love came calling, twice // olly murs

30.

"Hey, can I come in?"

Olly's voice was muffled through the closed door of his room and Amelia swung her legs off the side of his bed where she was currently settled, reading a book. "It's your room!" she called out to him. "Of course you can come in!"

The door opened a moment later and she was greeted with a nervous looking Olly, his hair covered by his trilby and dressed in a pair of grey jeans and a blue t-shirt. He smiled bashfully at her as he closed the door behind him. "I just wanted to make sure you were decent, is all."

She nodded, setting her book down beside her. "Thank you for that," she said, "Some men wouldn't even consider it."

"Yeah, well..." Olly trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you busy right now? Oh," he paused, catching sight of her book. "You're reading. You are busy. I'll come back later."

"Olly!" Amelia didn't want him to leave just yet. Why did he seem so nervous? "It's a book, it's not going to change if I abandon it for a while. What is it?"

He swallowed, eyes darting around the room. "Um, I have something to show you."

She raised an eyebrow when he didn't elaborate. "You do?" she asked slowly, making sure she was on the same page as him. He was acting awfully funny.

He nodded quickly. "Yep," he swallowed again. "I do. And if you're not busy, would you perhaps like to come see it?"

Standing up, she walked over to the door and opened it. "Lead the way," she said softly, gesturing for him to step out of the room ahead of her.

"Is it downstairs?" she asked, wondering what he could possibly have to show her that would get him in such a tizzy. She began to walk towards the staircase, but his fingers caught hers and pulled her backwards down the hall.

"No, it's um," he closed his eyes. "I wanted you to see Tom's old room. I've finished renovating it."

She stopped walking, thoroughly confused. "I thought you weren't renovating it," she said skeptically. "You said it was going to be a storage room."

"Yeah, it is," Olly said, walking down the hall, his hand on the doorknob to Tom's room. "But since you helped with the paint job, I just decided I wanted you to see the finished product."

She furrowed her brows. What was he up to? "Okay..." she said, coming to stand beside him. He opened the door and gestured for her to go inside.

"Ladies first."

Stepping into the room, Amelia gasped. He had lied.

The walls were still the pale green she had picked out, but it was certainly no storage room. There was a double bed against one of the walls, the frame a dark wood stained black and the headboard covered in black fabric. A white comforter with black flowers was spread across the bed with several colourful throw pillows sitting on top. A small black nightstand was beside it with a white porcelain lamp sitting on top next to an alarm clock and a vase of lavender roses.

A desk was on the other side of the room, her laptop placed on the top. She wondered briefly why she hadn't noticed it was missing from his room earlier. Over top on the wall were several black and white photographs of flowers; the ones he had taken in the garden that day. Next to the desk was a tall bookshelf, empty aside from one novel.

Trembling slightly, she walked closer into the room and over to the bookshelf, picking the book up. She gasped upon seeing the cover.

The Virgin Suicides.

She turned to him slowly, one hand clutching the book and the other over her mouth. He was standing there, bashfully, his hands in his pockets observing her. Slowly removing her shaking hand, she swallowed harshly and spoke.