And Roses Wither [Oliver Sykes fanfiction]

Chapter Five

      "Oliver, we should probably talk about this. I mean, really." His hazel green eyes flick over to mine and he sighs dramatically, tired of the tedious work of our actions. He got up from the stage, offering me a hand. Rolling my eyes, I ignored it and got up myself. Oliver did that hand surender thing that he does when he's being sarcastic. "What's there to talk about? I mean, really." He mocked my words as we walked up the isle. His eyes weren't on mine anymore, they're on the ground watching spiders crawl across my vans and I ignore it like I have been almost everything else. "I kissed you," He looks up at me now, "And you kissed me back." Shaking my head, I want to scream in aggravation. "No! Olive Jesus fucking christ it isn't that simple!" I cross my arms as we exit the ticket booth. "Nevermind, fuck. Let's just drop it." 

        "Like it never happened?" 

I nod curtly, and make way for my car. Oliver and I exchange goodbyes, and I start to wonder if I said goodbye to my happiness instead- as cliche as it sounds. I take a slow trip down memory lane, bonking my head on the bookshelf Oliver's dad made for me. I continue falling ever so long, continue dying slowly. I shake my head, and start the car. The engine roars and hums to life, smoke fumes exiting the exhaust pipe. A loud bang ricochets my car, evoking me to start panicing. I calm myself down, counting to three. I'm no good with cars- I'll need to get Jasper to fix it. Yeah, Jasper. He used to be a mechanic. He can do it, right? Jasper should be at his girlfriend's right now, according to my phone. I'll talk to him in the morning.

        Jumping out of my car, I walk briskly to the apartment. 

        Homeless humans bang their cups and tug shirt sleeves for money, having children or dogs hold signs for them, having them do the dirty work. But the ones with homes are also homeless humans; I am one too, in fact. Working and working and working, hours on end and never getting enough pay to satisfy your desires and hopes and dreams. Going home to a careless family and then sleeping the whole time; waking up in the wee hours where sunlight crumbs its way through the ragged blinds and repeating the system. Homeless little games, in our hearts and souls.

Ignoring them, and everything else around me, I jiggle the lock and slam into my entryway, almost hitting the couch in the process. I walk to the counter to get some coffee, opening the fridge slowly to explore the forgotten contents. Empty. I jam my thumb into the coffee maker, and groggily walk upstairs to my bedroom. It's a small apartment, really. It's just the bathroom and bedroom is upstairs, and my neighbor on the third floor's bathroom is right above my bed.

I hear a light patter, and I think with a start, 'It's the tub upstairs again' and  begin to walk back outside and up the rusting latter to my neighbor's window and tell him to fix the damned appliance, but before I do, I hear a shouting of my name. 

        "Damn it Anna open your window!" 

        I open it on command, trying to figure out who it could be. Probably Jasper, come to think of it. Oliver doesn't know where I live anyway. But why the window?

        I was quickly proven wrong. I could see his silhouette, his tattoos from two stories above. 

        "What do you want, Oliver!?" 

        "Come down here!"

        "No! Just- just come in okay?!"

        I walk down my stairs and back into the kitchen, making more coffee. Oliver walks in like he owns the place, and accidentally moves my couch over three inches. I groan, because that couch is extremely fucking heavy. 

        "Don't tell me you pulled a fucking Romeo, Romeo." 

        Oliver looks down, and I smile a little bit. "Coffee?"

        "So why're you here again?" 

        "Because I'd like to ask a favor of you."

        "Sure." I continue sipping my beverage, the hotness on my tongue burning like a thousand suns. The the taste is tantalizing, and I can't get enough.

        "Marry me." 

        I choke, and I stop breathing. I can't hear anything besides the blood in my veins, the smell of burning flesh, and I run. I run out of the apartment and into the street, forgetting everything and anything because that's how I am going to escape. I'm coughing and I still am not breathing and Oliver is chasing me and I can't do anything because I am choking on this piece of meat that I hate because I am a vegetarian. 

        "Anna?" He catches up to me out of breath and his voice is cold and frigid as if it's about to break. He's wheezing and I'm scared. "The fuck was that for?" He laughs, his whole body into it.

        I want to run again, run faster and harder and away. "Anna, you're my rose. In a titanic sense and a flower sense. Now, would you answer me, or was that jump run it?" He mutters the last of it, and looks me in the eyes, and I can see the past swimming in his pupils and I miss it. 

        "And roses wither, Oliver." My voice cracks, and I look up to him and he's frowning. 

        "You're plastic." He grabs me by the chin and pulls me towards him and heat is radiating off his body, and his lips are so pure and full of something called love and I can't help but kiss him back because I really do love him as much as I enjoy my melancholy and the dim ally-way we're in doesn't seem so dim anymore.