COLD HANDS• VOLTURI KINGS

CHAPTER FOUR

Oliver is woken up by the sunlight streaming through the large hexagon shaped window. He groans and groggily rubs sleep from his eyes. Leaning up and stretching he stares at his room, still doubting its realness. It is still just as beautiful as last night. Sun drenches the furniture, it wraps everything in an angelic glow. 

There's breakfast on a shiny silver tray on the empty desk, the book has been moved. He feels a pang of unease at any vampire sneaking their way through his room whilst he is asleep. He gets up and examines the simple portion of toast and orange juice, momentarily weighing the chances of it being poisoned. Deciding he was too tired and hungry to care, he eats and drinks the whole thing.

Then, with hunger subsided, he starts his search for clothes. There's a door next to one of the bookshelves, he opens it and exposes an extremely clean bathroom. He pauses. He does need a shower. All he needs to do is find clothes to change into. 

A large chestnut coloured dresser catches his eye, and upon opening it he finds what he's looking for: nice looking clothes. Selecting a simple navy blue t-shirt and jeans and a new pair of black boxers he decides he's good to go. The outfit is a bit boring, but it is better than being naked, he supposes. Entering the bathroom again and resting the pile of clothes on the counter,  he is pleased to find it well stocked with fruity scented shampoos, conditioners and all sorts of body scrubs. He removes his old clothing and steps beneath the steaming water. 

The sense of relief is instant, he sighs and leans against the wall. He prefers his showers to be scalding and this is perfect. He lathers his dark hair in a strawberry shampoo and runs his fingers through the wet locks. After washing that out and applying a conditioner of the same scent his mind wonders. What would happen today? Perhaps he could barricade the doors and ensure his safety, just in case.

The body wash he uses is apple scented, it's mouthwatering, he has to restrain himself from actually eating it.  After he's sure he no longer stinks of sweat from yesterday, he exits the shower and wraps an extremely soft white towel around his waist. He has to wipe the mirror a few times to get a clear view of his face, and surprisingly, he looks fine. Oliver was expecting to look traumatised with puffy eyes from crying, and all that was there was a slight bloodshot tinge to his eyes, nothing major. 

Relieved, he dresses himself and then stands aimlessly in the middle of his room. He feels like an intruder, an oddity. What was he going to do with himself all day? Perhaps he could try the door again, no, he figures another vampire would spring from nowhere and run off with him. Then he gets an idea. Approaching the window, he sits himself on the plush cushion and peers out. He finds himself actually gasping at the beauty of the gardens. 

It's quite literally something from a fairytale, with rows and rows of flowers and tall magnificent trees whose branches hang leisurely towards the ground. It's perfect. Racing to his discarded shoes and socks and putting them on, he speeds out of his door, worried that Demetri might appear and escort him back to his room. 

Many twists and turns later and he's still hopelessly lost, he's about to turn back when an unfamiliar icy hand touches him on the back. Fliching hard, he spins around to perhaps face Demetri or Jane, or some assailant vampire. He instead sees a beautiful woman with dark hair and the same gleaming red eyes. She's smiling at him like they've just shared a funny joke between them. "Oh, hi" Oliver says, slowly.

The woman laughs slightly, "Hello, my king. Are you lost?" She asks, face brimming with concern. Oliver blanches, "sorry, um, King?" He looks behind him to check he's not intruding on another's conversation, "I'm not a king." She laughs again. Oliver becomes increasingly more agitated at the feeling of not knowing what was going on.