of looking like a tool, he dismissed that thought quickly. Asher slipped on some expensive dress slacks before tucking in a blue collared shirt into his jeans. As he stood at the looking glass, he sucked in a breath as he adjusted his collar. Did he look okay? The last thing he wanted to do was appear to be too much or too little in the midst of her family and friends. Though he’d met most of them before, he wasn’t sure what this reintroduction would be like in the midst of this pregnancy.

The ticking clock was mischievous as Asher finished styling his hair. As it grew closer to his time to leave, he couldn’t shake the uncertainty that maybe it’d be less embarrassing for her if he didn’t go. She had expressed wanting him there but did she actually want him there? The last thing they’d said to one another was screaming I love you’s, so what now? Asher made his way over to Xyla’s apartment, a bouquet of flowers in hand. He’d consciously recalled she didn’t like roses so he opted fo some purple flowers that resembled her of the ones in her backyard in Chicago. He slipped the card that he got her in his pocket to give to her later when they were alone. That was if they were going to be alone. Would they be alone? Asher took a deep breath as her made his way up to her apartment, seeing her passing through he approached her with the bouquet in his hand.

His eye’s nervously scanned the crowded room, sweat immediately pooling on his forehead upon impact. He leaned up, softly hugging her and pecking her cheek quickly as he continued to look around at the room that had surely reached maximum capacity. “Hey, sorry. This is going to sound super lame but, I didn’t know what to wear.” Asher let an embarrassed chuckle fall from his lips as he looked down bashfully at his outfit. His blue button up tucked into his black pants with a tie and watch. He ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair, looking down at her. “These are for you.” In her eyes, he probably appeared to be a nervous teen on his first date. In reality, he was a grown man talking to his pregnant ex in front of all her loved ones. “You look amazing--” Asher assured the girl before their conversation got cut off by Quinn, asking if she was ready before shooting him a less than welcoming glance. His breath got caught in his throat. “I know we haven’t really talked about this but, do you just want me to hang back? I can.. if you want. But if you want me up there, I will be. For you. I just don’t want to step on any toes. I’m just... happy to be here.” Asher quickly blurted. 

[xyla-v]

asherhemmings​:

“That’s not what? That’s not love?” Asher let the words hang lowly in the air between them. Its presence was menacing like the pouring smoke under your door in the midst of a house fire. Heavy and thick, black and foreboding as it pushed itself into the crack between them before it filled the room. He should have known better, known that any fire can have a backdraft when the oxygen is dwindling. But he let his next breath introduce air to the smoke filled mortgage between them, the fire only being consequentially more heinous than before. “Maybe that wasn’t love. But everything else, everything else I did for you was. I loved you. As much as you don’t want to believe, I did. You think I ever sent pictures of a girl back to Boston before? What? You think I’d waste my time making you feel special if you weren’t? Do you really think if any other girl waltzed into my office and said she was pregnant I’d come running?” Asher’s abrupt admission left him panting, flustered by what he’d just spoke into existence. He loved her. Still did surely beneath all the anguish and tenderness a pink plus sign on a pregnancy test had caused. His hands yearned to reach out for her, famished and eager for her touch. But, Asher knew she didn’t belong to him anymore and that he had to let her go for the time being.

And there she was again, mighty with eyes damp considerably beguiling despite their somberness. Her dainty fingers curling around his fist in conjunction with her pleas made him want to drop the keys. But he was familiar with this bargaining, instilling a false sense of hope that things were going to be okay to prevent him from acting impulsively. Asher pulled away, taking a step back from Xyla with a huff. “No.” He said simply as he wickedly shook his head from one side to the other. Asher had grown used to being the problem child rather than the comeback kid. The one who everyone looked down upon and this moment in particular was especially triggering a repressed damnation. “Why do you care? You want to raise our kid alone anyways.” His words were a flair in dramatics, a manipulation tactic to get to admit that she too loved him or at least cared for him. The jingle of his keys was coaxing and teased Xyla softly as he began to back away further and further until he reached the door. “I’ll see you at the shower, Xy.” He cocked an eyebrow in her direction as to challenge her once last time as he grabbed for the handle. 

