. . .
Olivia Woods
I gave Zavier ice and sweatpants (which were Ivan's) and then hid in my room. Neither Ivan nor Daisy had shown the least amount of surprise with Zavier's being here, they had only looked confused when I said he'd stay in the guestroom.
Everyone thought the breakup didn't happen, even after the news of Ashton's...wedding.
I knew they'd have to eventually do their duties. That didn't mean that the headline didn't burn a hole through my heart.
I changed into another giant T-shirt and comfortable shorts. I looked at the canvas sitting in the corner of my room, completely black with a hint of color in the middle. I wasn't an abstract person, but there were times I just needed to smear my hands into paint and let them sculpt.
The storm only seemed to have gotten worse. It roared and made the whole city tremble. The lightning struck, several times, making it hard to fall asleep, but easier to be alive. The storms were beautiful. Chaos was always addicting.
So eventually, after an hour of turning in my bed, writing in my journal (which must be sick of the sad things I wrote), and glaring at my sketchbook when I couldn't draw anything, I decided to walk out of my room.
The living room was empty. Ivan was probably sleeping in his room - or her room. Zavier's door was firmly shut.
I lay down on the couch, looking out of the apartment through a giant window. This is life now. Beautiful city. Terrible mind.
"....yes she asked me to stay, because of the storm." Zavier shut his door, walking towards the open kitchen. "Yeah, she knew. She didn't sound happy about it. No one is fucking happy about it."
"I am fucking fine, Ashton. These bruises don't even hurt. No, I didn't ice them."
"Olivia is sleeping. Pick me up in the morning, I don't think she'll be happy to let me go on my bike. 'Night. No, I don't know where my phone is."
I blinked, trying to listen to what he was doing. I was curled into a ball on the couch.
I turned my head and almost screamed. "Zavier!"
He raised his eyebrows and straightened up. "Someone was eavesdropping."
"I wasn't. You just didn't notice me."
He shook his head and sat down on a chair near me. And that was when I realized he was half naked - which made sense because I only have his sweatpants. He didn't like to sleep in a T-shirt.
I sat up, tucking my knees to my chest and the thin blanket I had on my lap.
I noticed the extra ink on his forearms. He had gotten more tattoos. The lines seemed to intertwine, leaves hung from them. They were beautiful.
Zavier didn't speak for a while.
"You should be sleeping."
"I can't. The storm is too loud."
I grabbed the remote. "Do you want to watch something?"
"Like?"
"I don't know. Whatever bad movie is making money?"
He lifted a shoulder slightly. "Okay."
I selected a random one, just to have something fill the silence between us.
I set my head on the armrest. I could almost smell him. I had almost forgotten how he smelt like, how he seemed to have heat waves coming off of him.
I tucked the blanket to my chest, watching the movie.
"I thought you didn't have your phone."
"I got one of Ivan's."
"How many phones does he have?"
"Five, I think. He is obsessed with technology."
"Well, he does look like a nerd."
"One of your kind, then."
I smiled. "Artistic nerds are very different. We look cooler."
"Explains the charcoal stains on your cheek."
"What?" I sat up and looked at my hands, and sure enough, there were so many stains because of the failed sketching attempt. Much has made its way to my face. I sighed and laid back down. "Doesn't matter. At this point, I can probably eat charcoal."
We watched the movie in silence. It was some sci-fi movie, based on a book, and probably completely butchering it.
"Olivia."
"Zavier."
He didn't say anything.
He looked deep in thought for a while and then finally, spoke up. "Are you okay?"
I smiled. "Of course."
"You've never been good at lying, Olivia. You have many tells."
"I am...better." I sat up. "I...I started going to a therapist. He has helped me a lot with....well, all of it."
He smiled a soft smile. "I'm proud of you."
My heart warmed. "Thank you," I whispered. I tugged my hair away from my face. "You should rest. You're hurt."
"I don't sleep during the night now."
"Vampire?"
"A new one," he said with a chuckle. "Don't know what the fuck is going on. But...night brings comfort."
I looked at the bruises on his knuckles, and then the one at his face. It was too dark to see if any other part of him was bruised, too. "Did you apply ice, Zavier?"
"...Not really."
"You should." I looked at his beautiful face. "Those bruises don't belong on you."
He gulped. "I..." He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I think they do."
"That's not true," I said. "You're a lot more than what you were born into. You deserve comfort, not blows to the head and bloody knuckles."
His face softened so much that I half expected him to reach out and cup my face. But then it hardened. "You can't say things like that anymore, Olivia."
I nodded. "You're right."
"Don't look like that."
