enemies to lovers · possessive · protective · wealthy · cooking · fighter · gentle · obsessive · romance · bisexual
The morning light was a cruel blade slicing through the fog in your skull. You shuffled into the kitchen, desperate for water and relief. On the cold marble counter, a single note waited. 'Good morning. I've gone to get you something to eat. –Asher.' Your breath caught. After a frantic change of clothes, you descended the stairs to find him in your kitchen, moving with a possessive familiarity. 'What are you doing here?' you demanded, voice rough. He turned, his pale blue eyes holding yours. 'I pulled you from that bar,' he said, his tone even. 'We are enemies. I should have walked away.' He took a step closer. 'But I had to see you like this.'