Timeless [h.s]

Eighteen

"Well, today you'll be able to form an opinion. We'll probably discuss it over lunch tomorrow, considering it's a school night, but that won't be happening unless we leave now. We're already super late." I spoke, seeing them nod in agreement.

We picked our belongings, closed the doors and locked the house, typing all the codes and turning on the security system. Every time I left the house I remembered Harry's battered face and bloodied clothes. I looked around warily, wondering if Gaston was watching us from afar or if my paranoia was getting the best of me. I knew we had an expensive, decent security system, but I always locked my room and took the key with me, just in case. If someone wandered around the house without our consent we wouldn't notice, but if the lock to my bedroom door was broken I definitely would see it.

"You won't have to worry about him much longer, Charlie." Sienna reassured me, giving me a tight smile. I nodded, although I couldn't feel any differently at the moment. When she opened the door to our car, however, my worries shifted and I briskly wondered if my family would like Oliver or hate him. The most surprising thing about that thought was knowing that deep down I would feel upset if they didn't warm up to my oldest acquaintance.

+

The party was definitely classy but far too crowded for my liking. As I knew he would, Oliver welcomed us, a broad smile gracing his features. He offered us champagne, which made Arthur slightly annoyed considering he was driving, but I accepted the alcohol gracefully, knowing I could get tipsy but never past the point of feeling regretful once I arrived home.

"I trust you're enjoying yourselves?" Oliver startled us, placing his hands on Sienna and Arthur. I enjoyed the interaction mainly because their reactions couldn't be more different. Sienna spared our host a polite smile, but I could sense her uneasiness from afar, meanwhile Arthur seemed absurdly pleased with the contact. I could've sworn he checked out Oliver's biceps but the look lasted too little for me to be certain.

Aside from every reservation I had, I couldn't deny the plain truth. The man welcoming us into his party was good looking, extremely handsome, and through the years, he surely learned how to use that in his favour. The black button up shirt clung to his body tightly but not in a way that seemed like something he borrowed from someone two sizes smaller. It accentuated his well-built arms and back, showing off all the work he had done. His hair was styled upwards, his haircut probably costed more than any sane person would be willing to pay, but he did it nevertheless and somehow made the whole thing seem effortless, as if he casually chose some clothes, ran his hands through his hair and showed up with a large smile to greet his guests.

"Yes, thank you for inviting us." I answered, still wondering what the entire party was for. Definitely not a casual get-together but also not an engagement announcement either. I almost laughed at the idea of being invited to an engagement party without knowing about it; surely, it'd be a surprise.

"I know you probably have questions, and I am willing to answer all of them as time goes by, but I was hoping we could just have a nice night together, be regular people." He shrugged, downing a large gulp of his scotch. I could see his cheeks getting rosier as the alcohol descended, giving him a somewhat adorable look.

"Yeah, I guess we can't expect to have that type of conversation in such a crowded place. I think we'd be happy with a house tour instead." Arthur spoke; smiling with mischief and making me roll my eyes. He seemed to have an endless amount of confidence, never missing an opportunity but never acting too inappropriate.

"Sure, I think that'd be nice." Oliver answered, smiling and looking me directly in the eyes. He wanted my approval, for some unknown reason, but I wasn't willing to give it to him. If I looked at his face long enough, I'd see the man I once knew in my actual period of time, and that'd make me hate him. If I stared too long, if I engaged in conversation, I'd remember his condemnable acts and the anger would resurface again. I still needed some time to process that dubious emotion, considering I felt enraged but understood his motives all at once.