Xyla felt her chest tighten and a quiet sob escape her lips, as he listed off the ways he’d tried to show his affection and how much he cared. He’d dressed up to be her date to countless launch parties, indulged in a long hike in the hot summer sun, surprised her with dinner after long nights at the office and spent more time with her than apart. Xyla didn’t know about the pictures he’d send to his grandfather back in Boston, proudly showing off his girl in New York to the one person that’d always cared for him. She desperately wanted to believe that she was the only one he’d do any of those things for, that she was the only one he’d drop everything for just to make sure she was okay, or to fight for a place in her life but still, she wasn’t sure. The months of heartache, confusion and doubt had tainted her already corrupted ideas of love and relationships, and she wondered if this was all that there was to it? If talking about her to his family was an equal trade-off to sleeping with other women. Xy didn’t know. But as he pulled away from her grasp and started towards the door, she didn’t have time to think.

“Asher stop! Stop!” Xyla begged, her voice pleading and panicked as she bolted towards him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, her grip like a cobra’s vice holding him to her with no intent on letting him go. Her heart beat erratically in her chest and big, heavy tears fell from her eyes as she abandoned all inhibitions and pride. “Don’t be fucking stupid. You can’t leave, you can’t fucking drive like this, you can barely walk in a straight line,” she scolded, her face buried into the cool material of his leather jacket. He smelled like top-shelf whiskey, cigarette smoke and sweat. And despite her brain telling her to pull away, to cut ties and let him leave if he wanted to, her heart was beating to a different drum.

“I love you, thats why. I love you,” she continued quietly, the words coming out as a strangled cry rather than a coherent confession. Xyla knew her confession had been expertly coaxed out by Asher, and he knew she’d felt this way all along, but she didn’t care. If it meant keeping him there with her, keeping him safe for just another couple hours until he was sober, she’d put her pride aside. And if he wanted to leave in the morning, then at least he knew how she felt.

Standing on her toes, she stayed hugging him, drinking in his scent until it was permanently ingrained in her brain and sobbing quietly into the crook of his neck, the scruff of his beard tickling her forehead. Xy made no moves for his keys or to push his hand away from the doorknob. Instead, she just stood there quietly allowing her tears to fall as she held onto him, begging him to stay.

[asherhemmings]

Asher’s eyes softened with sympathy, hazel hues overflowing with condolence. His breathing hitched as he heard her voice boom once more but instead of lunging at his with fists thundering against his built chest, Xyla was now snakes tightly around him pleading for him. His immediate reacting was confusion, his hands held up with innocence as he fought not to touch her until he processed the situation. Asher knew hormones were crazy. Pregnancy skewed a woman’s body chemistry unapologetically in turn making them feel a heightened sense of emotion that almost seemed exaggerative at time. But, he’d the rainbow of her emotion tonight. From anger, to sympathetic, to a momentary calm before crumbling into sadness. Asher’s tongue clicked sadly, wrapping his arms around her growing frame as she bawled, rubbing soothing circles on her back that was tensed with tangible knots. They’d surely developed from the stress both physical and emotional and Asher certainly wasn’t helping the pain. And then she said it. His muscular hand halted in its tracks, breath stopping almost completely. Asher blinked with uncertainty. Has she really said it back? Or was it a drunken delusion? But the more Xyla curled into him, the tighter her grip grew, he realized this was his reality. A girl who loved him despite his vices. A child in the equation who held such power in bringing them back together. This child could be deemed a bastard by those who looked down upon their premarital decisions but their child was on bred out of love. It may have been chaotic and unconditional love but it was love nevertheless. Their love. “Shh..” Asher hushed upon coming to, pressing his lips hesitantly against her forehead as he squeezed Xyla softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — I’m sorry.” I shouldn’t have tried to leave. I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk. I shouldn’t have cheated. I shouldn’t have made you less extraordinary than you are. I shouldn’t have let you fall in love with me. The possibilities were endless to the subject of his sentence but he opted for an apology as he pecked her warm forehead once more. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?” He whispered before leading her over to her bedside and cautiously laying her down in the same way she had been before his destructive introduction. Asher pulled the covers over her with a sigh before cupping her face with his hand, stroking her cheek softly with his thumb. “I’ll — I’ll be on the couch.. if you need anything. Just.. give me a shout.” Asher’s voice was weak though he tried to speak deeply to hide the lump of emotion that was tugging at his Adam’s apple. He then leaned over and pecked her forehead, letting his lips linger for a few long seconds before flipping off her switch and disappearing into the hallway. The walk from the hall to the living room felt foreign, like he was doing the walk of shame that he wasn’t supposed to be doing. He sunk onto the couch with a long huff, Xyla’s perfume wafting up from the cushions upon landing. This very couch held far too many memories for him to bare at the moment. Their first night together where they discussed a fake business and shared their first kiss. The countless nights eating Chinese take-out and binge-watching movies. Even the nights like tonight where their bickering would result in him being in the doghouse, banished to the couch. His brunette curls fell back upon a stray throw pillow as he kicked off his boots. The clattering off his boots on the floor was followed by the clicking of a familiar dog’s paws on the floor which cause a weak smile to tug on the corners of his lips. Asher quickly scooped up Butters before haphazardly pulling a blanket over them. He knew he wouldn’t sleep much that night but he stayed nevertheless to appease Xyla’s worrisome mind. If this was going to be the first step in the right direction for the couple, Asher was willing to take it.

