Beside the Lake, after dark, open to all.

[ash_imperfect]

Asher walks the edge of the darkened lake, brooding and hurt. His room - or at least his furniture, and most particularly his bed - is no more than matchsticks, the victim of rage that had overwhelmed him when Nathaniel had walked out the door. Mania past, Asher was left feeling weak, broken, and unable to think about staying in his room. The

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[ash_imperfect]

"I remember walking across Le Pont du Gard, an aqueduct that was ancient even then. My father held the back of my shirt so that I could lean over the side, and see the rocks far below." He seems surprised to have shared such a thing, his grip on his knees tightening.

[ash_imperfect]

"Your childhood sounds lonely," Asher murmurs, still staring out over the water, thinking back centuries to when he was a child.

[ash_imperfect]

Asher sighs, shakes his head.

"It matters not." He looks away from Ganymede, something in the young man reminding him of Nathaniel. The wide-eyed innocence, perhaps, feigned though it may be.

[ash_imperfect]

"A friend whom I had hoped would become more, is now neither." For he doesn't think he can bear to be near Nathaniel now, not without wanting to touch him, to be near him just as he was last night.

[ash_imperfect]

Asher shrugs. "Nothing, I think. But I appreciate you offering to ease my woes."

[ash_imperfect]

"Oh?" Asher, too, is intrigued, despite his black mood.

[ash_imperfect]

"That I intrigue someone is compliment enough." Better than being ignored, better than being entertaining one moment, and shunned the next.