Oliver Loves Carson | ✔️

chapter fifteen

Oliver was rarely embarrassed.

What did he have to be embarrassed about? Sure, he wasn't the handsomest looking guy and he wasn't the best guitar player in the world, but that had never bothered him enough to turn into embarrassment. He couldn't swim, as his whole high school probably knew by now, but before that one fateful day, he hadn't put much thought to that matter. In his opinion, there was no reason to be ashamed of his personality, either. It was brutally him, in the way that Oliver often was, and if people didn't like it, then he would gladly tell them to fuck off. Nothing to sweat, no rhyme or reason.

That being said, Oliver had discovered that the only thing--or person--that had ever caused him any sort of panic or embarrassment was Carson. Which seemed extremely fitting, due to the nature of the situation.

Carson's eyes darted around the room. "I-uh, I can leave..." he trailed off.

Through the phone, Celia yelled, "No!"

Oliver immediately hung up. Running a sweaty hand through his hair, he pressed his lips into a fine line. "Uh," he said dumbfoundedly.

Carson still wasn't looking at him.

What was he doing? He was fucking up. Again. What a fucking surprise.

He couldn't do this again. He couldn't keep running around in circles, skirting around the truth. He wasn't ever the type of person that would shy away from reality, so why had he been doing it for weeks on end? What was wrong with him? One guy--one lovely, perfect, amazing guy--and Oliver had turned into an idiot. Well, even more of an idiot. This wasn't him--not in the slightest.

Maybe it would be better if Carson left. He could leave and take all of Oliver's problems with him. He could drag Oliver's feelings right out of him and make them disappear. That wasn't a thing, but Oliver desperately wished it was.

"Uh.. yeah okay," Oliver whispered.

Carson took a step out of the doorway, then froze. He swiveled back around, a stubborn expression crossing his face. His nose was scrunched up adorably, like a child. "No," he stated.

"No?"

"No," he repeated.

"You're the one that asked me if you should leave, and when I said yes, you say no?" Oliver said in disbelief.

Losing a bit of confidence, Carson hesitated for a second. "Yes?" he asked unsurely.

"Then... then what do you want?" Oliver questioned tentatively.

Carson sighed, eyes never landing on one spot. He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "I don't know."

Oliver opened his mouth, then shut it. "I-I'm sorry, I'm confused?"

Carson let himself lean against the frame of the door. "Me too."

Silence enveloped the room for a bit. Not the ordinary kind that usually ensued when you had nothing to say, but the kind where there was everything to say, and one didn't know where to start. It was desperate, searching.

Carson spoke up. "I don't know what's been going on with me lately," he confessed. "I don't know how to feel, and I need you to be okay with that."

Oliver's gaze softened. "Of course."

Carson blew out a breath of relief. "Good. Okay, good. Progress," he murmured.

The silence continued, softer this time. Calmer.

"I like you," Oliver blurted out, and for the first time, didn't regret it.

Carson blinked in shock. His mouth hung open a bit, like he didn't expect it. Oliver wasn't sure how he didn't expect it, because it was so fucking obvious. At this point, he was the last one to find out.