If I Stay✔️

92

"Charlie won't let you go if you tell him. You'll get to stay here."

"Yeah," he sighed, a sad smile lifting. "But they won't be here forever. I need to learn how to stand on my own two feet without them. And if I can't do that, that's when I'll find comfort in a bottle." The way he said it; so nonchalant and to the point as if he didn't care what it would lead to. It stirred something in me.

"Hold on," I reached out and grabbed his forearm, pulling him to a stop when he began trying to drift away from me. I pulled an old receipt from my pocket and moved to grab the pen from the sign in sheet. "Call me. When you get out of here, if you need someone to listen or to comfort you in a way a bottle would... call me."

Lincoln took the paper keenly, holding it tightly between his fingers like it might blow away. He stared at it, clearing his throat before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, how sweet of you, Le," he ran his eyes over me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I knew where he was going with this, but it didn't scare me in the ways it would've before. "You're cute and all, but not my type sweetheart."

"Oh piss off," I laughed, pulling away from his embrace to elbow his side. "Get your head out the gutter. You know that's not what I meant."

"I know, I'm just fucking with you," he blew out a breath and looked down, staring at my number for a few moments. "Thank you... for this," he cleared his throat, smiling again. "I might call you someday."

I shrugged, trying to play into the false bravado he'd created. "Offer's always there."

"I think Oliver's waiting for you," Link gestured his head to the side. I turned seeing Oliver leaning against the wall as he observed us. "Go," he waved his hand to dismiss me. "Oliver's never been very fond of me. I'm gonna find Ash anyway."

"Oliver isn't really fond of people in general." I said, hoping to show it was nothing personal.

"Believe me, I know." Link snorted and began walking away, calling over his shoulder to me. "See you in there."

Oliver was by my side the second he left. "I don't like him," he murmured under his breath, dual eyes narrowed on Lincoln's retreating figure.

I tried and failed to hold back my smile. A sense of pride washed over me; I was so proud of Oliver and how far he had came with using his voice. There was still hesitance before he spoke his first word, a cruel reminder of how far he still had to go. But it was progress nonetheless.

"You don't like anyone." I pointed out, turning to him with a teasing grin.

He raised an eyebrow, unaffected by statement. "I like you." he said, no hesitance this time.

I hummed, grin shifting to a smile. "So, how's home?"

From our daily texts, I knew home life for him was shit. He didn't dive into detail, but I knew he hated being around his father and older siblings. Sebastian was the only one he cared about, the only one keeping him sane.

"It is what it is," he signed, recoiling back into his mute shell at the mention of home.

I pursed my lips, cursing myself for even bringing it up. There was so much I wanted to say; I wanted to tell him I was here for him, that I would listen if that's what he needed. But I didn't press any further, Oliver already knew what I would do for him. It wasn't my business to pry and stir up even more reminders.