Lips Red As Blood

53 |

For a little over two weeks, Asher stays trapped in his bedroom. He only comes out when he needs to use the bathroom or if he's starving, wearing nothing but a black T-shirt and a blank expression. 

The first week, Cora left him alone, knowing that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Yet when Asher refused to get out of the house, let alone his room, always hovering near the window with a faraway look and barely eating plus sleeping to the point that he looked almost dead — pale skin and sunken eyes with dark circles underneath them — Cora resorted to begging. 

"Eat," she implored, shoving a strawberry soufflé under Asher's face. "You can't starve yourself. Please." 

Asher didn't speak, nor did he take the food. The next few days, Cora tried again, bringing all kinds of tantalizing foods. 

"Try this," Cora coaxed, unpacking the cupcake from its neatly packaged box. The cupcake was chocolate flavored, with light brown cream glistening perfectly under the dim light. The sprinkles were delicately tossed onto the cream, white chocolate forming into intricate lily pads. Gold leaves, made of hardened syrup, topped the dessert. "You'll like it." 

Asher turned away from the window, shadows catching the angles of his face. His gaze fell upon the receipt for the cupcake. After a week, Asher finally spoke. "Get out and don't buy me desserts anymore," he said quietly. 

"But you're going to starve, Asher." Cora lifted the cupcake. "One bite. Please." 

He knocked the cupcake out of Cora's hand and the cream splattered against the wall. "Get the hell out and don't ever bother me again," Asher spat, venom ebbing in his voice. 

Cora has never heard such hate in Asher's voice, but when she did, it scared her. So the second week, she stopped coming into his room completely. 

On the verge of the third week, Asher did his weekly shuffling out of the room to use the restroom. Cora gasped. He looked even worse than a week. 

Now, Cora stands in front of Asher's bedroom door, squaring her shoulders. If he keeps this up, he'll reach a low level of unhealthiness. Then she barges into his room. 

Asher glares up, looking beautifully devastating. He looks like a fallen angel came alive, made of flesh and bones. Cora swallows. "Get up." Cora forces the words out. "We're going out." 

"No," Asher says, voice harsh. "I'm not going anywhere." 

Cora feels the familiar defeat sinking through her bones, her shoulders slumping. No, Cora thinks, meeting his piercing gaze. I'm not going to give up. 

"You're so goddamn stubborn, you know that?" Cora bursts out, before wincing. She meant to be more gentle and careful with her words. Still, it's effective, since Asher's attention is wholly hers. "I didn't say anything, because you were obviously mourning, but you can't keep this up." 

His lips thinned. 

"I'm worried, okay? So is Harper. Hell, even my mom is worried and she barely knows you!" Cora rants. "You barely leave your room and you're practically a skeleton." 

Asher coolly looks away. She's slowly losing his attention. "We're going out," she repeats, before grabbing a hat and clean clothes. "Put this on." 

He's not reacting. Cora feels exasperation rising through her. "Asher, come on." Cora frowns, as he continues staring into nothingness. "Leticia wouldn't want this." 

His head snaps up, pinning her with a hard stare, but Cora doesn't care, barreling through her words. "Leticia wouldn't want you staying in your room with no fresh air, moping around, not sleeping and not eating."