COLD HANDS• VOLTURI KINGS

CHAPTER FIVE

Oliver tries his best to ignore the things he just read, and he curses the guilt that seems to churn within him. ‘Why should I feel guilty, I’ve not done anything!’ It seems like a massive joke to him. He gets thrown head first into a world of vampires and soulmates completely unwillingly, and yet he feels bad. Nothing makes sense. ‘Jesus, these kings are already messing with my head’

Perhaps he shouldn't ignore it, run away from it like a frightened child. Perhaps he should ask somebody with seemingly endless knowledge. Maybe…no. Surely that would be a stupid decision? Aro seems to be too close to the situation, but he has to seek them out eventually, doesn't he? He doesn't feel confident in his ability to discuss any concerns with any vampires without a soulmate bond to stop them from killing him then and there. He hates to admit it, but a small part of him wants to see Aro. Was that wrong? It didn't necessarily feel wrong.

Before he had even come to a decision, he had arrived outside his study. He hadn't even realised he knew the way there on his own. It's like his feet had memorised nothing in the castle apart from the path to his ‘soulmates.' The word still felt stiff.

Standing in front of the tall, intimidating door, he raises his hand to knock and falters. What if Aro isn't there? What if he doesn't wish to see him? Stupid thoughts. He doesn't knock. He supposes he would run away in the time it takes the vampire to answer. But he feels a strange sense of disappointment in seeing the room vacant of all beings, living or otherwise. He doesn't leave, despite the fact he probably should. Allowing himself free reign to the plethora of books, he eagerly reads the many titles, well, only the ones in english, many of them are in languages he can't decipher and some are in ones he can, like Italian, Greek, and Spanish.

The thought of him facing the consequences of being in the study unattended did not deter him, because surely if he were being practically forced to stay in the castle, he should be able to explore all parts of it? Or was this a Beauty And The Beast situation in which he can not access the West Wing? Anyway, curiosity took over and he drank in the entire room, for it truly is exquisite, more so when it’s not filled with creatures whose food source is one of the main things keeping him alive. The fire burned brightly, filling the room with sharp, pleasing crackles, and a sweet amber light. With the curtains drawn, it felt like late evening. It felt sort of nice and oddly homey.

Instead of choosing an informative book on vampires, he chooses a more familiar tale, an Athurian retelling, with strange, outdated pictures in it. He sits on the armchair once again and crosses his legs in an almost childish manner. He reads the words printed on the paper but does not retain any of the information they hold. His body feels all too aware of his surroundings and the person who owned the study he had stolen into. Aro wouldn't be mad, would he?

He thinks back to what Demetri had said, Kill you? They'd surely go mad with grief. He tries to dull his worried thoughts with that, despite how drastic it is. Oliver forces his eyes to actually soak up the words, and for a short second, he feels content. The crackling of the fire is a comfort, and the book feels solid within his grip. It grounds him and makes him feel less like he's going insane. He goes on like that for another thirty minutes or so,  Oliver can't really tell as there are no clocks available for view. But of course, like every happy moment, it crashes and burns.

“Oliver.”

At the sound of his name, he jumps up and closes the book with a jerky movement of his hand. He looks up, suddenly filled with fear. Why had he done this? Why must he be so utterly stupid?

Aro does not look angry, though. Rather, he looks almost pleased. He stands by the door, staring so intently that Oliver is sure he wore a look at me! sign. “Hi.” He says stupidly. “This is probably, um, weird. Sorry, I'll go, " he says, looking down and moving to get up. Aro moves forward and places a hand on his shoulder to push him back into his seat. But as soon as contact is made, Aro's eyes gloss over, and for just a slight second,  he is no longer there, instead in some far away land. The vampire steps back, face briefly frantic. He smiles and gestures to the desk, "Please, Oliver, you came here for a reason. Let's sit, " and so he does.