Something About Him (boyxboy)

8.

Serenity's kitchen was a mostly empty room, lined with white cabinets. From the glass doors, Oscar could see the cabinets filled with assorted dishes, cups and bowls on one side and miscellaneous spices along with a box of assorted teas and packages of instant oatmeal.

Still bewildered, Oscar made a beeline for the fridge. The gentle hum of the appliance offered a sense of comfort that he so desperately needed.

He opened the reflective silver door, and was cascaded in yellow light. The interior of the fridge was barren besides a few single beers, and a jar of olives. 

"Damn, I don't even like olives," cursed Oscar.

Nonetheless, he grabbed the jar and moved it to the marble island in the center of the room. He leaned over the counter, and unable to locate a fork, he apprehensively stuck two fingers into the jar, and pulled out an olive. He put the small green vegetable in his mouth, and chewed.

"This isn't that bad," he thought, and began shoveling olive after olive into his mouth.

A floorboard creaked, and in front of him, was Noah. His navy eyes peered out of his dirty, golden locks, down toward Oscar's hand in the jar. Oscar quickly swallowed the mass of olives in his mouth, and straightened himself. They met eyes. Oscar blew air into his cheeks and looked to the side. "Oh, hey...um..."

"Hey," Noah started. "So, uh, about earlier. I'm sorry, if you uh, were uncomfortable, it's just that I knew that they weren't going to stop, so I just..."

"No, it was fine. I didn't mind. It was fine," Oscar cut him off.

"Oh, okay..." He delicately placed his hands on the counter.

There was silence.

"So, uh, you really like olives, huh?" Noah asked, with a smirk. Oscar looked down and saw that he still had a fist full of olives. He awkwardly placed them on the table, and wiped his hand on his jeans.

"No, not really," he answered.

Noah was still smirking down at Oscar. "Well uh, I just wanted to come see if you were alright," and put his hands on his sides. "And um, about earlier. I just wanted to ask. Uh, are we okay? Are we cool?"

Oscar said nothing.

Noah continued, "It's just that..."

"Yeah, it's fine. We're cool."

"Yeah, okay. I just wanted to make sure..."

"Yeah, okay." Noah nervously ran his hands through his hair, then stuck them in the pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, okay, I'll see you up there," he said, pointing to the stairs.

And with that, Noah was gone, and Oscar was alone with his olives.

"Hmm, that was weird," he thought, and went up stairs, jar of olives still in hand.