Empty Boxes

Chapter Seven

AN: special Oliver pov chapter oh no

Oliver knew he was in the wrong here.

He may have been drunk last night, but the sight of George's face, looking at him with fear and anger in his beautiful brown eyes, shook him to his bones. But he couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut, couldn't seem to stop making things worse.

He wanted George back.

He would've had to have been blind to ignore the way that blonde man looked at George, his Georgie. The love in his eyes, the way he held George in his arms so tenderly, so carefully-

That just won't do.

Edward told him he was crazy, that he was just possessive. That he should just move on and be happy with him, how he was better than George. No one was better than George.

And that's why he had to get him back. That's why the blonde man - Clay - had to go.

Nothing could get in his way.

Possessiveness was a fickle word, and Oliver acted it out perfectly.

He woke up the next morning with a raging headache that made him wince, the sunlight coming through the windows only amplifying his pain. Edward lay in bed beside him, scrolling through some social media that Oliver couldn't care to look at.

"Good morning," Edward said stiffly, sounding pissed. Oliver sat up and ran a hand through his hair.

"Good morning."

Ed put his phone down in his lap, clasping his hands together. "We need to talk."

Oliver sighed and got out of bed. "Can it wait?" he said irritably, meandering over to the bathroom. "I'm not really in the mood."

"But if it were George, this would be different, wouldn't it?"

Oliver stopped, hand on the bathroom doorknob. "What?"

Edward stood up slowly, stretching his arms over his head. "You heard me," he said, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "You treat him differently than you do me. You're still in love with him, aren't you?"
Oliver barked out a dry laugh, opening the bathroom door and stepping inside. "Don't be dumb," he said smoothly.

"Then why do you keep going back to him?"
Oliver shook his head. "I was drunk, Edward. I wasn't thinking."

"That's the thing, Olly," Edward snapped. "You never think when it comes to him. Every day, it's the same shit - 'I wonder how George is doing, I should call him, he probably isn't caring for himself.' All of this shit. Do you ever stop to think how that makes me feel?"

Oliver frowned. "We were together for two years, Ed," he said. "Forgive me for not being completely over him. It's only been a week."
"And how long have we been together?" Edward pointed out, his eyes angry. "We were together two months before you finally ended it with George."

Oliver turned around to face him, eyes narrowing. "Where are you going with this?"
"You're obsessed!" Edward cried, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "You can't ever stop talking about him, it's always George this and George that - it's embarrassing, Oliver!"

"I am not obsessed," Oliver snapped, striding towards his lover and leaning down to get in his face. Edward took a shaky step back, his eyes clouding over with hesitance. "Don't talk about things that you don't understand. It's not your business."
"But it should be my business," Edward shot back. "In case you can't seem to remember, we're dating, Olly. We love each other."
Oliver said nothing.
"Olly?"

"Don't call me that," he muttered, turning away to stalk back to the bathroom. Edward scoffed in disbelief.
"You can't even tell me you love me anymore. What happened?"
Oliver couldn't reply, instead just letting the bathroom door click shut behind him. He turned the shower on and then gripped the sides of the sink, glaring heatedly at himself in the mirror. A dry laugh forced its way out of his mouth.

Obsessed? He wasn't obsessed. He was just...in love.

Right?

Edward wouldn't have anything to do with him for the rest of the day, shooting him glares every time he entered the same room of the house. This irritated him.

"Would you quit looking at me like that?" he said sharply, the fourth time this happened. Edward looked up from his spot on the couch and glared at him.

"Would you rather me look at you the way you look at George?"
Oliver clenched his jaw and left the room, grabbing his coat and keys before leaving the house. The door slammed shut behind him.

He was sick of this.

But it wasn't going to be that easy for him to escape. The world hated him.

He had merely wanted to grab some things to make dinner for Edward, as a sort of apology. Why were they here at the exact same time?

George wasn't smiling, but his eyes seemed a little lighter than they were when he had been over. His friends were laughing loudly, causing people to stare at them in the aisles of the shop.

Oliver ducked behind a display of fruits and watched as they walked past him. They were talking about some coding project that he didn't understand. George was checking out some sort of sauce packet, seeming to not be too interested.

He couldn't help himself.

"George?"

AN: i wanted you guys to get to know Oliver a little better, since his original character that i had planned out is nothing how he actually turned out. let me know what you guys think of his point of view! <3