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

With the way he pulled his arms from around her and slipped on his clothing, this night hadn’t gone the way Asher hoped it would. She watched as he walked into the centre of her bedroom, eyebrows furrowed and jaw tense, with tear-filled eyes. He was strong and powerful, and while put on her best performance to play off that she was better on her own, that she didn’t want him there, she couldn’t hide the pain on her face.  After Sterling and Jimmy, Xyla vowed to play the field and not get caught up in anything real, anything that was remotely close to a relationship. But then along came Asher in the dead of the night, his bright eyes glistening under the glow of the street lamp in front of his studio, and that’s all it took. That was all it took for Xy to abandon all the rules and regulations she’d set in place for herself and give in completely to whatever it is was happening between them. She happily brought him along to launch parties, tagged along to his, spend days and nights at his apartment, only for him to follower her back to her place the next day. She was in it with him, and perhaps that was why it all hurt so much. Because despite everything that happened before him, he made her willing to try again.

His words were sharp and painful, cutting through her like a knife as she relived the scene in his studio. “I don’t care what they are to you! I don’t care if they’re your assistant, receptionist, business partner or some chick you met in a bar. I don’t care how many times you walked up and down these streets waiting for me to walk Butters, or come home from work. It doesn’t change the fact that you were so quick to replace me with the first girl that came along and was ready to drop their pants for you! You can’t claim to care about me when that’s the shit you pull. That’s not lo-“ she stopped, running her hands through her long dark hair, heavy tears falling from her eyes. That’s not love. But then again, how was she supposed know? Xy wasn’t sure she even knew what love felt like. “What was there to talk about when I saw everything I needed to see that night? It was perfectly clear to me,” she said quietly to herself,  head still in her hands.

The jingling of his keys filled the quiet of her bedroom and her deep brown eyes shot open. He drove? Carefully, she pushed herself off the bed and waddled towards him, a hand resting on her lower back for support while the other reached for his keys. Her legs felt weak and her back sore from nights tossing and turning in bed, but still, she swayed in her feet, hoping but not expecting him to listen. “Asher, are you fucking insane? Do you have a death wish? Do you want to get thrown into jail? You’re not driving home. Give me your keys,” she said, her eyes still filled to the brim with teas and cheeks stained with emotion. “You can sleep on the couch until you sober up, or I’ll call you a cab to go home. But you’re drunk and you can’t drive yourself.” Xy reached out and curled her small hand around his holding the keys and looked up at him, eyes pleading.

“Just give me your keys, Asher. Just stay the night and, I don’t know,” she sighed, not knowing what the future held for them beyond the next couple hours. “You can be mad at me all you want. Whatever. Just don’t be an idiot.”

