a n d // we \\ a l l // fall \\ d o w n

[Deleted]

Asher Thorne.

Who gave a child that name?

Let's see.

Druggie parents.

That's who.

Asher lifted his head, peering at the Institute.

His thick accent, showing his Irish descent, floated around him as he muttered.

"Curse this idiot place."

He hauled his bag over his shoulder, securing it to his chest.

He raised a hand, balling it into a fist, and knocked.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are."

He chuckled darkly to himself.

((This is our lovely Asher))

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

It took a few minutes, but the Institute door finally opened. Standing in the doorway was a young man, probably around eighteen or nineteen years of age. He was pretty tall, about 6'0, though he looked small in the doorway. His golden blonde hair was wet, as though he just came from a shower. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and that was it. In his hand, a dark blue towel was clutched and he rubbed at his hair with it, "Hello," Colden Ravenscar murmured, his bright blue eyes flicking up and down the stranger, "Who are you?"

[Deleted]

Asher looked bored.

Dark brown-black eyes peered at Colden like he was a stranger - ahem, that was because he was a stranger.

Black hair dyed red slid over his eyes, framing his face in long wisps.

His creamy complexion stuck out with his hair, his eyes.

His everything.

Black leather pants hugged his legs, black Converse with red laces adorning his feet. A black shirt with a mans button-up thrown carelessly over it, the center button stuck through the hole. The button-up was dark, dark red, nearly black but not quite.

Matchy-matchy.

And definitely a boy to ravish.

Why was he Asian-looking and Irish-sounding?

Because his mother was Irish and Brittish, his father Asian and Korean.

He had been raised in Ireland, and had adopted Gaelic as his native tongue.

He kept his looks, and treasured them.

The star earring in his lobe flashed dully as he spoke, thick pink-red lips pursing.

"I'm Asher Thorne. Lookin for a place to stay, mate. Do you mind?"

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

Colden quirked an eyebrow and draped the towel over his shoulder, "You're a Shadowhunter," he stated rather than asked. It was obvious, because Mundanes couldn't see the Institute, let alone knock on the door. He stepped aside after a moment, gesturing the Asian boy inside, "I'm Colden Ravenscar. Just call me Cole. Where'd you live before this, Asher?"

[Deleted]

Asher raised an eyebrow and stepped inside, bag lugged over his shoulder again.

His muscles rippled under the shirt as creamy skin was exposed, showing the tattoos there.

"Why should I tell you that?"

His voice was sarcastic.

It was normal - his defenses were up.

"I've lived a lot of places. None of them particularly pleasant."

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"I wasn't asking," Colden closed the front doors and they locked automatically. His own tattoos were on display, dark against his peach colored skin. Scratching his left pectoral muscle lightly, he cocked his head, "You had to become one of us somewhere. Which Institute?"

[Deleted]

Asher sighed.

"All these pesky questions."

He frowned.

"Statements. Whatever they are."

He dropped his bag.

It made a loud thump.

"Ah, lets see.... I became a Shadowhunter back in New York. I was transferred to Paris for a time. I went back to New York, came here."

He shrugged.

"Why do you care?"

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"Caring was never part of it," Cole responded, shrugging one shoulder, "You're a total stranger. I can't just let you live here on a whim. If we don't know you, we can't trust you."

[Deleted]

Oh, f*ck off.

Temptation ran strong.

He needed to cuss this boy out.

No, no, no.

Asher's voice was tightly controlled, reasonable, when he thought it fit to start speaking.

"I see. Well, are you the director?"

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

Colden could detect the annoyance in his voice and he immediately smirked, "Of course, follow me~" he replied, turning and heading down the long corridor.

[Deleted]

Asher's face tightened at the smirk.

Stupid, idiot...

He growled softly and followed him.

"Thanks so much."

His voice was sarcastic, cruel, cutting coldly through any barriers. Hopefully, striking the heart of this bastard.

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"It's my pleasure, Asher," He purred, obviously poking fun at the other male. It would be amusing to have this guy around. He had a short temper and it would provide Colden with some entertainment.

[Deleted]

He pushed open the door, turned around, threw the bag onto the bed, and growled. "Thanks. Now go away."

He shut the door right in his face.

An amused Cheshire smile made Asher's lips curl, his eyes glint.

Quite handsome, if you asked me.

He unzipped his bag, took out a few things, and sat on the bed with his MP3 cranked up loud enough to bust the eardrums.

He didn't give a crap.

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

There was a small snicker from the hallway as Colden turned around and headed back to his own room. This newbie was interesting, to say the least. He was not boring, so Cole wouldn't mind if he found permanent residence here. He'd been...lonely for a while now.

[Deleted]

A day later, Asher crept down the hallway.

He peeked around corners, looking sleepy and ruffled.

"I need a goddamn shower..." His Irish accent made his voice thicker, softer.

His feet, padded with toe-socks (seriously? a boy wearing toe-socks? yes, seriously) made little to no noise on the floor, for which he was grateful.

And then his phone went off.

"You son of a-"

"Hello?"

He flipped open the phone and answered in a hushed whisper.

"Why are we whispering?"

"Jazz! I didn't expect to hear from you!" He looked like a little boy, excitedly jumping up and down.

"Yah - I wanted to talk to you before you got killed."

"Sarcasm?"

"Not even in your dreams."

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

The blonde Shadowhunter was currently in his room, though he was not alone. A tall, dark-haired man was with him, both of them conversing in low voices. Colden paused when he heard noise in the hallway and held up a finger. The other man listened too, "Who it th-"

"Shh!" Colden covered the guy's mouth and squinted his eyes, as if that would help his hearing, "I wanna hear."

[Deleted]

Asher sat against the wall, butt propped up on his heels with his head down.

"So, seriously - why are we whispering?"

"Because I'm trying to find the showers. And it's just after midnight."

"You are so strange." Jasmin's voice was playful.

"I know. Part of why you love me."

"Meh."

"Are you going to start that whole thing up again?"

"What thing?"

"The whole, I suck, you're amazing thing."

"Why shouldn't I? It's true. I don't deserve you."

"Jazz, whispering!"

"Right, sorry. I thought you Shadowhunters were humans."

"Nope. Super-hearing, dumbass."

"Don't call me that."

"But you are."

"Fine. Love you, dork."

"Love you too, a**h***."

"Bye."

"Later, Jazz." He slowly slid shut the phone, creeping out from around the corner.

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"So this is that new guy?" Both males were standing just around the corner when Asher turned. The taller, dark haired one grinned, his teeth impossibly bright in the low light. A pair of yellow cat eyes twinkled down at Asher, "He's not bad looking, if you ask me."

Colden shrugged, "I'd watch what you say, Ezekiel. He's more likely to punch you in the face. Or at least slam a door in it."

"Blondie, I don't need you telling me what to do. We're not married."

[Deleted]

Asher stood up and stared at them.

His red-black hair was over his eyes, hiding them, shielding most of his face.

The single earring he wore - this time a dragon - glinted before he turned his head, hiding that.

"Can I get to the bathroom, please?"

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"Cold, just like you said," Ezekiel placed his hand over his heart and feigned pain, "I was just leaving anyways. I'll be in touch, Blondie. Answer my calls because I don't call twice." He turned and headed down the hall, heeled boots clicking quietly.

Colden rolled his eyes and stepped aside for Asher, "Be my guest, Princess. Just thought I'd see what was making all this noise so late."