(Trigger Warning: Talk about r*pe and child Ab**e. Your mental health is important!)
***
Something had shifted between her and Oliver after the kiss they shared. This wasn't the first time they had kissed but it felt differently. It was different and she didn't know why.
During work, she would try her best to avoid him but he called her to his office because of the 'new security system' and made her have breakfast with him. The minute her eyes wandered to him, a blush would creep on her cheeks, and air would be forced out of her lungs which was ill-advised because of her sickness.
She could barely look him in the eyes during meetings and when his fingers brushed hers she would abruptly stand up and excuse herself to the restroom.
After a few days, Oliver got very curious about her new behaviors, so much so that he asked her to stay back after a group meeting and called her into his office.
She was at the door when he called out to her, slowly.
"Hastings," her body stiffened, laptop clutched to her chest as she stepped into his office, footsteps light and strained.
"Is there something wrong, Hastings? Are you unwell?" The concern was etched into his features because that was the only thing he could make of her changes. She was probably sick or was going to be.
"No. Nothing's wrong. If that's all I'll get going." How she managed to speak without stammering was a first-class miracle. She still imagined it every night before she went to bed. His lips on hers, the taste of his blood when he devoured her lips. However, it wasn't only her lips he claimed that night.
"I didn't ask you to leave, Hastings. And come forward, I don't have a contagious disease and yes before you come up with a clever quip, remember you are in my territory." The wolfish grin appeared and she wanted to protest.
What would she have retorted if she had been in the right state of mind? Something along the lines of, "Assholery is the most highly communicable disease, so no thanks, it's safe to say I'll keep my distance."
Yes, that was meant to be her line but nothing came out as she took small steps towards him. She sat opposite him, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"Can I ask you something, Hastings?" He asked softly that the hairs on her arm stood. She preferred when he demanded something of her or insulted her but his gentle touches and kindness were different cases entirely. She couldn't handle such. She couldn't handle him if he were like this.
This seemed to have done the trick because she replied, snidely, "If it involves murdering someone and hiding dead bodies, you've got the wrong person."
Oliver fought back the urge to roll his eyes. This was important. He had to get it right.
Then she saw it, he didn't look at her. He hadn't peered into her soul without permission but stared at something that seemed more intriguing than her. Which was a first for her. She was used to him touching her, always being the center of attention for him when she entered the room.
"No, it's nothing of that sort, Hastings." He answered dryly and Kayla did a double-take that this was Oliver Wilde.
Normally, he would have played into her sarcasm and told her that she was insane or something not answer her seriously.
"Then, what is it?"
Oliver cleared his throat, shifting in his seat and the incessant tapping of his fingers on the table almost drowned out Kayla's thoughts.
She frowned down at his fingers and instinctively, her hands flew to his and held it, gently.
"You don't need to count anymore. Tell me what you want to say." She encouraged, smiling softly at him. Kayla had never been the one to initiate contact and it stunned him.
His pupils dilated at the contact, a slight tremor in his fingers. No one had ever touched him without malicious intent. His body was conditioned to believe that a woman's touch was evil. They all just wanted to hurt him but Kayla was different and he didn't know why.
He tried to think why his body reacted differently. Why did his body seem to yearn for her and couldn't bear to not touch her when she was near? It startled him sometimes. He feared that he would push her away. Maybe if he explained, if he told her.
"Do you want to tell me what you're always counting? If you are comfortable." Asher had said that he had been through a lot. By a lot, she didn't want to what that meant because the line she and Oliver would cross after this?
The level of intimacy they shared, and the undeniable connection would kill her because they had no future together. Her career would be at stake, but she guessed that her long-term goals were useless at this point. She thought bitterly.
Oliver hesitated. This is what he had always wanted. For Hastings to care about him the way he did. She should be interested in him just like he was so he wouldn't be the only one driven mad. She was like a curse on his mind every day.
But Kayla waited patiently, not pushing him for answers as she stroked the back of his palm, calming him.
"I count the amount of time it would take for my mother to burst through those doors. Then she would smile victoriously…" he faltered, shoulders growing tense and eyes dazed, but Kayla's touch managed to bring him back.
