Seven Twenty-Eight

6.

Elisa came to life when the elevator rang, the doors opening up to reveal the brightly lit hall. She pushed herself away from the metal wall and dragged her feet down the suspiciously empty hall. Her head turned when she reached the end, cranking her neck to look around the corner to reveal more of the emptiness early on that Saturday morning.

She took a deep breath and shook her head, turning her attention back to the door in front of her and knocked firmly. She looked down at her feet, tapping them as she waited, sure he was there.

She snapped back up when it clicked open.

"Hey," His voice was hoarse, telling her he had just woken up, "What's up?"

"I'm sorry," She frowned, "I woke you up."

He shook his head, yawning at the thought of sleep and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "It's okay, I probably needed to get up," He retorted, lazily leaning his head against the door frame.

She bit her bottom lip, glancing over her shoulder to observe the empty hall again.

"Do you want to come in?" He offered, standing up right.

"Uh— Y-yeah," She stammered, "Please."

He nodded, stepping to the side to welcome her through the door. He rubbed his face as she walked past, propping himself against the door.

It was then that she noticed her was shirtless, dressed in nothing but a lazy pair of sweatpants. She turned her head away, noting Sam's nearly made bed. "Where's Sam?" She asked out loud, turning around to look at him again.

"I don't know," He yawned again, pushing the door shut, "It's definitely not normal for him to be up so early."

"Yeah, me neither," She muttered, awkwardly pulling out his desk chair, making herself comfortable. She pulled her knees up to her chest, leaning back in the seat casually. "I'm usually not out of bed till ten on a good day," She told him, leaning her chin on her knees.

"You're two hours early," He informed her, glancing over at the clock hung on the wall.

"Yeah," She said slowly, "I couldn't sleep."

Oliver nodded, moving to lean against his bed. "Is that why you're here?" He asked, pushing his hair back.

She pressed her lips together, watching his bare chest naturally flex when he reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Uh— I think," She choked out, shamelessly staring up at him.

"You think?" He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows together. He noticed her stare and shifted awkwardly, stiffening his posture to present himself the way he pleased.

She sucked in a sharp breath, turning her head away to look at the ground. "I-I don't know," She sighed, rubbing her palm over her forehead.

His eyes fell to look at the position he stood, automatically rolling them at himself. He stood up right and brushed his hand through his hair. "Why not?" He called over his shoulder as he shuffled around to pull a shirt from the dresser.

"I'm confused— You're confusing me," She told him, looking up again as he pulled the shirt over his head.

"I just asked why you were here-"

"No, not that," She huffed, brushing her fingers through her hair, "I just— You're— Ugh-"

"Sorry," He defended himself jokingly as he smoothed out the wrinkled shirt, "I don't mean to be ugh."

Elisa sat up again, leaning her back against the chair in defeat. "Oliver," She sighed, holding the back of her hand over her eyes.

"I just woke up," He laughed, moving to sit down on his bed, across from her, "I don't know what you want from me."