Cupcake & I

22

pov : aira

The slight movement of his chest beneath my palm made me look up to check if he was awake. Sure enough, he was wide awake. His blue eyes were wide and frantic. He shot upright in bed and looked around. I remained quiet, letting the surroundings sink in his mind. After only a moment of silence, his eyes met mine and just as usual, it made my stomach tingle with sparks.

He looked at the bed and looked back at me once again. I smiled at his confused expression. He looked down at his palm and saw the cloth wrapped around it. He frowned.

"You cut your palm. You got drunk." I said to ease his confusion. "I brought you here. I thought it would help you forget things. Are you okay no—"

My body got lifted into the air and when I was placed down, I was sitting on his warm and comforting lap. My cheeks tinted themselves red as he kissed my cheek, hugging me closer towards him. "I'm sorry Cupcake. I'm so sorry—"

"No. Don't say that," I said, looking up at him. The proximity between us made my heart beat fast and he smiled widely before he reached forward and pecked my nose. "I love your nose. It's cute."

I giggled like a love-sick teenager at what he said and he stroked my cheek before his face turned serious. I could hear the gears turning in his head. He seemed like he was trying hard not to think of something. I frowned before reaching for his cheek. I stroked his soft skin softly and his skin tensed at my touch. He leaned further into my palm and I felt my heart flutter at his action. He looked up at me and he sighed out a breath, looking more relaxed now.

"It's just—I was having a very bad day." Oliver brushed it off and I felt my heart sink at his response. There was a slight tremble in his bottom lip.

"You can tell me you know," I said, seeing the reason why he doesn't want to tell me. He is scared that I would think low of him. He rested his forehead against mine and I pursed my lips. "Tell me your story. I'll listen."

"I'm not perfect Cupcake." He whispered and I smiled before lifting his head to make him look at me.

"I'm not perfect either—"

"Don't say that. You are the most perfect person I have ever met. You are the definition of perfect for me. Perfect should try to be you." He whispered against my lips. My heart flew at what he said and I almost wanted to kiss him right there and then. "I'm amazed when I look at you. Not just because of your looks, but because everything I have ever wanted is right in front of me."

"Oliver..." I stroked his cheek, almost feeling teary-eyed as goosebumps erupted on my skin at the amazing feeling he was making me go through. My heart hammered against my chest and I wanted to stay there forever, just listening to his velvety voice until my heart stops.

"Nobody is perfect Oliver. Everyone was born to be real. We are all damaged by the world but we come out strong and better without letting it control us. That's what makes everyone real. Not perfect." I said and he let out a deep breath before looking at my hand. His hand reached both of my hands and he started fiddling with him. I could tell he didn't mean to do that. He was doing it subconsciously. He looked like he was thinking of something far away in his mind, in another world.

"Yesterday was my father's death day." He said, his voice cracking a little in the end and it made my heart crack a little. I could tell how difficult it was for him to talk about this. "He was my hero. My inspiration. My teacher. My idol." He sighed and intertwined his hand with mine, holding them tight as it supported him to stay strong.

"He died a few years ago." He explained and I held onto his hand tighter. "Everything was perfect when he was alive. He kept everyone strong." I imagined his life in my mind, thinking of a happy family and a young Oliver.

"When he died, everything fell apart. Mom completely isolated herself from me. Father's death hit her hard but, it was still wrong of her to do that. Her usual bubbly self was gone. She was gone. She involved herself in work too much and forgot about me." He said and his voice broke at the end of the sentence and I felt my heart break when I saw tears filling his eyes. He was controlling them hard to not let them down. "She was not there when I won the cup for the basketball team. She was not there when I made my graduation speech. She was not there on my birthdays. She was not ever ther—"

"Oliver." My heart clenched tightly when a tear rolled down his left cheek. A small one which he quickly wiped away furiously. I circled my hand around his neck and pulled him towards me, hugging him. He rested his nose against my neck, breathing in my scent, trying hard to control his emotions. My hands stroked his hair comfortingly. It broke my world to see him this weak.

"A few months later..." He started again and lifted his head off my shoulders. He looked down at me. "She started realizing her mistake and started talking to me again. This time, I didn't care." His eyes turned dark and cold. His jaw went rigid. He looked like how he was in the hospital. I immediately tensed, not liking the change in the atmosphere.

"Oliver," I called and he looked down at me. His expression calmed down immediately. "What's her job?" I asked, trying to divert the topic and he pursed his lips. I remembered how there were so many guards in the hospital.

"She runs a modelling company. She is a designer, manufacturer and marketer of women's clothes." Oliver said and my eyes widened in shock when I heard that. "It is running down lately. Remember I disappeared that night? At the hospital?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I learned that she had a heart attack when she heard about the company being closed down. It is her life's work. I went to check out more about it. I tried talking to the staff about the problems. I tried negotiating with the other company to stop ruining our company but they were just too rude. I didn't know what to do. I did postpone the date. It was the only thing I could do." He said and I breathed out a sigh. He still cares about his mother even if she abandoned him when he needed her the most. That's Oliver, the most loyal person I have ever met. I remembered what he said when I tried to remove his shirt during his drunken state and felt myself blushing all over again.

"Is that why you have woman's clothes lying around in your house?" I asked and he smiled, a sad one before shaking his head 'no'.

"Those are my sister's clothes."

"Where is she?" I asked in amazement. Does Oliver have a sister?

"Somewhere." He said. "After father's death, she just... disappeared."

"I'm sorry this had to happen to you," I said and rested my forehead against his, breathing in his scent as he held me closer and we stayed in that position for a very long time, just appreciating each other's presence.