《Eros Aesthetic Above》

She glared at the bastard. Her teeth gritting, her jaw jumping. This is unbelievable. Her eyes narrowed more.

"Ashley, would you please stop glaring at him, you're scaring me." Casey said, taking a bite out of her burger.

Jason reached over and stole a fry from Ashley's plate and popped it into his mouth.

"Did you not—?" Casey paused, "—Jason just stole your fries, are you not going to do anything about it?"

Ashley clenched her fists, "Look at him, enjoying his lunch. I hope he chokes on it.

"Okay, seriously, what hap—?"

"He didn't come back to the dorm. Bloody coward," she paused, "—stop me, because I'm about to walk over there and bump my fries on his stupidly gorgeous black hair."

"Did she just say stupidly gorgeous? In the same sentence?" Blake said, pointing his fork at Ashley.

Ally rolled her eyes and patted Ashley's shoulder, "Now you know how I feel about him, minus the stupidly gorgeous part." She said and snickered when she turned her towards her before a few chuckles escaped her lips.

"Am I supposed to be intimidated or humoured?" She asked, chuckling as the look in Ashley's eyes. She couldn't scare a fly with that look.

"I—you—ugh!" Ashley stuttered before she stabbed a few unlucky fries and popped them into her mouth.

She then suddenly turned to Casey with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you say something about my fries being stolen?" She asked.

Casey smirked and looked at Jason who stiffened, his eyes widening and he vigorously shook his head. She scoffed and turned back to Ashley.

"Nope, I was just trying to get you to stop throwing daggers at Eros."

Ashley turned back to his table at the mention of his name but scowled. He wasn't there anymore. She turned her head in time to see him walk out the hall, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders as tense as ever.

She stood up then and made her way towards the exit, completely ignoring Casey's question and the curious gazes from nosy people who just couldn't mind their own business. She couldn't blame them though.

Hell, apparently she was one of them.

She spotted his retreating back turning into a corner down the hallway and she quickened her pace. She followed him, turning into a corner, her mind momentarily drifting to her first day when she followed him intending to ask him for directions to the dorm. She shook her head.

"Hey!" She called once she made the corner.

He froze mid step and slowly turned, facing her with a cocked eyebrow.

He blinked.

"You have some explaining to do." she said, once she was a hand's length in front of him with her arms crossed.

He frowned, a genuinely confused look on his face which lasted for a split second before he went blank.

"Do I?" He asked, looking over her head at the empty hallway that lead back towards the student center's food court.

"I—," she paused, frowning, "—you know what I want from you."

"I do not."

She pursed her lips and waited for him to get on with it.

He was slowly growing irritated as she expectantly gazed at him; not making an effort to clarify herself.

Ashley nibbled on her lip, her eyes narrowing before she suddenly blew up,

"Why the hell was your shirt bloody? Where did you get the gush on the side of your face that night? Who are they? Why do you need to have a gun? Why did you take it with you? Why was there shots fired that night? Where did you and your little shıts run off to? Were you connected to the shooting? Why was it that minutes after you and the guys left the dorm room the shooting stopped? What the actual fuck, Eros?" She rumbled, her gaze holding his own, refusing to let this go. She needed to know. It was driving her mad.

He frowned and looked ahead, over her head, his eyes narrowed.

"I will say this once," He begun, his deep voice bouncing off the walls of the empty hallway, "—do not get involved." He finished, his gaze lowered to her, his eyes as dead as ever.

Ashley's right eye twitched.

"Are you actually—so, you expect me to not question you about this? Eros, whether you like it or not, we're roommates. I can't have your back in case something happens when if you won't be straight up with me."

He stared at her, his eyes intensifying by the second; great warning in them.

"Then," she paused, gulping, "—should I be worried?"

He frowned and leaned his head back, his lips pursed as he pondered over her question. He wasn't sure if she meant about him or about herself. Nevertheless, his answer was the same,

"Not unless you meddle." He said, then looked at her once more before he walked on down the hallway.

Ashley's shoulders sagged in defeat and she turned the other way, walking back down the hall. His answer seemed to hold some truth to it, so why the hell was she having her doubts?

Why did she get the feeling that whatever he was doing was something to worry about? That he was in some sort of dead end? She let out a breath and gazed up at the white ceiling, and frowned. She didn't know why she felt the need to, but she wanted to help him. Maybe it was because she knew what it felt like, to want help, but being too afraid to ask for it. Although her situation and his own don't come close to each other, a cry for help was still a cry for help, whether it was done loudly, or in barely a whisper.

It could also be that from what she's heard about him, to what he is actually like so far, she felt that he was being misunderstood because he was quiet, and had that sharp look in his eyes. Maybe he was probably even a softy and was just putting up a mask just like everyone else. The only difference was that he was god, if not the best, at it.

🔱🔱🔱

She took a deep breath and fidgeted with the cold, heavy object in her hand. Grabbing her phone with the other, she checked the time.

12:11 am

When is he going to get back? She wondered, her leg which was propped over her left one bouncing up and down; she was nervous.

