Fire and Ice {Rosalie Hale}

•05•

Asher's POV

After talking Rosalie into letting me get to know her, the next two weeks went pretty smoothly. I would spend my mornings talking to her, trying to get to know more about her. I had learned the basics. Her favorite color was red, hence her cherry red BMW. She loved cars and auto mechanics, apparently she was the one to inform her family when there were problems with their cars.

She also loved music. Her favorite genre being classical. I was more of a rock type of guy but I listened to some classical music to try and impress her with a conversation and it seemed to work. Her favorite subject in school was English and her least favorite was Biology. She told me these things but whenever I tried to bring up deeper questions, she would always answer vaguely or ignore me flat out.

But despite that, it was safe to say Rosalie Hale and I were becoming fast friends. I had discovered she was in my English class, along with her twin brother, Jasper, which I had after lunch.

I had gym with Emmett and Eric was right, the larger male was pretty competitive. I made sure to try and be on his team, because even though I was good at some games, he was better. Emmett was actually a nice guy. I talked to him once in the locker rooms and he reminded me a lot of Eric. He was a jokester and he found almost everything to be funny. He teased me about having a crush on his sister even though I tried to assure him I only saw her a friend.

Which was a lie. I wanted to be so much more with Rosalie Hale but I knew that would be pushing it. I was still a random Southside kid and she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. There was no way she'd want anything more than friendship with me. And I was okay with that.

"Hey, where'd you go?" that familiar angelic voice brought me from my thoughts and I turned my head to see Rosalie looking at me, with a look that was a cross between annoyance and concern. Only my Rosalie could pull off a look like that.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about dinner with my brother," I said, shrugging casually as I looked back at the Biology textbook that lay open between us. We were currently in a study room in the library, preparing for an upcoming exam we had in Biology.

It was our lunch period. It was either study here, or try to study in the cafeteria. Rosalie had suggested we go to our spot under the bleachers but I knew the bleachers was where most Southsiders ate their lunch. I didn't want people to know I talked to Rosalie the way I do. It would be a whole situation and I didn't need a situation.

"Oh. How'd that go?" Rosalie questioned silently. I had told Rosalie about the sour relationship I had with my brother. About how tough it was to be around him sometimes because I knew he blamed me for all of the problems he had in his life.

I had ranted to Rosalie for a solid hour after my brother had yelled at me in the car for something I didn't do. I was angry in Biology and sat down silently, refusing to talk to anyone and Rosalie knew something was wrong. So she convinced the teacher to set us free early and she sat with me outside under the bleachers and listened to me rant. She didn't say anything, she just let me complain and let my anger out.

And when I was done she offered me a hanky because I had been crying, and we walked back into the school like nothing happened. Rosalie was the first person I had ever cried to since I was 15. Now she knew whenever I had to deal with my brother for long periods of time, something would normally come out of it.

Take last night for example, I had to have dinner with him last night. I had been spending my most of my time at Eric's. I was avoiding my brother. He was always annoyed or angry with me and I couldn't take it sometimes. But last night, he demanded I come home and have dinner with him. The first 10 minutes were okay. Then he started complaining about how the school continued to call him and tell him about the two classes I missed.

He told me I was being immature and irresponsible for missing classes and that I needed to grow up. He complained that he was trying to keep us together because it was what our parents would have wanted but if I continued to act out, he would have no choice but to send me away. He then proceeded to tell me that my actions were what caused our parents to die.

I didn't want to fight with him and so I stood up and walked to my bedroom, spending the rest of the night in there.

"Pretty terrible," I said truthfully. I looked over at Rosalie's paper and I copied down what she was writing, hoping she didn't ask me anymore questions.

"What happened?" She questioned and I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I didn't look at Rosalie, instead I kept my eyes on the paper before me.

"He called me immature and blamed me for the death of our parents. It was nothing new. I knew he blamed me anyways so I don't care. I blame myself," I shrugged casually before returning to write.

"Asher," Rosalie said, I refused to look at her, "Asher," she said my name firmly and I turned my head slowly to look at her. She was looking at me with an indescribable look in her eyes, her face was blank as usual but her golden eyes shown with something I had never seen in them before, "Your parents' deaths weren't your fault," she said firmly and I bit my tongue to keep from responding when she shot me a slight glare, "You didn't do anything wrong. Your brother is wrong to accuse you of something you had no control of."

"But it was my fault, Rose," I said, leaning back against my chair. I sat my pen down and looked at the paper in front of me as I continued to speak, "I...I had gotten into an argument with my father. He had caught me hanging around the Vipers. He told me I was going to end up in jail or dead. He called me stupid and said I was making awful decisions that were hurting my mother. I was in the phase of my life where I didn't care what they said. I just wanted to have fun, be free. And the Vipers made me feel free. I had said some awful things to my father that day and I stormed out," I stopped speaking for a moment, running a hand through my hair, "I'm not sure I've told you this but I was adopted by my parents when I was only 1. They loved me like I was there real son though. I had everything I wanted that they could afford and some things they couldn't afford. We weren't poor but we definitely weren't rich either, but my parents still spoiled me rotten. And that day...I told my dad that he wasn't even my real father and he should stop acting like it. I told him that if he and my mother were to die I wouldn't even care. My last words to my father...face to face was just that and I regretted it ever since."

"That still doesn't mean their deaths," Rosalie said and I shook my head silently.

"It was...after I had left...I went to a race. It was The Vipers vs the Northside. To race around here was like signing your own death warrant. It's illegal, the pigs are always right there to grab you if they see you. But I was stupid and I raced anyways. I was the only one who got caught. They took me to the county jail and I had to call my parents so they could pick me up. I waited for hours for them. I thought they weren't going to come...it wasn't until a police officer came to cell and told me about the accident that I even knew they had died."

Rosalie was silent now. She probably thought I was a monster. She blamed me too. It was my fault so I didn't blame her. I looked down at my lap, clenching my jaw silently.

"Asher," Rosalie spoke my name and it was the softest she had ever said it. I didn't spare a glance at her. I didn't want to see the disgust in her eyes. I tensed when I felt a cold hand grab my chin and I felt myself shiver. She was freezing. She definitely needed to buy a set of gloves or something. I felt her turn my head and I looked at her silently, not daring to speak. She looked me in the eyes, gold meeting blue in a locked gaze, "It's not your fault," she said again.

And I believed her. I nodded my head silently as tears filled my eyes. I felt my heart break slightly and I soon found myself cradled in her arm. I was angled awkwardly, my back bent so that my face was pressed into her chest. She had her arms wrapped around me gently, as if she were afraid she was going to break me. I wrapped my arms around her waist as I let my tears fall silently.

We didn't say anything. We didn't have to. This was perfect enough for the both of us. The silence was what we sought comfort in. The silence made us, us. And we were perfect.