𝐚𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚 [𝟏𝟖+]

Chapter 19

𝐃𝐚𝐡𝐥𝐢𝐚 harshly ripped her arm out of Oliver's grasp. "Wha-what are you doing?!" She exclaims angrily, Oliver sighs and shakes his head. "Dahlia, that guy was a creep! He was obviously trying to get you more drunk." He explains, furrowing his eyebrows at her. Dahlia stabbed her finger in his chest, "News flash, I don't need you to protect me!" She rolls her eyes and walks away from him.

"Are you sure? Because you slept with a fucking demon, and you were just about to let some sleazebag from the bar take your drunk ass home!" He yells after her, clenching his jaw. "Why do you care?! Fuck you, Oliver." She scoffs and gets in her car. "You can't drive, you're drunk!" He exclaims, running after her. She ignores him and begins driving away. Her vision slightly blurry, her head feeling disoriented. Oliver groans in defeat and watches her drive off.

"Fuck, I don't need anyone to protect me." Dahlia huffs, tightening her grip around the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white. After a couple of minutes, guilt and remorse took over her being. She contemplated turning around and driving back, but she figured he'd already left. Tears of frustration and anger stream down her cheeks, and she leans her head against the steering wheel. "You're an idiot, Dahlia." She exhales, wiping her tears. She wasn't willing to lose her only friend over a stupid argument.

Without thinking, she turns on her phone and calls Oliver. The anxiety grows in her stomach as the phone rings, and he picks up. "What?" He groans over the line, his voice groggy. She sighs in relief, "Oliver, I'm so sorry. I've been so stupid, and I didn't mean anything I said. I feel so horrible, you're my only friend and I'm so sorry, please don't hate me." She rambles, her throat drying up and a sob leaving her lips. She hears rustling on Oliver's end, and she's filled with dread as he doesn't respond.

"Where are you?" He asks calmly, she inhales and calms herself down. "I'm driving home, why?" She answers, gnawing at the inside of her cheek. "Pick me up. I'm across the street from Mac & Mulligan's, over by that old smoke shop." He instructs, and she nods, and soon realizes that he can't see her. She laughs slightly at her stupidity, and sniffles, "Sure, I'll be right there.".

The brunette speeds over there, hoping that there aren't any police officers patrolling the area. She slams her foot on the gas pedal, and adrenaline courses through her veins. She arrives shortly, and looks around for Oliver, sighing in relief when she sights him sat on a bench, awaiting her patiently. She waves at him, and he gets in the car without saying anything. She frowns, but ultimately understands his reaction.

"Where are we going?" She breaks the silence, looking at him through her mirror. "My house, I need to tell you something." He explains, and then tells her his address. She nods hesitantly and begins driving to the house, using his instructions. After about 10 minutes, they arrive safely. Oliver fumbles in his pockets for his key, before pulling it out and opening the door lazily. As Dahlia walks in, she notices the atmosphere of his house. The front door leads directly into the living room, and his furniture looks old, reupholstered. There are two couches, one spacious yellow one, and one purple velvet sofa. 

The walls are displayed with several eye-catching paintings, some of them appearing to be originals. Framed diplomas, and trophies, are proudly displayed on a small table that leans against the wall. In his graduation photo, his hair is a bit shorter and he appears to be missing his silver lip ring. Dahlia hums, taking in the decoration. Oliver leads her to the yellow couch, and gestures her to sits down. She obliges, and cringes slightly when the couch creaks under her. 'Jesus, how old is this thing?' She thinks to herself in silence, choosing not to say anything out loud.

Oliver stands in front of her, and clears his throat. "I wanted to talk to you about the demons." He announces, fidgeting with his cuff-bracelet. She nods and stares up at him. "There's a reason no one gets out of a human-demon relationship alive. Demons seem to suck the energy, and the life out of people," He explains, taking a quick pause before continuing, "I don't want Grumpster to do the same to you. Selma's daughter, Faye? The same thing happened to her. We had a demon here, before Grumpster. His name was Mortimer Balthadore, he was one of Gerald's first successful attempts at summoning a demon. He and Faye had an intimate relationship, they weren't too secret about it, either. One day, Faye was found dead, and Mortimer was no-where to be found. Her death suggested foul play, and it was assumed that Mortimer was the one who killed her, as some sort of sacrifice." Oliver finishes, looking down remorsefully. 

Dahlia's eyes widen as she listens to him, "B-But, Lucien would never kill me! He makes me feel safe, he-he protects me!" She argues, in disbelief. He furrows his eyebrows, "'Lucien'? He told you his name?" He asks, dumbfounded that he'd trust anyone enough. She nods slowly, starting to regret revealing his name. "That's strange, he pledged not to tell anyone his name. We even tried to torture him into saying it." He hums, and Dahlia cringes as the word 'Torture' enters her ears.

"I don't tell this to most people, but Gerald is actually my father. He's the one who convinced me to get into Demonology." He admits, and picks a small picture frame off of the table, handing it to Dahlia. She analyzes the picture, it seems to be a family picture featuring a younger Gerald, a much younger Oliver, and an unknown woman. The woman was beautiful, with a full head of thick, shoulder-length copper red hair. Her eyes were a striking green, and her lips were full and painted red. A purple dress draped over her slender frame, and she held onto Oliver with a content look on her face.

Oliver, with a goofy, toothless grin, and Gerald on his left-hand side. Gerald's hair was the same shade of blond as Oliver's, and the stern expression on his face never seemed to leave, despite him growing older. "That's my mom, she left when I was young. My dad never seemed to recover, so instead of wallowing in his sadness, he decided to turn his energy to studying demons." Oliver explains, smiling sadly. Dahlia shoots him a sympathetic glance, before handing him back the picture.

"Oliver, Lucien isn't the same as Mortimer. He's... Special, to me. He makes me feel different, something I've never felt before." She explains, slumping her shoulders. He leans on her, pulling her into a tight hug, "If that's what you want, I support you. I just want you to be safe, Dahlia." He buries his head in her shoulder, his speech slightly muffled by her shirt.