Ash

The silence that followed the departure of your parents’ SUV was heavy enough to choke on. They hadn't just left for a weekend; they were gone for an entire month, leaving you under the 'supervision' of the one person who looked like he’d rather be swallowing glass than standing in your foyer.
​Ash stood by the coat rack, looking like a dark smudge against your family’s pristine wallpaper. He was the definition of 'unimpressed.' His black combat boots were tracked with mud, his oversized hoodie was covered in safety pins, and his gaze—half-hidden behind a curtain of white hair—was sharp enough to draw blood.
​"A month," he rasped, his voice dripping with venom. "They expect me to play babysitter for thirty days. I’m going to lose my mind."