“That’s not what? That’s not love?” Asher let the words hang lowly in the air between them. Its presence was menacing like the pouring smoke under your door in the midst of a house fire. Heavy and thick, black and foreboding as it pushed itself into the crack between them before it filled the room. He should have known better, known that any fire can have a backdraft when the oxygen is dwindling. But he let his next breath introduce air to the smoke filled mortgage between them, the fire only being consequentially more heinous than before. “Maybe that wasn’t love. But everything else, everything else I did for you was. I loved you. As much as you don’t want to believe, I did. You think I ever sent pictures of a girl back to Boston before? What? You think I’d waste my time making you feel special if you weren’t? Do you really think if any other girl waltzed into my office and said she was pregnant I’d come running?” Asher’s abrupt admission left him panting, flustered by what he’d just spoke into existence. He loved her. Still did surely beneath all the anguish and tenderness a pink plus sign on a pregnancy test had caused. His hands yearned to reach out for her, famished and eager for her touch. But, Asher knew she didn’t belong to him anymore and that he had to let her go for the time being.

And there she was again, mighty with eyes damp considerably beguiling despite their somberness. Her dainty fingers curling around his fist in conjunction with her pleas made him want to drop the keys. But he was familiar with this bargaining, instilling a false sense of hope that things were going to be okay to prevent him from acting impulsively. Asher pulled away, taking a step back from Xyla with a huff. “No.” He said simply as he wickedly shook his head from one side to the other. Asher had grown used to being the problem child rather than the comeback kid. The one who everyone looked down upon and this moment in particular was especially triggering a repressed damnation. “Why do you care? You want to raise our kid alone anyways.” His words were a flair in dramatics, a manipulation tactic to get to admit that she too loved him or at least cared for him. The jingle of his keys was coaxing and teased Xyla softly as he began to back away further and further until he reached the door. “I’ll see you at the shower, Xy.” He cocked an eyebrow in her direction as to challenge her once last time as he grabbed for the handle. 

[wrnbrn]

[mingrose]

What happens when I talk to myself

[asherhemmings]

xyla-v​:

Once Xyla called it quits with Asher, storming out of his studio and slamming the door on her way out, she had no plans to look back. There were no fleeting ideas on forgiveness or redemption, no. Instead, she was going to keep her head up and move on with her life n the hopes of forgetting Asher Hemmings and every little thing that he’d impacted in her life. That was her plan. And despite the wrench thrown in her direction in the form of a quickly growing baby, she was sticking to it. However, as they sat in her bed, late at night and sifting through the contents of her keepsake box, Xyla, for a brief second, allowed herself to think about what life would’ve been like if they hadn’t broken up.

They’d be under the covers with Butters asleep by their feet, looking through online databases full of the most popular baby names of 2020, perusing baby catalogues and deciding on what colour to paint the nursery. It was all very story-book and something straight out of a suburban mothers dreams, but for a second, Xyla imagined they would’ve had a shot at all that. At happiness. But before she would fall further into her daydream, his words brought her back to reality. Gone were the pastel coloured walls and debates over names like Isabella and Mason. Instead, all that was left was her clothes strewn about her bedroom floor and the scent of whiskey filling the air as he wrapped his arms around her. It felt strange, wrong even given that her walls had shot straight up, high as the sky would allow, leaving him on the outside of her fortress with no way inside despite the sweet words that rolled of his tongue, coaxing her into him with every syllable.

Clearing her throat, she pulled her eyes from his and looked down at the sonogram in their hands. “Ice cream isn’t my go-to snack, and I’m certain you wouldn’t understand half the things happening right now. So, Rowan is my person to talk about all the emotional stuff,” she quickly replied. “Or Quinn. Or Louisa. They’re my people.” Her words were sharp, defensive with the intent to injure and maim. She didn’t want to hear him list off all the things he would do for her because, to her, they were nothing but empty promises meant to keep her holding onto him despite knowing she was better off on her own. They were drunken vows designed to capture her during this moment of weakness. But she was not going to budge - no matter how much she wanted to just let him in.

