Games

5

You know those really awkward, uncomfortable social situations that you sometimes find yourself in that make you want to crawl away like a stray dog with its tail tucked between its legs? We've all experienced them, some more than others, but we all know how that feels.

That was the exact situation I was in as I sat in a small café with Oliver, who was seated across from me in the small booth, looking ridiculously attractive as he stirred a spoon around his coffee cup absentmindedly.

Like I said, I wanted to know more about him. I wouldn't allow myself to keep messing around with him behind people's backs unless I knew the type of person he was. For all I know I could be fucking serial killer. It was unlikely, but you never know.

It had only been three days since they showed up at my house, and I hadn't spoken to them since. The only way I got ahold of Oliver was stalking Facebook and somehow finding and adding him to find out that he rarely used it. I barely went on it either, but that was a last resort type of thing. I was too scared to text Matt and ask for his number because I didn't want him to grow suspicious, so that was all I had left. I messaged him at 10am the day before and by 7 at night he had replied with his number, in which I texted him and asked him to get lunch with me here.

So there we were, sitting in silence for the first few minutes. I wasn't a very good conversation starter - yeah, I know, shocking right? Especially when it was Oliver who said something to me first and that's how all this happened.

Once again, as if it were so unpredictable, Oliver was the first to say something.

"So why'd you want to take me out on this cute little date?" He asked with a crooked smile, obviously toying with me. Not that it bothered me any; I was used to his confident, playful remarks already.

"Well," I began, clearing out my throat and sitting upright more. "You know how we've been..." I made a face, trying to hint him into what I was talking about.

"Fucking," he said simply, confirming what I meant rather loudly in the tiny restaurant. Thank god there weren't many people in the place with us, and those who were were elderly and probably in need of a new hearing aid.

"Uh, yeah, that," I continued. "Well I like it and all and I am totally okay with it, but it's just... I don't really know anything about you, you know? Like, what's your last name, and how old are you, and if you have any siblings or what your favorite type of music is and... I just know nothing about you. And I'd like to. Because this whole secret affair thing is great, but I'm kind of uncomfortable having sex with someone I really don't know."

I gave him a few moments to let everything I said sink in. To be frank it looked like he quite needed it, his gaze blank as he stared at me silently, leant back in his chair with his hands folded over his stomach. He squinted a few times, eyelids closing around his deep brown eyes before he sat forward and rested his clasped hands on the table, forearms and all.

"Alright listen up then. My name's Oliver, as you already know. Last name Sykes, middle name Scott. I'm not opposed to being called Oli but usually only by people I'm comfortable around. I'm 19, almost 20. I have a brother named Tom; he's 16, about to attend college over at fuck knows where, I'm not too sure to be honest. I like deathcore, metalcore, emo and everything in between. I'm from Sheffield, Yorkshire, but that you already know. I moved down here to get the hell away from that town and start anew. Oh, and if you must know, I'm clean from any STDs and shit and I always have been. I may not be too careful with choosing random people to fuck, but I'm always protected... Happy now?"

I nodded. "Definitely."

~Two Weeks Later~

There was something about the way a person stared at you before you had sex; some people had this look, some people didn't. It was hard to explain, but could only be defined as want. Their eyes grow dark - no matter what color, pupils dilate, an almost cloudy glossiness glazes over their eyes. And Oliver? Oliver definitely had this look. It was in his eyes every time we had sex, which was usually every other day for the past two weeks.