Poison and Cure

XXII - Cure

بسم الله
In the name of God
October 8th, 2004 12:26am
Seol, South Korea, Hotel

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"Oliver, you were interested in me all that time before this?"

It's after midnight when we get back to the hotel, and I've undressed into a black cropped shirt and chunky beige sweatpants and he is dressed in a loose t-shirt and basketball shorts.

He sighs, reclining on his bed, "I was."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why would I?"

"Because I liked you, too, and we cou–"

Oliver immediately sits upright, "You liked me?"

"Yes. God, we sound like middle schoolers," I say, removing the now wilted flowers from my bun that my mother-in-law put in and putting them in a small pile, "Adelaide mentioned it at dinner, remember?"

"I thought she was exaggerating because you used to excessively praise me."

"Nope."

"How long?"

"Six months after I met you. I didn't know what it was at first."

"What what was?"

"What I was feeling," I say, sitting at the foot of the bed while he sits at the head so I can face him, "As cliche as it sounds, I haven't experienced it, and honestly, I didn't want to."

"Then why didn't you ask for me?"

"You had said that you seldom hired women because of their tendency to be romantically interested in you, I'd put my job at risk! Anyway, I was too scared it was obvious."

"It wasn't. I thought I was obvious."

He thought he was obvious?

"I thought you were a single question from hating me."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, "What? Why would you think that?"

"Just... You just never seemed to like me very much and I never saw you smile and you seemed to simply be irked by my existence."

"I don't usually smile, and I obviously tolerated you at the very least if I kept you around for that long. I even said I disliked people in my research Centre, yet you always were around."

"I guess that's true, but actions speak louder than words."

Oliver exhales, "Mm."

"Mm?"

"Mm. Come here."

I crawl over to his side of the bed and sit next to him, flopping close to his side so my knee rests on his thigh.

"What?"

He looks down at me, beautiful dark irises tracing me. I see his purplish blue veins under his eye, along with the defined ones on his neck and hands.

"You should sit on m—"

"We should go to bed," I correct, before twisting my body to lean towards the bedside lamp to click it off. With my hand outstretched, I suddenly feel both his hands on my waist and his body against my back.

"I'm not in the mood to sleep, my dear."

"You should check if you have insomnia."

I try to keep my breath steady, fingers poised above the lightswitch.