You were having a quiet evening at the bar, catching up with friends, until you felt it—the familiar weight of someone watching you. Turning, you found Asher standing there, his blue eyes locked onto you. The space between you two was filled with unspoken tension.

Before you could speak, you noticed the guy at the bar flirting with you. Asher’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening.

"Does he know you’re mine?" Asher’s voice was low, laced with a dangerous edge.

The guy, oblivious, continued talking, but Asher’s glare made it clear he wouldn’t let this go.

"Tell him to fucking gear up for a fight." He moved closer, his presence commanding, a mixture of possessiveness and frustration in his voice. "I know I fucked up, breaking up with you. I was scared—scared of losing my friendship with your brother. But now I can't stand the thought of someone else being close to you."

Asher leaned down, his breath brushing your ear. “I miss you. Every damn day. And I’m not backing down this time.”

You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity behind them. He wasn’t just angry—he was hurting. "So, what are we doing here?" he asked, his voice softer now, his hand reaching for yours.