Oliver should have known something was not right when Duncan came and escorted him to an office. But truth be told he was too preoccupied with how Belle looked. her attire was not what he expected for someone going to a funeral in a few. She was adorned in black yes, but she was dressed, well like herself. it was a short black dress, dark tights, and red bottom heels. and her lips were back to her signature red. Gone was the haunted look.
"ah Ollie" She greeted, putting a stack of papers she was holding down, grabbing a prepared glass of red wine from the desk, and walking towards him.
"You look well." He smiled warmly. taking the glass from her "None for you?" he asked, she usually preferred red.
She giggled shaking her head "White today for me" She answered, walking back towards the desk, gracefully picking the crystal glass up before turning to lean against the desk.
She took a long sip, her eyes watching him over the rim of her glass till Oliver followed suit, the taste feeling more bitter than usual, a warm tingle shooting all over his body as he swallowed, he shivered involuntarily.
"Are you ready for today?" he asked kindly "I know it's been very hard lately." he sadly smiled.
"Yes." she hummed standing straight. "Things have seemed to gotten out of hand, haven't they." her head tilted, the blue in her eyes darkening.
Oliver pitifully smiled before taking another large gulp to escape her eyes, he felt they would set him alight where he stood. "They are in a better place, less pain." he offered.
there it was again, that look he hadn't seen since school. the dead doll.
He fought back a flinch at her abrupt laughter. She shook her head setting her glass down.
"Oh Oliver." she purred, there was a very dark look in her eyes when she turned back to him, a crooked smirk on her lips. He was beginning to feel as if he was on trial.
"Have-have I said something to upset you." he meekly asked, he couldn't recognize her at this very moment. this wasn't his Annabel Lee.
"Said something?" she asks, her head tilting mockingly.
Oliver downed the rest of his glass before setting it down and taking a step towards her, "You aren't acting like yourself love." He tried "Should I call for someone?" he asked worried for her safety.
"I am just fine." she hummed "Perfect even. Everything is just perfect." she bit her lip as she smiled. Her eyes moved to something behind him, her smile widening. Oliver turned to look but was shoulder-checked by the taller man as he passed him.
Oliver's eyes widened as he stared at the back of what should have been a ghost. Belle giggled, throwing her arms around the man's neck, her polished nails gripping his blonde hair "I have missed you." she moaned, connecting their lips.
"Il mio cuore" (my heart) he groaned into their kiss.
No no no NO NO Oliver very loudly cleared his throat.
When they turned towards him, the face of the man that had been haunting him was not one he was expecting.
It couldn't have been, but here he stood, clad in leather, his arm tightly wrapped around Belle who curled rather submissively into his side.
Oliver's mouth opened and closed several times, wanting to ask some unknown question.
How did he miss it?
From the very beginning, he had been there and Oliver had missed it.
His nightmares, the thought lingering in the back of his mind, the eyes that watched everyone, hissed in his ear.
There were no ghosts all along, no one-time quicky on the forest floor, just a man.
Just a man who very clearly had the devotion of Annabel Lee
There was just...
Michael Fucking Gavey.
"Hello Oliver" he smirked. "I did try to warn you to stay away." he hummed.
"I don't-How" Oliver grimaced, a sharp pain running through his chest.
"Do you remember the story I told you about my father?" Belle giggled.
Oliver's eyebrows creased; his lungs slowly started to hurt. "Well, you see, I didn't tell you the full story." she sang, her nails running up and down the center of Michael's chest. "That best friend, the greedy whore, well she wasn't alone, she had a son, a perfect son." she purred momentarily looking up at Michael who met her gaze.
"But daddy didn't want him, Michael wasn't of his blood. tainted he called him. Can you believe that?" she scowled. "He tried to toss him out just like my mother's things. But I kept him, hid him. I couldn't just let him go, Michael is my soul." she smiled "And then when Daddy finally died we were able to live in peace once more."
Oliver coughed, leaning on the back of the closest chair for support. "Can't forget Felix my love" Michael hummed humorously.
"No no of course not" she gasped "When we moved here, Felix and I easily meshed together, like a pulse to a heart. But he knew how detrimentally important Michael was to me, so we worked out sort of an arrangement." she waved, not caring for going into the logistics of it all.
"Why-why?" Oliver rasped, haphazardly collapsing into a chair, no longer having the strength to stand.
"Because we knew you," Michael answered. "Just like my father" Belle added.
"So greedy, so consuming. ruining everything you touch." Michael hissed. "We couldn't have that; we knew you would go for the shiniest things. So, I waited for you. just patiently waiting at the table for the luckless and marginalized."
"And just on cue you always played into our expectations." Belle giggled.
"Although," Michael's lips pursed, his nose scrunching in disgust "We did not expect you to search for a nameless rock, nor go as far to fuck an empty grave." He looked at the pitiful display that was left of Oliver up and down "Can't say I'm surprised though."
Oliver's head was foggy as he coughed harder this time. Nameless, empty.
Nameless. empty.
Nameless. empty.
His face must have given away his confusion. "Oh, Poor poor Ollie. you still don't get it do you." Belle pouted. walking towards him and sitting on the coffee table. "Though I can't say I'm surprised. you never stayed. You never actually saw them die, did you?" Belle whispered.
"Conclusions can be so deceiving." Michael chortled, setting the now empty red wine bottle down on the coffee table next to Belle before resting his hands on her shoulders.
A cold horror filled Oliver, it wasn't just a wine bottle, it was the wine bottle, Felix-
"Miss me, Ollie?" Felix asked walking into the room, followed by Venetia and Farleigh.
it took only a moment for him to realize, Oliver couldn't help but laugh as his body began to O.D.
Belle was never the object of rewarding temptation, a thing to be won.
She was the temptation, the apple, the pomegranate, Annabel Lee was damnation.
And Oliver had taken every crumb she had offered, the spirit of deceit floating on her cherry wine lips, her poisonous kiss claiming the foolish.
And Michael Gavey was her false prophet who preached and condemned those around him. But he was part of the swine, a devil in disguise, a heretic, the dark horse.
foam began to flow out of Oliver's mouth as his life drifted, like a fleeting memory.
・❥・
clay and paint glued to the arm of a theater major, red bath dye tablets bubbling deep in the water under her body.
An empty coffin was brought up from the Halloween decorations, a plain black rock tucked in a wool pocket.
Henry the gardener passing by windows with the curtains drawn, the wheels of his cart creaking under the weight of the new fertilizer.
A call never made to the police.
a thumb in the bottle, giving the illusion of drinking.
Farleigh and Michael standing in the gardens wearing masks as Belle tried, her best to scream horrified. dyed corn syrup smeared on the blade.
clear drops poured into a single wine bottle that would be served only to Oliver during supper.
Coded texts sent back and forth as Oliver left the dorms.
A background check passed through multiple hands before being tucked away into a binder that read History of Art.
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