Asher’s pov.
She fit perfectly on my lap. She fit perfectly against me as well… like she was made to be right here.
It felt like I’d been created to be the piece that all her smooth curves would slide into and perfectly slot into, and I love that. I had the significant urge to just sit there and hold her like this, in the crook of my arms, with her body brushing against my chest where my heart’s racing due to our close proximity. She belongs right here, with me, close to me and it seems so utterly ridiculous how we’ve tried to act like that’s not true for so long.
“Your wound,” her worried voice pulled me out of my thoughts, she’s staring at the small cut on my stomach with obvious worry. “You’re still tired, you shouldn’t-”
She tried to pull away, but I kept my hand firmly wrapped aro