She was in the middle of the living room, sat on an office chair that belonged to her roommate as she waited for him to arrive. The room was dark, the only noise being the gentle hum of their refrigerator in the kitchen to her right.

The door finally swung open while she was dozing off. Quickly, she sat up and narrowed her eyes towards it, ready to confront him. She knew that it really wasn't her business, but what if he really was a murderer, or even a serial killer disguised as a student? Wasn't everyone in the school at risk? Her heart pounded hard in her chest and immediately jumped to her throat when he finally walked into the room.

Knowing he doesn't switch on the lights when he gets to the dorm, she turned on the lamp beside her after slightly calming herself.

"Hi there." She greeted, twirling the gun in her left hand carelessly with her finger.

His eyes hardened and he grimaced as he carefully shut the door behind him.

Ashley stopped and held it properly, her finger now hovering in front of the trigger, of course, the safety was on. She had made sure to do her research before actually pulling through with the plan. She made sure that he couldn't see the safety switch.

"Careful." He warned, his voice hard and his eyes watching her instead of the weapon in her hand; his weapon.

"Oh, you mean with this?" She taunted, now pointing it at him, right at his chest, where his heart should be buried.

Eros let out a breath and leaned back on the door, crossing his arms and feet; unbelievably looking relaxed. Ashley worried that her plan wasn't going to work, but then again realized that he might be pretending to be unbothered to throw her off.

"If you want it back, then answer me and you can have it."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I'll keep it. Maybe even use it." She tilted her head to the side, "—or, I could call the cops on you and your friends."

He raised an eyebrow, "Be my guest."

Ashley watched him for a few more beats and bit her lower lip, realizing something. How could she have forgotten the most basic of all thing.

Bullets. It didn't bloody have any. She bit down on her lip harder, then decided that she could use that to her advantage. There was absolutely no way he could know that.

"Alright, then how about this," She flicked off the safety and lifted the Glock, aiming it at his head, "—you either tell me the truth, or I pull the trigger."

He pursed his lips—his left dimple greeting her as he did—and uncrossed his arms and feet, then took a stalked towards her.

"I stole a bullet and loaded it in, but I don't know when it'll end up in the chamber, when it'll fire. A warning, since it seems like you want to gamble your way out of this."

He got closer. Ashley pulled the trigger. The Glock clicked, but no bullet shot out. She noticed his right foot paused mid-step.

"I'm being serious, Eros." She taunted, her heart beating hard and her palms getting sweaty.

Fall for it already.

He continued to advance, only this time, he seemed more confidence and relaxed than before. He crouched down in front of her and wrapped his hand on the gun's muzzle. Slowly, he pried it from her, his eyes hard on her brown ones,

"Seems like I have won the gamble." He said and gently took the weapon from her.

He tucked it behind him but remained crouched in front of her, the expression in her eyes holding him captive. She was shaking, she was terrified, and she didn't even know it. He sighed and placed his hands on both her shoulders,

"I warned you not to meddle."

"Tell me, and I won't. I need to know." She said, not aware of how scared she sounded.

Eros watched her, actually contemplating it,

"You will only have more questions."

"Have you killed someone? Or—," she paused, remembering the rumour she heard, "—killed for someone? Your father, Gregor? Is that it? He's forcing you to kill his enemies before they get to him?" She asked, her eyes suddenly wide.

Eros' hands sunk from her shoulders to her biceps, "From whom did you hear that?"

"So, it's true?"

"Will you stop asking?"

"Yes."

"Then it is."

She pursed her lips, her tense shoulders slumping in relief. It's not that bad, right? That he isn't doing it out of his own will? That he's being forced?

"Why not just tell the police?"

He tightened his grip and lifted her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist; giving her the support she needed.

"It is a bit too late for that, don't you think?"

It was then that she realized how shaky she was. Her knees were wobbly and had almost lost all feeling in them. She used him for support as they made their way to the bedroom,

"R—right. So you're just going to keep doing his dirty work?"

"No."

"You have a plan?"

"Yes."

"Is he also forcing Seb and Brock?"

"Yes."

"Can I help you get out of it?"

He hesitated.

"No," He paused, "—sit."

Ashley sat on her bed and leaned down to take off her shoes, but he beat her to it. Once done, he looked up at her and clenched his jaw, his body still crouched in front of her.

"What you did today, do not try it again."

She snickered, "What? The stealing, the threatening, or the trying to kill you?"

He frowned, "Neither." He got up on his feet, towering over her, "—offering to help. You should desire no part of it."

She blinked and nodded, then frowned, "Wait, so you mean I can just threat—?"

He nodded.

"Wh—?" She trailed off.

He held her gaze longer than usual then walked around to his own bed. He then pulled his shirt over his head while Ashley realized why he didn't ask her to not to pull what she tried to pull again. He was obviously not scared, so could it be because—

"You enjoyed it? You're sick!" She exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at his now exposed back; her face cringed in shock.

Eros turned his head and looked at her from the corner of his eyes,

"I did indeed. Will you shoot me for it?"

Ashley let out the biggest gasp of the century.

Eros Huxley is a freak!

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