#i bet once he comes back and realizes you aren’t there and yavent been for who knows how long

[charasbuttercuppie]

Omg, I would love for more of this! I love angst and romance :D

What I Once Was

(Asra x Reader)

We all know Asra is very sweet and gentle. But what if he wasn't? In other words, my angst-driven mind came up with this idea because I love making myself SAD. But there will be romance. So enjoy being sad with me! (this will be a multi-part story, so consider this a prologue? Sort of.)

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Rain streaked down the window you looked out, perched on a chair in front of it. You had been sitting there for how long now? Minutes? Hours? You were unsure, unseeing eyes following the trails of water down the glass pane, almost as though they were mirroring the trails that were near dry on your chilled face. The shop was quiet, save for the single candle burning in the room, hungry flames licking up the wick. Every small noise you heard caused your ears to perk up, hopeful that the flippant magician had returned, only to sag further into the chair when you came to the realization that he was most likely not coming back. 

You had returned to the shop after a few hours, having gone to town to peruse the market for anything that may be useful to you throughout the week and were excited to show Asra your finds. You went to unlock the door, but your hand met no resistance, the door pushing open with a light touch. Finding this odd-you swore you remembered to lock up before leaving this morning-you cautiously entered the dark shop, eyes scanning the immediate area. Nothing seemed out of place, and there were no signs of any rummaging or forced entry. You began to brush off the situation as just a poor mistake you had made when a noise erupted from the back room, followed by hushed curses. 

Without thinking, you barged through the velvet curtain closing the back room off front the rest of the shop, coming face to face with an agitated looking Asra pouring over what appeared to be some sort of ancient text. Either he was too consumed in what was before him to notice you, or he simply just did not care to notice, because he did not look up from the scroll, even when you spoke. 

“Asra?” you asked, cautious. It was rare to see him so frustrated, and he could get testy when in this sort of state, so you weren’t too keen on setting him off. You set your bag with your market finds on the ground and slowly approached him. “Is something wrong?” Asra paused at your question, exhaling forcefully, his breath causing the hair in front of his eyes to flit before settling back in place. 

“Is something wrong?” he echoed, venom in his voice. This caused you to halt in place. He had never spoken with you in such a tone, always being very soft and caring in his words and actions. He kept his attention on the worn papers in front of him, not acknowledging your presence outside of echoing your question, before adding in a hushed tone, “it’s not like you could help with it, anyway.” Well now you knew something was wrong. It was rare to see him like this, but it was even more rare for him to belittle your ability to help him solve something. Asra was powerful-very powerful-but so were you. The two of you had worked together on things so many times that you could honestly say you had lost count. You took another step towards him, reaching out to rest the tips of your fingers on his shoulder. You felt him tense under your touch. 

“Asra,” you inhaled a steadying breath. “I’m sure whatever it is you���re looking for, having two sets of eyes searching instead of one would be more beneficial. Especially considering the state it seems to have you in.” When he merely sighed in response, you pushed a little further, slipping your hand down to reach for his. “Asra-”

“Please go.” The finality in his voice took you by surprise. He rose to his feet then, agitation seeming to roll off of him in palpable waves. You stayed rooted in front of him, causing him to glower at you. “If I am being entirely honest, you’re possibly the last person I want to see right now. So I would appreciate it if you would leave.” 

Whether it was indignation or stubbornness that guided your response, you were unsure. You crossed your arms and stared hard at the white haired magician before you. 

“This is my home, too, Asra. I have just as much right to be here as you do.” You threw your hands up in defeat, frustration washing over you. “What is your deal tonight? You’ve never acted like this.” With me, you mentally added, but figured those words were best left unsaid. 

Asra dug the heels of his palms in his eyes, as if rubbing them hard enough would make you disappear and chuckled darkly. 

“And who are you to say anything about how I’ve acted in the past? You don’t remember any of it, anything about me, about us!” He ground his teeth together, and you saw small sparks of magic flicker around his fingers as his temper rose. He fixed you with his intense stare. “It was a mistake to bring you back when you’re no longer you.” Before you could react to his words, he was sweeping the scrolls off of the small table in the room into a bag, slung it over his shoulder, and vanished from the room without uttering another word. 

The shock of it all sat heavy in your stomach like a lead ball. A mistake to bring you back? He had never implied at feeling that way; he was the first person you saw when you awoke, sheltered in his arms. He taught you everything, from how to speak to how to use and control your magic once again. And he was always so patient with you, so caring. You scrubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand, the telltale sting of tears burning the corners of your eyes. He wanted you gone, he made that very clear. And you had no idea where he had gone or how long he would be gone for, but you’re certain things would come to a head if he returned and you were still sitting there.

You forcibly hoisted yourself from the chair you had practically been cemented to and made your way to the upper level of the shop were the two of you lived. Used to live, soon, your thoughts interjected bitterly. You grabbed a linen bag and began blindly throwing things into it without paying much mind; a few spare sets of clothing, a bag of coins, and your prized tarot deck. Throwing a shawl over your shoulders, hurried footsteps carried you to the back door of the shop. The same door he had left you through only hours ago. Unsure of where to head, but knowing you needed to be anywhere but here, you headed out into the chilled Vesuvian evening, pulling the heavy door shut behind you.