Oscar is devastated when his boyfriend Andrew, is killed in action during a counterattack while they were serving in Iraq. When he takes a six months leave from his life as an active duty SEAL, Oscar hopes to do one thing: getting a grip on his crum...
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Ch. 8: Is it really hard to swallow?
“Are you all right, Oscar?” Ash asked, his expression filled with genuine concern. The guy had completely switched off making him feel bad for egging on his raw and possibly still tender emotions. “You don’t look too good.”
The hesitation was palpable, “Uh, y-yeah. I’m fine. I’m good.” Oscar said before ushering Ash further inside his apartment, precisely towards the room he was going to be occupying for the rest of the night. The SEAL also took immediate notice of an inquisitive look that was loitering in Ash’s hazel eyes. He chose to completely ignore it.
“Nice place you’ve got here.” Ash commented quietly as he took in the grandeur of Oscar’s home. It was simple, filled with accessories that displayed a sense of ancient history, playful details and a certain aesthetic perfection of modernness to it. All space utilized to the best of its ability.
“Thanks.” Oscar managed to push a notable smile on his lips. “This was my grandparents’ getaway place actually. They wanted a spot where they could feel the pulse of the city and mainly a good location for the bookstore, plenty of tourists come to visit the bay day in day out and some end up picking one or two books just for the sake of it.”
Ash nodded in understanding as he slowly shifted his eyes from an African safari silhouette painting to peek around. “What’s with all these paint cans anyway?” he gestured towards a pile of paint cans neatly stack up in a corner.
Oscar shrugged mindlessly. “I was going to have a makeover of this place but I guess I’m just too lazy to do so.”
Ash fixed his hands on his hips, his eyes never leaving the stocked paint as though he were running some calculations inside his head. “I can help you with that. I mean, that’s the least I could do for offering me a place to crash for the night.”
“That won’t be necessary, like I said before, you don’t have to pay me back.”
“What do you want then? There must be something I can give in return.” Ash didn’t beat around the bush. If there’s anything prison had taught him: you don’t want to move around owing anyone a favor. You’ll never know what despicable favor they’d ask from you in return later. “Oscar?” He rasped when the SEAL remained silent, obviously unnerved by the unexpected question.
“Nothing, unless you’re offering something I could enjoy?” Oscar answered smoothly, shocking every cell in Ash’s body. Was he still talking about painting the apartment or…
“Look, can we just reach a consensual agreement saying I offered you a place to crash for the night and I don’t want anything from you?” Ash could feel those piercing blue eyes on him which made his heart beat stutter for a second.
“All right, I get it.” Seems like the man was not going to change his mind anytime soon. He was no pushover. Instead of making a big fuss out of it, Ash thanked Oscar one last time before he left for the kitchen. He then made himself comfortable. Taking a quick glance on his watch, Ash groaned wondering why Chris hadn’t returned any of his voicemails up until now.
