love came calling, twice // olly murs

18.

She was wondering if he owned any other trilby's than the grey one he was always wearing. It was a completely absurd thought, something she had filed away to the back of her subconscious, but as it danced on the surface of so much more, she turned over in his bed and pondered the implications of it all. It occurred to her, then, that she was finally moving on.

She was healing.

She let out a deep breath and stretched, yawning. A soft buzzing noise could be heard from the room across from Olly's and she frowned. What the heck was it? It was faint, barely there and Amelia sat up in bed before flinging her robe on to go investigate further.

Upon opening the door she realized that it was coming from Tom's room. The chilling pain and apprehension that would creep into her veins everytime she stared at it settled in, but it was no where near as strong. It was there, but just barely. Somehow, this knowledge made it easier to breathe and she pressed her hand to the doorknob before turning it.

Amelia entered Tom's old room for the first time in nearly four weeks, the sound growing louder as she opened the door. Her eyes grew slightly wide when she saw Olly standing there, dressed in a red plaid flannel shirt, jeans and his trilby, a paper mask over his mouth and an electric sander in his hands.

He turned slightly at the intrusion, raising his eyebrows and turning off the sander hastily.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He exclaimed, pulling the mask down over his mouth. "What are you doing in here, Amelia?"

She shrugged, shuffling her feet nervously. It felt weird to be in the room. It was empty now, save for the shelves still attached to the wall and several boxes in the closet. "The noise woke me up," she said honestly, coming to stand closer to Olly. "I got curious."

"Ah," he said before frowning. "I'm sorry to wake you."

She waved it off with her hand, tightening the belt around her waist as she came to a stop right beside them. "Don't be, it's late anyways." She looked down at the electric sander in his hand. "So what are you doing in here anyways?"

Olly set the sander on the ground before stepping back and folding his hands over his chest. "I figured this room could use a little renovating. I mean, it's going to no use here being empty and well," he pulled the trilby off his head and ran a hand through his hair, "Tom sucked at the up-keep. This room has needed painting since before we even moved in here."

Amelia nodded in agreement. "He never liked doing household chores," she said briskly, "So he had to deal when I accidentally dyed his socks pink."

Olly laughed before turning to look her in the eye and she suddenly felt the breath knock out of her. His smile was lopsided and his hair was tousled and messy, sticking in every direction from his hat. His bluey greeny eyes were sparking and dancing in mirth as they watched her and she was completely taken away.

For the first time, she noticed that Olly Murs was kind of good looking. Not even kind of good looking, but really, really good looking.

Taking the information, she filed it in the back of her mind and looked at him strangely. He was still staring and hadn't said anything. "What?" she asked, laughing slightly.

"Nothing," he said, still grinning. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she responded quietly. "That was a little delayed."

Olly shrugged before leaning over to examine his work. "Everything's been a little delayed with us, in case you haven't noticed."

She smiled at this, a sentence that in the past otherwise would have put poison in her veins. He was right about that one, but they were making slow progress. They could be considered friends now, couldn't they? Acquaintances, at the very least. It was nice, either way.