Toys are to play

Weakness is human

A//N. I don't like writing author notes in the chapters but I really really really want to thank donovanandrea Avantika_19 Lazy_username  fangirlIam  and dahfne22 for all the love and support... you make me happy happy happy!

⚠️Warning, depending on some readers' age I don't know if this chapter can be considered mature contented or not.

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      "We can hide from everyone. We can hide under sheets..."

Oliver got hold of my arms. He moved them behind my back, and smiled my name in my ear. I trembled and shivered and I don't know what was happening to me; his large shoulders just trapped my vision so all I could see was his chest, and very closely. Smoke, asphalt and earth marked the lines of it, and in some places the skin was pink and annoyed. I turned my face to the other side. He pulled my arms down in a way I had to squat or it would hurt. When we were on the floor he got on top of me, clenching my body with his legs. "I am going to kiss you, Angel..."

I shook my head no, but he didn't see. His tongue slid over my bottom lip and pushed them apart, drawing me into his mouth. All softness of him contrasted with the cold of the ground squeezing my head from under, and the pain only increased as his kisses went more hungry and mad, making my hair scratch on the cement, and my hands couldn't move. His hip was up in the air, so the chain around his neck was right over my belly and it gave slight brushes on each sucking and biting. I wanted to push him, yes I did wanted, I was going to... Suddently the taste of cigarette and alcohol filled my brain with old promises and heaven. It was intoxicating.

"Olllliver..!"

"You like it?" Oliver grinned, moving a finger to one button of my blouse. "There's more..." He ran the tip of his nose all the way down my jawline, breathing my skin, that was full of sweat; but his forehead was also wet, because I felt it as he buried his head into my neck. I was dreaming, I was in the middle of a nightmare, but at the same time I was feeling pain, and people say we don't feel pain in dreams. Those kisses on my neck were so good, they were massaging, with the small hairs of his beard, and maybe that was not real...

  Oliver's grip left my hands, and for a second I felt myself free. I took the opportunity and pushed a lock of his hair with the greatest force as possible, grimacing with the pain that it had caused in me too.

He fell, with a loud groan. Yes, Oliver's monstrous body collapsed against mine, removing all air from inside and making my teeth click.

"No, no, no!" I called his name desperately while pushing his unconscious body to the ground. "I'm sorry, Oliver! I'm sorry I'm sorry..." I got to my knees and took his head, trying to wake him. His forehead was cold. "God... how much did you drug yourself?!"

He didn't respond. I was waiting another groan, a shake of his eyelids, a movement, anything, but it didn't come.

"Arrgh! I hate you I hate you I hate you! Can't you see you destroyed my life? It doesn't matter how many good people I've met, you are the one who changed me and I hate you for that. I hate you, Oliver Snowfields and I will never-"

A tear splashed onto Oliver's cheek. I watched as it made the dirt over there get a shade darker. I cleaned it with my blouse, and then cleaned his whole face. "Oliver... where have you been? Amazon forest or Sahara desert?"

I smiled at the thought of Oliver in a desert. "I think your power would be very useful there, hu? People would love you... Come on, let's go home."

I got up and started dragging his body down the corridor. I would take care of him. I would give him food, water and a bed... yes, as if he was a dog, because he was a dog.

I stopped in midway.

"I hate you."

No answer.

"I don't know why I still care about you. I don't know why I started caring about you, by the way."

I bit my lips. Oliver was so pretty I could just stand there looking at him all night long. Despite of the dirt, drugs, and all he had done. I was seeing Oliver Snowfields as a human. His smell was gone, his ten thousand dollar's clothes too; so did his posture, his superior gaze and all that stuff that made him be some kind of god. A prince, a genius, an angel, who fell from the sky and crashed onto the ground.

Maybe Oliver is just a person. And that's what makes him worth my help.