Liberation: Oscar's Story

Chapter 13: Pt. 1

Ananya tried to pretend like she wasn't worried. She didn't want to worry Oscar, nor did she want to answer any questions he could pose to her about her health. She struck up an amiable conversation with him, discussing the weather and the snacks that they were having. For some reason, they didn't speak of the case.

Despite her attempts to remain calm, Oscar could tell she was nervous. Even if their mate bond wasn't rippling like an ocean caught in a storm, Oscar saw her finger tapping against the metal rim of the table. He saw the lip drawn between her two larger front teeth. He saw the pale color that painted over her cheeks. He could even hear her breathing. It was loud and anxious, though not as loud so that anyone could hear.

"These tables are nice, aren't they?" Ananya changed the topic. "I like the designs, though I don't think you can do any work on them. The gaps would cause my pencil to stab my paper." She gave a flighty laugh.

Oscar nodded, offering a smile. "Yes, but they make good decorations. I can only imagine how long it took the designer to mold the metal in these swirly shapes."

"Probably a long time. I had a friend in high school who wanted to be a welder. I often wonder what happened to her. She went to Jefferson Tech."

"Jefferson Tech? That's a good school. She must be doing well for herself if she went there." Oscar noticed a waiter cautiously nearing him and gave the young man a questioning glance. "Can I help you?"

"Er...w-would you l-like anything t-to e-eat?" The man, a flushed, scrawny person who looked no more than twenty stammered. For a brief moment, Oscar thought he was looking at Egon.

"Nothing for me," Oscar said. "Ananya? Would you like anything?"

"Oh! No, no thank you." Ananya laughed with her eyes pinched. To an outsider, she looked like she was enjoying herself. Still, Oscar, upon closer inspection, saw the beginnings of dark circles coloring the bags under her eyes and noticed that her eyelashes were pressed up against each other, meaning that she was forcing her eyes to be closed. It was as though she didn't want to see the world around her; she wanted to block everything out and focus only on what she could see - the darkness. "I've already eaten too much. I'll go past my allowance."

"Take anything you'd like. I'll foot the bill," Oscar offered. He heard his voice escape in a low growl and the waiter flinched and scooted toward Ananya.

"Oh...just some water, then." Ananya finally opened her eyes and smiled. "My throat's dry from all the chocolate I've consumed the past few hours."

"I suppose it's not far-fetched of me to assume that you enjoy chocolate?" A smirk played on Oscar's lips. "I could never eat too much of it. Sweets don't go well with my stomach."

"That's a shame. I love chocolate," Ananya said. "Is it all wolves who dislike chocolate? Even the pups?"

"Yes. It gives all of us a terrible stomach ache," Oscar explained. "The pups tend to vomit when they eat it. We can have other sweets, though, but chocolate is a no-go. It's sort of like an allergy, I suppose."

"Well, as long as you can have other sweets. Sweets are one of the few joys of life." Ananya took a long sip from the tall glass of water that the waiter had placed before her. Although she noticed the distance he kept from her, she said nothing.

"What else do you find enjoyable in life?" Oscar inquired, intrigued by what her response would be. "Did you have any favorite activities as a child?"

Ananya chewed her cheek thoughtfully. "Not particularly," she said, her voice a bit dull. "I spent most of my time studying as a child. When I did activities, they were all chosen for me. Ballet, tutoring, piano, French; the list goes on." She chuckled. "I didn't mind, though. I was an active child. My tutors were very accommodating of my energy."

"Tutors?"

"Yes. I had to go to special classes since a lot of regular schools wouldn't accept me." She spoke like this was a normal occurrence. "My aunt put a lot of emphasis on extracurricular activities, which I'm grateful for. It's made me a more rounded person." She shrugged and cleared her throat, blinking several times. "What about you? Did you do any activities as a child that you enjoyed?"

Oscar, who was still trying to wrap his head around the isolated upbringing Ananya had received, took a moment to reply to her. "Not really," he said. "My stepfather was a...he was a very masculine man. As his only son, he expected me to do exceptionally well in physical activities. I rarely played sports. I did wrestling, boxing, archery, shooting, and various martial arts." He thought back to the snippets that he chose to remember, most being the times when he'd beaten his opponents. "He was a tough man. I suppose in hindsight he wanted me to become just like him, and I think for a while, I started to."

"Just like him? What do you mean?" Ananya tilted her head. "I've heard rumors of your stepfather. Everyone says he was a horrible person..." She flushed. "Erm, no offense."

"None taken. He was an absolute disgrace of a wolf," Oscar spat, though none of the poison on his tongue was directed at Ananya. "He was abusive and vain. He cared about nothing but power. His anger was spontaneous, as was much of his character. When he looked at you, you never knew if he was going to hit you or tell you a joke. Shit, he even forced my mother to marry him when she was fated to someone else." Inwardly, he winced, his body burning in all the spots he'd been injured by that terror of a man. "He was...he was horrible, Ananya, to all of us."

Ananya gazed at him. Her lip trembled. Her eyes watered. Her nose sniffled.

Oscar's eyes widened in alarm. "Ah, don't cry!" He rose in panic. "Um, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry. W-What can I do? D-Do you need a napkin?" He pushed a bunch of tissues into her shaking hand. "Should I get you some chocolate? Maybe a cake?" His head spun haphazardly.

"N-No, I'm okay." Ananya cleared her throat and blew her nose. "I'm so sorry, Oscar. That must have been so horrible for you..." Tears streamed down her round cheeks. "To think that you couldn't enjoy yourself as a child...all because of that man...and everyone says that you're just like him when you're not..." she hiccuped and sobbed into the napkins. A couple of eyes fell on their table, whispers circulating the cafe, but Ananya acknowledged none of them. She didn't care that she was making a fool of herself in public. Why would she, when from the moment she was born she'd been doing that on a regular basis?

"Oh, it's okay." Oscar attempted to smile, but his expression oscillated between worry and comfort. "I'm used to it. I grew up like that, Ananya. Besides, he's gone now! I...I'm okay. I've moved on from it." Liar, his subconscious taunted him. You're still the same pitiful wolf you were ten years ago. Show her who you really are. Don't hide behind that flimsy facade.

Oscar's jaw tightened. "Ananya, really, I'm okay now." He ignored his intrusive thoughts and, with a moment of hesitation, allowed his hand to fall on her shoulder. "Ananya, please look at me." He met her glassy eyes and grinned. "I'm fine. That training made me into a strong Alpha. Besides, I enjoyed boxing." When it wasn't Banastre beating me to a pulp.

"If you say so." Ananya blew her nose and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get emotional." She laughed softly. "It's not something I'm good at controlling, as you could probably tell already."

"You're an open book," he replied, amused. "But I like that about you. I think it makes you admirable."

"Thanks." She wiped her face and tucked the tissues into her pocket. "You know, Oscar?" She leaned forward against the table, her face inches from his just as the young man returned to his seat. "I think we should do an activity together."

"You do?" Oscar tried to control his blush. "What activity?" His hands were clenched under the table.

"Hm...I'm not sure." Ananya jumped back into her seat and frowned. "You were more of a sporty type. I did a lot of art. Hm..." she puckered her lips. "What's sporty and artistic...? Oh, I know!" She snapped her fingers and straightened. "What about dancing?"

"Dancing?" He repeated. "I don't know how to dance."