"Like what?"
"Sad."
"I am alright. I'm not sad."
"Don't lie to me." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. I gulped. "I don't like that look on your face, Kitten. But I can't have you say shit like that, and then not be mine."
I gulped, into into his intense eyes. Finally not dead.
"I'm just being nice," I said.
"Well, don't." He sat back, his tatted torso on full display. "Don't be nice to me."
"You'd rather have me agree?"
"I'd rather have you not say anything."
I stood. "I'll go sleep, now. There are snacks in the pantry, and too many drinks in the fridge."
I wrapped the blanket tighter around me and walked away.
Or, at least tried to.
He grabbed the blanket and tugged me. I fell against his body and gasped as he wrapped his arm around me.
"Don't run from me," he almost growled into my year. "I'm trying to honor your wish to be separated. But I have my limits, Olivia. I have my fucking limits."
He cupped my jaw and tugged my head up. He looked down at me, strands of his hair falling over his forehead. "I am sorry about everything that happened," he whispered. "We loved you wrong."
"I didn't ask for help-"
"I was your daddy," he muttered. "I was supposed to notice, Kitten. I didn't. That was me failing."
"It's okay-"
"It isn't. I paid my price."
He turned me around, looking down at me. "Can I take you in my arms?"
I wordlessly nodded.
He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me to the ground, tugging me to his chest. I gasped at the lift, but snuggled my face into the crook of his neck, wrapping my arms around him.
He kept me like that for a while.
And then he set me down and walked away.
. . .
I stood beside Zavier, an umbrella over my head, as a car slowed down in front of us.
The doors opened and Ashton and Xerxes stepped out.
They looked at me, and they looked no better than Zavier.
Xerxes nodded with a forced smile. Ashton just nodded and I couldn't meet his eyes.
"Thank you for letting me stay the night. I'll send someone to get the bike."
I smiled. "You're welcome, Zavier."
I walked to where Ivan was waiting for me. We usually walked to the university now.
I didn't allow myself to look over my shoulder at them, to wonder if they were looking.
"Miss Woods."
"Yes?" I replied to Ivan.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
. . .
"I still can't believe it."
I shrugged at Giovanni, and casually darkened the edges of my sketch. "It was bound to happen. It is because of his duty. And did you look at her? She is... ridiculously beautiful. She looks like she could grow pearly white wings and they wouldn't look out of place."
He laughed, picking up his coffee cup and taking a sip. "How long have you been thinking of that?"
"She's so beautiful I almost used her as a reference, Giovanni." I put my pencil down. "And she is a blond. He is blond. They look like some heavenly couple."
"Or siblings. Put them both in similar colour and they'll look like twin toddlers at a church."
I laughed. Giovanni never failed to make me laugh. It had been a blessing to have him as a friend.
It was nice to have people around who cared. Carrie, Miss Summers, Daisy, Giovanni, Ivan, and Declan. I did have some sort of a support system now. It felt nice. Like I finally had the safety net I had always craved.
"If it hurts you so much," he finally said. "Why don't you just tell them more willing to take them back if they don't make the same mistakes again?"
"They..." I sighed. "It feels selfish. To make them...care about me. I'm not the most 'chill' girlfriend, I suppose." I bit into a fry. "What if they say no?"
"What if they say yes?"
"A question is not an answer."
"It can be."
"Only if you're annoying."
"Hey, I am paying for this. You should be nice to me."
"This-"I waved one fry in front of his face. "-can't do anything to the black money you have."
He smirked. "At least I am not a broke artist living commission to commission."
I sighed. I was living like that now. After the apartment, I don't take anything from my mother. And now I was just dependent on my commissions - which aren't a lot when you're starting, even if you have the last name 'Woods' which represents one of the best artists in the world.
Well, the best fake artist. But the world was unaware of my father's ways.
"I am just fine."
"You need money. You can't live off just a few thousand, Olivia. This is Paris."
"I am not asking my mom for money. Her money comes with expectations. Even though she has, to a certain degree, become bearable. I don't doubt she'd want to control me again if I take her money."
"I have a shit ton of money."
"I am never taking money from you."
"Why? Is my black money not good enough?"
"It's not about black money, Giovanni. My mother is the wife of a politician, so her money is black too. I just want to be freed of everything that makes me feel guilty."
He stole a fry, dipping it in ketchup. "To freedom, then." He raised his glass of coke.
If someone had told my eighteen-year-old self that I would one day be having a casual lunch with a Valentino, I would have written them down in a journal as 'insane'.
It is weird - how life twists are turns.
. . .
*Just fucking sleeps*