Chapter 3~ In The Same Bed
My hands interlocked with his and we walked home in the night. I was tired, clacking my boots against the hard ground systematically. My palms now went to Oliver's arm and stayed there.
"You know it's always beautiful at night. Yet the craziest things happen. Whoo!" I went to the side of the lonely street to climb on something high.
"Be careful," Oliver urged.
"Scar-dy cat."
"Crazy," He insulted.
I held his arm then slowly let go thinking he'd catch me quickly but I was dead wrong and fell ass flat on the ground.
"Sorry,"
"Aww," I was still on the ground. I attempted rising but failed and my leg was bent due to my heel boots. "Now I'm injured, I can't walk. You'll have to carry me."
Oliver inquired simultaneously carrying me, "Why do I feel I'm always being used by you?"
"Cuz you're meant to be," I playfully kicked the side of his leg as though urging a horse. "Now go, giddyap!"
We both chuckled.
Oliver took me home, to his home. I went in and took up a glass filling it with water from a jug.
"Nelle," Oliver called my name in a husky tone as though there was some issue to worry about. That was his voice when he had something giving him concern on the inside.
"What?"
There was silence, as if he swallowed back his thoughts. "You can sit over there."
I sat on the bed, which he had pointed. I then squeezed the sheets like I had something troubling me. 'What was I doing here?'
Oliver sat on the bed, then laid. As I have gotten use to, he took off his shirt— something he usually did when he wanted to sleep or was alone. (This was totally normal) He faced up and so did I (after laying my body).
"I dont want you to go." He looked at me.
"Then I won't go." —it was later that I understood this statement. I slept in and when my eyes opened, I saw a scarred back that appeared like an angel with ripped out wings. His back was light skinned and was vertical as he had positioned himself to rise. I was still dizzy and so the image of him leaving to god knows where was blurry.