Her eyes seemed to say, "Take your time. I'm here."
"…That she had won our game of hide and seek. Chasing me around the house."
In her head, Hastings thought this was a good memory. That his mother's death must have put him through terrible things. She must have left him when he needed her the most so he was broken until he added, "With a rope, sometimes a chain. Depending on how far she wanted to go that day or how far gone she was."
Kayla gasped, the floor opening beneath her. Rope, chain. The words registered in her mind, slowly. She blinked at Oliver whose expression was blank. Like he had occluded. Like he hadn't just told her the most horrifying thing she had ever heard.
"Why? Why did she chase you down with a rope and a chain? You were a child." she squeaked, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.
She expected him to say that she knew why but Oliver gave the final blow, evenly, and the only way she knew he was feeling it was in the way his hand kept trembling beneath hers.
"To tie me down and rape me. It was fun for her. Sometimes she would bring some of her male friends and they would have a go at it with her."
She could hear her sobs. She could feel her shoulders shaking. She didn't expect this. She didn't expect to hear this from him. No one went through that and came out sane. There was more to the story but she didn't have the mental capacity to know more.
"Hastings, don't cry." he left his seat, to crouch beside her. "Ssh, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here," he wiped her tears away.
"I'm supposed to be comforting you." her lips quivered thinking of a small Oliver running, panicked, scared, and alone. Running with his life in mind. Men and his mother flesh and blood-doing the most despicable things to him.
Kayla got to her feet and Oliver followed her lead. She could forgive him. Forgive him for stalking her and invading her privacy not because of the story he told, no, it was because he was alone and Kayla was the only one he could touch. He could feel it.
Oliver cupped her cheeks, seeing she stood there wide-eyed. Fuck he shouldn't have told her. If he knew this was how she would react he would never have said anything.
"I'm so sorry, Hastings! Fuck! I knew you wouldn't have been able to handle it! It's all that stupid shrink's fault! He said that I should-" The paranoia made Kayla cry even harder and Oliver was at a loss for what to do.
This wasn't in his specialty. He never had to comfort Asher because he couldn't touch her and the kids at the orphanage had specialists so he played with them when they were sad but he didn't know how to deal with her. His Hastings.
"Oh my God, Hastings. Stop crying. If people see this they would think I did something to you," he winced and Kayla did something shocking.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.
"What are you-"
"Stop talking. You need it. I'm sorry, Oliver. I wish I could take away the pain." She meant it. Not just as words of comfort but she truly meant it. She had never felt this much anger and pain for another person that it hurt her physically and mentally.
She couldn't fathom it. The pain and torture. All alone. So lonely, just like her. Just like how her life had been at some point. Staring at the cold hospital walls at her sick sister. No one told her that everything was going to be alright.
Just listening to doctors diagnosing Evie, sticking things into her. Finding out that she was terminally ill with no cure. Alone. Maybe that was what drew them to each other. Not just loneliness, but something more like attraction. Opposites attracted as they said.
They couldn't be more different but yet so similar. Oliver inhaled her neck, taking in her scent. She calmed him and so did her to her. Wood and citrus.
To be hugged and cared for felt so good. Nice. He enjoyed it, so they both stayed like that for what felt like hours.
When they pulled apart, it hurt both of them. The warmness, the closeness, and care dying somewhat. She liked being close to him.
The silence created an understanding between them.
Smiling awkwardly, she inquired, "You wanted... To ask me something."
Today was the strangest day in her life. A rollercoaster of emotions. But nothing topped the fact that Oliver blushed. His whiskey eyes, squinted, averting his gaze.
The thought made her giggle. He looked so cute. So human. "Come on, out with it."
"Would you…." Oliver took a deep breath. Fuck he was hopeless sometimes. 'Get your shit together!'
He decided to say it fast, "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Kayla almost lost her balance, blinking twice like she had misheard.
"Sorry, what?"
His confidence returned seeing her face. He affected her and he liked it. Pushing his hands inside his pocket, he repeated, calmer, "Go on a date with me, Hastings."