Ash is a fashion model, not by choice but the desire of his projecting mother. People think he's too cocky for his own good, judging him based on what he posts online. But Ash hates the brush he's been painted with, along with the stereotypes of the...
delicious: (adjective) 1. highly pleasant to taste
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Working with Ash makes the week go stupidly so fast, that when it rolls around to Friday I internally whine. Of course having to do work and break a sweat in this old ass manor isn't what I aspire to be doing, but being with Ash makes it bearable.
Especially the quick stolen kisses and then the kisses that lead to clothes being removed.
I'm surprised at the amount of work we've got done, we're easily distracted but then work twice as hard to make sure that Carol doesn't question anything. She hasn't so far and that's all I care about.
It's back to Friday and I arrive at the manor early, earlier than Ash because I said I would and I've done that every day this week apart from Monday and yesterday because we had the day off.
If anything, I wanted to get to placement early, my father pissed me off last night and I didn't want to see him today. I don't want to see him at all, especially when he's in the mood. That bullying mood which I cannot stand.
There is no point in trying to get him to relate, it's best to go to bed and call it a day.
Ash arrives a few minutes after I do, there is a warm smile plastered across his face and I can't help but feel he's thinking the same thing as me.
Being with him makes my day.
We get to work because sometimes when we think we've done enough work, we decide to hangout at the end of the day and chat before we are signed out. But Ash keeps looking at me in a certain way and I feel in the spotlight.
Ash dusts off his gloves and then undoes some of his buttons to get in a breeze. "You've been super quiet today."
"I have?"
He hums and steps closer. "Is something on your mind?"
I blink and then think back to last night. Maybe I have been quiet because arguments with my dad usually floor me and I end up getting frustrated at the world. But instead of taking it out of him, I'm just being quiet today.
"Just had a rough night with my dad," I admit.
Ash's lips slip into a frown. "Was it bad?"
"He's just been pushing me so much lately and he's making me feel uncomfortable and weak," I find myself saying and Ash nods at my words. "He just treats me like shit and I always end up having a bad night's sleep because of it."
"Whatever he says," Ash's voice is gentle and he steps closer. "You should ignore him because you know it's not true. He's only trying to get a reaction out of you so you can show him some anger, maybe that's what he wants. Push your buttons so you use your anger when you box."
I never thought of it like that.
A hand moves to brush the back of my head and I stare down at the floor. It makes so much sense if he is trying to get the worst out of me to make sure I hit my best. So my anger is at the forefront of my mind when I fight, pushing me to my limits.
