3~ In This Same Bed

My hands interlocked with his and we walked home in the night. I was tired, clacking my boots against the hard ground systematically. My palms now went to Oliver's arm and stayed there.

"You know it's always beautiful at night. Yet the craziest things happen. Whoo!" I went to the side of the lonely street to climb on something high.

"Be careful," Oliver urged.

"Scary cat."

"Crazy," He insulted.

I held his arm then slowly let go thinking he'd catch me quickly but I was dead wrong and fell ass flat on the ground.

"Sorry,"

"Aww," I was still on the ground. I attempted rising but failed and my leg was bent due to my heel boots. "Now I'm injured, I can't walk. You'll have to carry me."

Oliver inquired simultaneously carrying me, "Why do I feel I'm always being used by you?"

"Cuz you're meant to be," I playfully kicked the side of his leg as though urging a horse. "Now go, giddyap!"

We both chuckled.

Oliver took me home, to his home. I went in and took up a glass filling it with water from a jug.

"Nelle," Oliver called my name in a husky tone as though there was some issue to worry about. That was his voice when he had something giving him concern on the inside.

"What?"

There was silence, as if he swallowed back his thoughts. "You can sit over there."

I sat on the bed, which he had pointed. I then squeezed the sheets like I had something troubling me. 'What was I doing here?'

Oliver sat on the bed, then laid. As I have gotten use to, he took off his shirt— something he usually did when he wanted to sleep or was alone. (This was totally normal) He faced up and so did I (after laying my body).

"I dont want you to go." He looked at me expecting a reply. "To Paris."

"Why don't you want me to go?"

"Well.. y-you can go wherever you want, you're rich and all you have to do is to continuously tell your father. He'll listen."

"And you can't go wherever you want?"

"Yeah. Because of you." Oliver faced me.

I rolled out of bed as I spoke this, "Well I have to go now before my grumpy guard finds us. It's gonna be really," I gestured. "Weird."

I then adjusted my barret to one side. "Bye Oliver," He replied, simultaneously heading to the bathroom.

"Bye, Nelle." He closed his bathroom door.

~*~

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|n the morning

Father had a big mug of coffee, one of the best collections of ceramics and a large sized newspapers spread across his face.

My cute sister, Vivian went under Papa's chair and gingerly collected the baked cookies he had on his plate, while I just stared, watching Papa soliloquize to himself about politics and the country's poor health and wealth state.

Father's 'alone time madness' was funny but what was funnier was eight years old Vivian stealing his cookies. This was at our living room and daddy was seated on his (that chair that goes back and forth) my cute blonde sibling then saw me and giggled, this surprisingly earned her a thump on top of her head.

She had forgotten she was below a tight object and that giggle turned into an ear-blasting whine.

Father then noticed and called the nurse to take her up. I was by the door side in a hidden area sighting all this because my male parent had requested my audience.

"Yes, Dad."

"Amnelle, come in." I made my way in. "You must've heard of the upcoming economic failure. (Of course, father liked talking about about things that may or may not happen. Highly not happen and sure, I read the newspapers like him. He believes everything he sees on the newspapers)"

"I believe everything will be fine—" he cut me short by a raised palm.

"Your mum and I have made preparations. You're going to college."

"Of course, I will go to college."

"Not here."

There was a confused silence.

"Of course not now. But we thought since it's always been your dream, we'll let you go abroad sooner than expected." My eyes split into half as slowly my heart thuded to the sudden comprehension and realization. "You're going to Paris."