I Wish We Met Sooner (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 14

Oliver

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT," HE GROANS. "For once, I'll listen to the only stranger I've set free and returned by his own will."

I actually did it. I convinced him to show me his appearance. Though he was hesitant, constantly reaching and pulling back.

Thankfully, mom and dad were kind enough to let me take a few more days off from college. However, I'm on medical leave, but my professors believed I had a lot of time to spare that they handed me the assignments and homework I missed while I was kidnapped. What an exciting way to wake up, and the first thing you see is your professors in the living room with your parents, chatting and handing assignments.

Not.

I threw the papers aside and focused on my agenda for today. And that is to visit Daniel once again. Mom and dad had no clue even when I assured them I'll be home throughout the day. They left for work and Emily for school while I got ready and cycled to the nearest McDonalds to get our takeaway. I wanted to get us McFlurry as well, but his apartment was twelve miles away, and by the time I got here, it would've melted.

Boy, was it a journey to Danny's place? Thankfully, I still had my backup phone, to which I used the GPS and found a shortcut that got me here earlier than expected. It was quieter than an ICU room when I rode by the neighbourhood. Not a single soul to be found.

It repulsed me to see the dead body of the man whom Danny killed last night was still lying by the road. I didn't need to stop to see it decaying with the help of pests and insects. The putrid smell nearly gagged me. I cycled even faster and arrived by his apartment, scared the other two guys from last night might be lurking around.

It took nearly four hours to get to his house, but hey, thanks to my stubbornness, I'm finally in. And I feel a lot safer.

As he reached for his mask, I had to put my burger aside to witness this once-in-a-lifetime moment to behold the face of the Red Demon. It's like an honour as I believe no one has seen his true identity before—aside from his grandfather—and I'm going to be the second person.

"I swear if you ever report my face—"

"I won't," I stopped him. "I promised, and you should learn to trust me a little."

He sighed, and in one fell swoop, his mask was off, and my eyes were now on his true identity. He has pale white skin as if he's an albino, but the red of his eyebrows, which matched the shade of his hair, proved he wasn't. His green eyes shared similarities with the most delicate jade stone ever known to man, and freckles carefully aligned by the bridge of his nose and cheeks. It horrified me to see a pinkish-red scar by the corner of his mouth, which goes up to his right ear.

"Now that you've seen my face," his husky voice sounded sharper than muffled. "I bet you'll stick your nose into places they don't belong to, right? For instance, the scar on my cheek."

"You're not wrong," I can't get my eyes off the scar. "How'd you get it?"

He reached for the fries and consumed many within seconds. It's a good thing I bought four large fries, so there's plenty.

"My dad," he spoke when he finished chewing. He has table manners, I see. "Long story short, this was his goodbye present to me the day he left."

"You guys were fighting?"

"He was drunk that night and somehow lost his mind and tried to kill me," he scoffs, but it sounded sad. "I missed when he charged at me with a kitchen knife in his hand and got this. I took his vodka bottle and slammed it against his head, knocking him out. I bled for hours next to him as he lay unconscious on the ground. I think I've lost close to six pints of blood."

I continued eating my burger, and he soon opened his. I got him a triple cheese beef burger and from the looks of his first bite, the way he stops and chews slowly and his eyes sparkling, he likes it. He took an even bigger second bite.

"Soon, I passed out and woke up drenched in my own dried blood. I checked every room in the house, and dad was not home. I assumed he went out to get some medical stuff for my wounds, so I waited, but he never returned. After three days, I was starving and weak, and I couldn't move. It felt like my time had come as I lay on the couch. But thankfully, grandpa found me on time and took me in. So, here I am," he finished his burger while I was still halfway done with mine.

"Do you think he left because he felt bad?" I asked.

"I don't know," he responded. "Back then, I would've forgiven him for giving me this scar, but I chose not to when he left. And probably never will."

"If it makes you feel better, you still look beautiful," I finally finished mine. My hands crumpled the wrapper before tossing it into the garbage bin. Great landing!

He side-eyed me, and this was the first time our eyes met. His true eyes. An entire universe is locked behind them, but I doubt his universe is a cheerful place considering the challenges he's been through, especially the days with his father.

"And what about you, Oliver Odin?" He teased, and I believe this was the first time he did so. Is he warming up to me? I hope so.

"What about me? And how did you know my last name?"

He pushed the paper bag towards me, where my full name was written in baby blue Sharpie. The employees must've written my name when I made the purchase.

"Odin, I dig that name. Odin's a magician among the gods and also the god of poets," he threw a nugget in his mouth. I took one too. "But why would a god give himself scars?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your arm. You think I didn't know that?"

My chin lowered to my arm to see the scars I've given to myself throughout the years. I can't remember how my arm used to look before it became such a hot mess. Or my body, for that matter.

"It's just something you do instead of killing yourself," I flipped my arm around, keeping the scars hidden.

"Sure," he sniggers sarcastically. "That explains why you're not scared of dying or me. Perhaps I really should've just killed you, huh?"

"There are many reasons why I don't fear death," I said, which was a reminder to myself. "I'm trying my best to get over it."

"Your parents made you do that?"

I shook my head. "Well, they play a minor role," I corrected. "Someone else played a huge role."

And I doubt she knows or cares about it.