Chapter 4 - L

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~3rd Person POV~

"Len, I—"

Len shook his head rapidly. "Please, don't say anything if it's not hateful! I can't take it!" He frantically stood up, running out of the closet, leaving Oliver alone.

At this point, Oliver didn't really understand anything that was going on. Fukase, threatening someone with a knife? Confusing, yet still scary. Len confessing while begging Oliver to hate him? Undeniably strange. However, the one thing bugging Oliver the most was....

"Pirate accent...?" Oliver couldn't seem to grasp why Len had—knowingly—gone along with that stupid game of Fukase's anyway. Maybe he was just a numbskull.

The blond boy huffed in confusion and stood up, deciding to go after Len since he had no idea what else to do at this point. Since a few teachers were still around, it was a bit awkward for him to show up in the hallway and explain why he was in the janitor's closet the entire time.

The door knob turning broke Oliver from his thoughts, and he started to panic. Who was it? The janitor? Someone else? A teacher? A student? No...there's no way it would be a student. Right?

"H-huh...?!" Nope. Janitor...! "What are you doing in here?!" The man asked, anger obvious in his tone.

"I-I'm very sorry!" Oliver stuttered out, quickly running past the janitor before he could catch him. Luckily, he managed to get past without any problems.

Since he didn't know where Len had gone, and he had left a while before Oliver had, the blond boy decided to go ask a teacher. Yes, he knew it wasn't the best decision since no students should really be left on school grounds, but...he couldn't help it. It was really the only choice he had.

"Um...excuse me...?" Oliver poked his head into an unknown classroom, looking for the teacher. A woman at her desk looked up at him.

"A student...? May I...help you?" She asked, looking confused as to why a student stayed this late after school.

"Have you seen another blond boy anywhere in the halls? He's a bit taller than me, and keeps his hair in a ponytail." Oliver reached his hand up a bit above his head to show how tall Len was, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

The woman looked away, thinking for a moment. "I...." She started, Oliver's eye lighting up slightly. "No, I'm sorry...." She shook her head, making the light in Oliver's eye go out.

"I-it's okay," Oliver said, waving a hand at the teacher. "Thank you." He bowed slightly before leaving.

After a few more minutes of running from classroom to classroom, a teacher had finally said that he had seen Len a while before, running off to what he—the teacher—assumed would be the direction of the art room.

Oliver had to take a moment to wonder why Len would head to the art room of all places, but he shrugged it off and quickly made his way up to the third floor, where the room was located.

"Len...?" The younger boy opened the door slightly and looked in. Len was sitting in a desk at the far end of the room, near the front of the classroom. He seemed to be gazing at something on the desk.

Oliver slowly walked in, quietly making his way towards Len. He had to take swift steps, making sure he wasn't heard each time. Once he was standing right behind—well, technically next to—Len, his eye widened slightly in shock.

There, on the desk, was one of Oliver's very own artworks. It wasn't anything special; a scene of a painted sunset in a park, the shadows of two individuals sitting on a bench together. Nothing special at all. Yet, Len gazed at it with a burning envy in his eyes.

"Um...Len...?"

Len flinched violently once Oliver's voice reached his ears, and he almost fell out of his seat. "W-w-w-what are you doing here...?!" He shouted, surprised.

"I-I went after you...because I was worried...." Oliver poked his fingers together. "U-um.... M-may I ask why you were looking at my art...?"

Len flinched once again, blushing harshly. "U-uh, that's...." He trailed off, scratching at the back of his neck as he looked away.

"Y-yes...?" The younger titled his head slightly as he became even more confused by Len's answer. This...didn't have anything to do with what happened in the janitor's closet, right?

The older blond kept his gaze away from Oliver's. "Um, well.... I-I kinda...admired your skill of art.... I-it made me really jealous that you had something that you were so good at. People praised you for it all the time, and I guess...I wanted something like that too...."

Oliver flinched. "Len...." Something about the way Len looked right then made Oliver's heart flutter. His face flushed slightly, but he didn't understand why. The older boy's bright blue eyes intrigued Oliver, even while he was being bullied. However, even though he had loathed Len so much, he just couldn't bring himself to hate the blond. In fact, he felt sorry for the boy.

"Len, I'm...really sorry," was all Oliver could get out at the moment. He had the sudden urge to comfort the other boy, so he reached his hand out and grabbed Len's intertwining their fingers together. "I...can teach you, if you want...." He offered, not exactly sure of where else to go from there.

Len blushed harshly. "W-would you...?" He asked, looking down at their hands. "U-um...."

The younger boy followed Len's gaze and flinched slightly. "I-I'm sorry, is it too weird...?" He asked, starting to pull his hand away. What was this feeling in his chest...?

Len squeezed Oliver's hand hesitantly. "N-no...! T-that's...not it...." He looked away, reaching his hand down to grab Oliver's other hand as well, intertwining their fingers again. "It's...nice...." He mumbled, biting at his lip.

Oliver blushes harshly, the thought of someone coming in and seeing them there, hands clasped together at their chests like lovers.... Wait, lovers...? Is that what this was...?

"Len, I want to learn...to love you...."

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