Small Thing

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My heart beats rapidly as I sit quietly in the Hall's car.

I'm extremely nervous for some reason.

Oliver is in the front seat, and Lydia is in the back with me.

Oliver talks about his mom and sister all the time, but I've never met them. It's very nerve wracking.

Although, I've made a pretty good first impression if I do say so myself.

I mean, how many girls can say they've saved the life of their boyfriends younger sister?

But the problem is I've never met them before. How much do they know about me?

We make small talk on the way there, but it's not a long ride.

Their loft is quite large, but that's not surprising because Oliver's mom is a psychologist. She probably makes a decent amount of money.

I smile when I walk in the door, it smells like a mixture of leftover chicken and freshly baked cookies.

"I'll make a snack," Estee says walking into the kitchen. We took in the groceries in one trip.

Lydia grabs my hand.

"C'mon I wanna show you my room!"

She leads me to her room, and as soon as I turn the corner, my jaw drops.

It's amazing.

Her whole room has been painted, and I assume by her.

There are beautiful murals of everything from a vineyard to the New York skyline.

"This-this is beautiful!" I stutter, uttlerly astonished.

She smiles. "I've been working on it for a few months now. There's just still one spot that I don't know what to do with." She points to a spot on the wall next to the door.

"Where did you learn to paint like this?"

She shrugs. "I just like painting. I always have. My birthday's in a few days, and I wanted to get this spot finished before then. I just wished Oliver or my mom had artistic abilities. It would mean more to me if they helped, the people I love. I just need an idea."

"You know, that makes a lot of sense. I wish I was as smart as you at thirteen."

"Fourteen soon, if that counts for anything, and I'm sure you were. Didn't you graduate by then?"

"Well I guess, but I didn't have common sense like you."

We continue to stare at the spot on the wall with our arms crossed for a few minutes until Estee calls us to dinner.

I sit down and wait like I always do.

"We pray before we eat, I hope that's okay with you." She says taking Oliver and Lydia's hands.

I take Lydia and Oliver's hands too.

I grew up going to church every Sunday, I had a very strong religious faith.

I still believe in God, but it's a lot harder for me now.

After she prays we dig in, me much slower than them though.

I enjoy it, and after much convincing, Estee lets me and Oliver do the dishes.

I laugh as he makes himself a beard made of bubbles because I always do the same thing.

I put ine on two.

"Why, top of the morning to you madam!" He exclaims in a British accent, which makes me laugh harder.

Suddenly music starts playing, and I figure it's Estee turning on the radio.

It's soft and slow.

Oliver looks at me, and holds out his hand.

"May I have this dance?" He asks bowing.

I gingerly take his hand, and he pulls me in closer to him.

I rest against him, getting bubbles everywhere, but neither one of us minds.

We stay like this for awhile, and when we let go the sun is setting.

We finish up the dishes, and Ryan and Jenny text me saying it's okay for me to spend the night but nothing I shouldn't be doing blah blah blah.

"You're tired," Oliver states.

I shake my head. "I'm fine."

"C'mon, let's go to bed."

He leads me into his bedroom.

He starts to take off his shirt, and I uncomfortably turn away.

He notices, and walks over to me.
"Hey, you know I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

I blush, as I can't help but notice his muscles.

As he speaks they flex, and I don't notice my hands reaching up to rest against his skin.

It's weird to me, I've never felt love for someone like this.

And I don't mean in a sexual way. I just want to be close to Oliver.

He leans in and kisses me on the lips, and his hands slip down to my waist.

Eventually, we have to breathe, but it happens too quickly.

"Samantha," he whispers. "We need to stop."

"I know," I whisper back. "I know."

He gestures for me to get in bed, and he lays down next to me.

I face away from him, and start thinking like I always do at night. It sends that when I stop, and have time, I remember everything, and it hurts so much more at night.

I feel a tear drip down my cheeks, this from thinking about Oliver leaving me.

He hears me, and turns me so I face him.

He wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer.

Our chests touch, and he lets me cry as he holds me.

"Nothing's gonna happen," he whispers. "I'm right here."

He wipes away my tears with his thumb.

"I love you."

He kisses me on the forehead, and I calm down.

Soon, my breath falls into a steady rhythm, and I come closer to him.

We fall asleep together, and I'm held by Oliver's strong hands.

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