“I’m - It doesn’t matter, Asher,” Xyla replied with a huff to his pleading words. In truth, she wasn’t with anyone, and hadn’t been with anyone but him since then. But she didn’t want him to know that she’d been holed up at home, struggling to sleep, uncomfortable and sick all these weeks while he’d been entertaining hoards of people and slipping his tongue down their throats. She wanted to make him think someone was home with her rubbing her feet, bringing her tea in the morning and helping her do laundry when she didn’t have the energy to do it anymore. But his eyes, his big brown pleading eyes sucked her right back in.

“Look, I’m sorry about your dad, I really am.” she said after a minute before pulling her hands from his. “And I’m sure you.. mean well by coming here and breaking into my apartment. But I put my faith in you before and got burned. So forgive me if I’m not so eager to let you back into my life, our life,” Xy continued, her words harsher as she thought about their future. “I’ve been fine all this time on my own. I figured out what stops the nausea, what food to avoid, where to buy a pregnancy pillow and all of that on my own. So if you want to be here for the kid when they get here, then sure. Whatever. But you can’t just barge in here, ask me if I’m single and demand to be part of my life again!” As she spoke, her words grew sharper and her voice became thick with emotion.

“We can’t just go back to how things used to be just ‘cause we have a kid on the way,” Xy said, turning her head away from him and towards her headboard where he couldn’t see the tears pooling in her eyes. “You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t fucking knocked up, so let’s just skip all that dating crap. Okay?”

The words that fell from her lips into the air, unable to retracted only assured him of one thing. She didn’t need him. She hadn’t needed him because she had a support team behind her for everything she needed and then some. Asher couldn’t say he wasn’t happy that her sisters and Louisa were around to hold her hand through all of this but selfishly he wanted it to be. But with his ignorance about all things that revolved around pregnancy in addition to his ever so convenient presence, he didn’t seem like a good candidate for support. Just a moment ago, he felt in control of the moment having her back in his embrace as he gently pecked her forehead that was hot with anger, feeling it cool at the mere graze of his touch. But as Xyla weaseled her way through the cracks in his manipulative structure, he couldn’t help but scoff. He listened to all of her words, understanding them all and their intent even in his inebriated state. Selfishly, Asher wanted her to beg for him to be her in her life. He wanted to hear her soft voice asking him to stay, to hold her and to be all the support that she needed. But she was strong as she’d always been, walls up higher than he could have ever anticipated. He didn’t come equipped with the tools for the job so instead he sat dumbfounded by the task at hand. 

Asher unraveled himself from her and rose to his feet as he shook his head. He leaned over and gathered his shirt before slipping it over his ruffled hair and then his leather jacket. He shook his head, tongue running itself along the inner rim of his lip with annoyance. He’d listened submissively to all she had to say during their conversation on her bed and now he couldn’t fight the urge to talk. “Are you sorry, though? Are you sorry?” Asher asked, irritated by her rather condescending tone or what he perceived it to be. He ran his fingers through his curls, taking a deep breath as he did so. As she called his bluff on the so-called dating crap, he couldn’t contain himself. Suddenly, they were back to fighting again just like clockwork. “What? You think just because another girl had my cock in her mouth I stopped caring about you?” His vulgar language was far more harsh than the romantic message he was trying to get across. Given his drunken state, he continued on without batting an eyelash. “No. They’re sluts to me. And If you think I haven’t thought about showing up here and rummaging through your closet everyday since you left, you’re fucking delusional. Do you know how many times I walked here from my studio? It’s 4,641 steps from my studio to here, roughly about two and half miles I’ve walked the Manhattan streets drunk hoping to run into you outside or hoping to build up the courage to come up and fucking talk to you. But look at you--” He held his hand out to her, raising his voice. In his mind, all of the things he was saying were normal though they were far from it. But Asher was far too damaged to truly know what a healthy relationship looked like. “You wouldn’t have wanted to talk to me. You still don’t want to fucking talk to me because you think you’re better than me and you always have.” He took his keys out of his pocket, shaking his head in intoxicated disbelief. “Just say I never fucking mattered. Make it easier on yourself. Cut your loses and pretend its someone else’s. Because that’s what you want to do, right? Pretend I don’t exist?”