Diamondback

21: Gray Eyes

Oliver didn't come back the next day.

Or the day after that or the week after that.

What do I expect? He has school. He can't always go out of his way to spend time with me. But after what he told me the last time we saw each other, a dreaded sense of helplessness sat in the pit of my stomach. All I could do was hope that he cut off ties with that shitty math teacher. Still, that might be virtually impossible, considering the fact that Olly was required to take his class and everyone that knew of what was happening didn't care enough to help. How could they live with themselves?

I haven't exactly left the house lately either. Nearly the entire population of Roseorn was still obsessed with having my head on a silver platter. I hate feeling trapped like this. And I hated not knowing how Oliver was doing even more.

I should check on him.

Ignoring Chewy's objections against my decision, I grabbed Mrs. Nicklewitch's coat and marched out the door towards Roseorn. The sun had just begun falling out of the sky by the time I left. It was a Saturday, so that means he should be home.

The path through the forest was completely clear of any debris or scatterbrained animals. As I hurried through the city, most of the typically busy citizens had been out of the way of my beeline to the Gotō Family Mansion.

A few lavish cars sat in the spotless driveway.

Dammit. I can't just bust through the door and sniff around freely. There had to be some other way in.

I circled the perimeters of the manor to find a few loosely opened windows covered by heavy velvet drapes from the inside. If I choose the wrong room, that could be the absolute end of me.

Bouncing between decisions, I settled for the darkest window with no remnants of light seeping out between the drapes. Nobody could be sitting around in the dark, right? If they were, they may just take my title for Scariest Person in Roseorn.

I slid the window open as quietly as possible, slipped in, and slowly shut it behind me. The room I ended up in would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the filtered rays of sunlight from outside. Even so, my eyes had to adjust to the sudden change in light. The marble floor beneath me was smooth and shiny and cold. A pristine chandelier squeaked to and fro above my head.

In front of me was a large, antique grand piano.

As if my body wanted to move on its own, I found myself moving closer to it. My claws tapped away at the keys, playing the only thing I barely knew -- Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

"O-Oliver."

"You say something?"

"I'm-I'm Oliver. I-It's...It's nice to meet you."

Immediately, a tight aching band panged around my head.

I've been here before.

I played the song again.

"Next Beethoven, amirite?"

"Do you even know how to play the piano?"

"Not at all. What? You got somethin' better?"

And again.

"Hey, uh, Olly?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Don't worry about it too much, okay?"

"Okay..."

"A-And if it makes you feel any better...it wasn't bad at all."