Locked in a Cabin for Love (The Fooo fanfic)

Chapter 17

Morgan's P.O.V.

"Are you up?" Oscar asked  from the floor.

Previously turned the other way, I turned over to that side lowering my head to the floor, my face inches away from his. "Yeah." I lifted myself back up, turning away from him.

"Are you going to get up?"

I looked at the clock. "Oscar,"

"Yes,"

"It's 7 o'clock in the morning, why the fuck are you waking me up?"

"I wanted to make sure you're feeling okay," he said innocently, crawling on the bed.

I tried to ignore the fact that me and Oscar are on the same bed and what that could lead up to.

"I know you want to get up?" Oscar's voice is soothing, crawling into my ear. "I'll make you pancakes," His breath hot on my ear, sending shivers down my spine. I quickly get up.  "I take that as a yes?"

"I'm not in a good mood," Very uncomfortable about what could have just had happened.

"I know that. I'm just trying to help you Morgan." Oscar puts his hands on my shoulders, trying to get me to look at him. My eyes meet his god damn gorgeous eyes. "It wasn't your fault, Morgan. Shit like this always happens."

My eyes began to twitch, water escaping out a little, yet very vivid, droplet and my lips shaking.  Oscar pulled me close to him, rubbing all over my back and holding my head as if I could support it myself. 

Inhaling Oscar's scent, I felt safe but I couldn't figure out why was he being so nice to me, no guy was ever this nice to me. I peeled myself off of him, Oscar's hands still on me, looking me over. His lips jam into mine. 

There was something calming about it, relaxing me. But instead of leaning back, I leaned forward into him falling on the bed. We kissed harder, faster, and more hungry. Eventually we pulled away from each other, something different was in the air.

Still catching his breath, Oscar asked, "Do you still want pancakes?" I nodded, trying to catch my own breath. He gets up. "Are you coming with?"

"I'll be there in a minute," I say watching him walk out the room.  My smile fading, thinking maybe this electricity and intensity was and act. Was this thing that just happen between us not love? Or was something forming before our eyes. Taking away these thoughts, I leave the room with new intentions.

"Hey," Oscar said in a cheer, "you're finally here," His hand, that didn't have a spatula occupied with, wrapped around my side, squeezing teasingly.

Maybe we do have something. A small smile appeared on my face, which probably from the outside dominantly stood as a smirk. It slowly turned into a frown while I watch Oscar continue to cook, both of us silent. 

Felix comes in, grinning too widely--him and Charlotte must have done it, no doubt about it. His hair in a wild mess as if it was an all night event and his face has the slightest fragrance called Charlotte's lip gloss.

He leans over the counter and touches his hand gently to mine "How ya feeling Morgan?"

"Fine, I guess," I said, still my eyes on Oscar.

"Your strong. Keep it up," He said, leaving his hand on mine for a second longer, wandering over to the table.

Oscar glances over his shoulder smiling at me. He crotches down, gentle kissing my forehead. I tried to determine if it was meaningful or he was just still pretending to be romeo. Then again it was just a kiss on the forehead. His arms still around me.

Charlotte comes out of her room in the same conditions as Felix--knotted curls, smeared makeup, and the musky smell of Versace which could only be Felix "Morning," she says, sitting next to Felix. "Why does everyone seem so sad?"

I froze hoping she wouldn't go on. Oscar did something that I couldn't see, holding me even tighter.

"Where's Step-"

My eyes quivered and my hands shook. I pulled away from Oscar's grasp, running to my room. He ran after be shouting babe. I cuddled up to my pillow, which had a light aroma of Oscar, trying to holding my tears back but they demanded to go down my face.

"Morgan," Oscar whispered moving slowly on my bed, eventually wrapping around me. I was digging myself into my pillow hoping he wouldn't see my tears. He arms go underneath me picking up my body, pulling me close to him, my face close to his. Oscar wiped a tear away from my cheek. 

I wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling myself closer to him. I love you. I wanted to shout but I know or at least feel like he doesn't feel the same way. I wanted to be even closer to him--the warmth of his bare skin touching mine, kissing me like he really means, telling me his real story. No acting, no pretending to sleep--where I get the bed and he has to sit on the stone cold floor--no stupid, meaningless kisses and fake temptations.

My tears didn't just represent the guilt of Stephanie's death, or how bad I made Olly feel. It was not being able to tell someone that you really love them, that you wanted to be with them, but your stupid, dumb fuck self doesn't have the fucking guts to say anything in fear of hurt, anger, depression, and blossoming of a different kind of friendship.

"It's okay to cry," He whispered rubbing me harder, going down further on my back hesitating at the hem of my pants going back up on my back again. The movement slowly goes to a stop. "I have to go now. I'll come back in a little bit." He kissed me (on the forehead) again, leaving me here, alone.

I laid back down. Minutes later there's a knock on my door. I grown, "Go away, Oscar. I don't to see you," throwing his pillow at the door.

"It Charlotte." I hoped she'd just stop there and leave me alone, but it's Charlotte, she never stops. "Can I come in?" I slowly got off my bed and opened the door. "Do you want to talk about it?"

It doesn't describe how I feel, I thought but shook my head no in response.

"Well...Can I at least dye your hair. Remember I told you I could dye your hair back to the way you had it before."

"Yeah," I say.

She continued with, "Then I can do your makeup and then you'd look hot for your date with Oscar."

I smile, overwhelmed by Charlotte's sweetness "What?" I said, debating whether this is a good idea or not. Bad things could happen--I could make him hate me. I have a tendency to do that, considering I only had one boyfriend in my life. But it could also have a good outcome, though bad thing always overpower the good.

Charlotte came back, a wide smiling appearing on her face. She dolled me up from eleven to four o'clock.  During this time she tried to get me to tell her about Oscar and I--how I feel around him, why we're so quit when we have sex, etc.,--I just let her talk the whole time.

"Give it to him hard and good," Charlotte said, while I put on my dress-a simple, yet tight, red dress and, in her words, getting some worthy. "Done," she finally says. "Stay here while I go check on the boys."

I nodded nervously. I feel stupid at most, not because of the dress or my hair or all the makeup, but because of Oscar. What if he laughs at me, or worst, if he pretends to think I actually look good for once.

The three of them were standing outside my door talking. Seconds later Oscar appears at the door, wearing all black--something I can barely resist. He smile is so bright and it looks true, natural, and more importantly not forced.

Oscar shuts the door behind us, locking it.