Chapter 2
682 Words
Asher Donovan woke up with the taste of blood in his mouth.
It was 6:15 a.m. on the rugby field. During practice, Theo’s shoulder had smashed straight into his face during a drill. It was a clean hit but it was just part of the game. No anger, no grudges, no resentment.
He spat on the wet grass, saw the red stain, and laughed it off. The sting faded quickly. He jumped back up and kept moving.
The field felt alive in the early morning. Boots tore through the grass, Shouts echoed around the empty stands, Finn’s speaker blasted loud music that cut through the cold air. Asher sprinted down the sideline, caught Finn’s pass, took another hit to the ribs, and still managed to pass the ball to Theo despite the sharp pain from the hit. The play was fast and smooth. Everything aligned.
The whistle blew. It signaled water break.
Asher dropped to one knee, breathing hard. His jersey was soaked with sweat. He poured water over his head and shook it off. The cold air cleared his mind for a moment.
But the heavy feeling in his chest didn’t leave.
After May…
After graduation, rugby would be over. No more captain’s band. No more early morning practices. His father’s construction company was waiting for him. Office meetings, Spreadsheets and all that, the family name printed on every project.
His dad’s voicemail from last night still sat unopened.
“You’re doing great, son. Being captain suits you. But remember, the company will need that same leadership soon. Call me as soon as you can.”
“As soon as you can” always meant “right now.”
Asher never called back immediately though. He decided that silence was easier.
He slapped Theo’s back. “Nice hit.”
Theo laughed. “You enjoy getting knocked down, huh?”
“Only from you,” Asher replied, smiling.
The team laughed. No one noticed the weight he carried inside. And that was how he liked it.
By 9:45 a.m., he was in the gym, lifting dumbbells until his muscles ached. Sweat ran down to the cut on his lip. He wiped his face and checked his phone.
Housing Services.
He picked up.
“Mr. Donovan? There’s been a flood in one of the dorms. We’re placing an emergency roommate with you. A Female student. Fine arts major. Name’s Vivienne Kane. She’ll arrive this afternoon.”
Asher paused. “Today?”
“Yes. Thanks for helping.”
The call ended.
He stood there for a moment, surprised. A girl. Moving into his apartment. Today.
His place was a mess. Old rugby bags everywhere. Dirty clothes from his gym workouts. Huge piles of boxes stacked in corners. The spare room looked totally terrible.
He imagined some quiet art student walking in, seeing the chaos, and instantly hating him.
He sighed, grabbed his bag, and headed home.
By noon, he was cleaning. Bags into closets. Shoes by the door. Boxes shoved away. Clothes taken to the laundry. He wiped down the furniture and opened the windows to let in fresh air. He made coffee and left an extra mug on the counter.
The spare room looked better now. Clean sheets. Empty desk. Bright sunlight pouring through the window.
Good light, he thought. Artists probably needed that.
He showered, changed clothes, and left for class.
A few hours later, everything changed.
He didn’t know yet that he would soon open his door to a girl holding painting tubes like weapons, with storm-gray eyes that would shake him to his core.
He didn’t know that the sound of her brush moving across canvas would stop him in his tracks.
He didn’t know that one look at her painting would hit him harder than any tackle ever had.
He didn’t know that after that moment, his heart would never quite beat the same way again.
But the tight knot in his chest — the one he had carried for years — already felt a little lighter.
And for the first time, it had nothing to do with rugby.
- Writer
