Psychopath. (bwwm) ✓

10. abandoned parks and broken brothers

(Cute pics of Oliver because why not?)

|10. | abandoned parks and broken brothers

Once upon at time, I thought of the park as a place where you go because you're bored and your parents won't buy you toys. But as Oliver and I sat here talking and socializing, I'd realized that the park near our homes was more like a wasteland, "Why'd you bring me to the park?" I asked, the wind chilling my bones even more than before.

I was holding my own arms, rubbing up and down to persevere body heat when he rolled his lip into his mouth, pulling the flannel he was wearing off of his body and holding it out to me.

Oliver's shoulders went up in a shrug as he looked over at me. The faint nick under his eye was noticeable for the first time and I'd wondered when he'd gotten it. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he tried to answer my question, "People won't judge here."

My hand reached and grabbed it, offering him a silent thank you as I shrugged it over my shoulders and my arms through the sleeves. It was soft like and it just felt like Oliver. Rolling my eyes, I smiled, "Oliver, no one was judging you-"

"Everyone was judging."

I'd noticed that we'd switched roles in caring, normally Oliver didn't mind people staring at him but he seemed a little jittery. Maybe I hadn't noticed anyone judging because of the fact that I felt like I was suffering from hypothermia. Or maybe it was just because Oliver was so captivating.

Oliver was on the swing, three less of a six-pack of Coke sitting on the ground by his feet as his converse skidded slowly on the wood-chips underneath him. He was staring towards the sky, his hands curled around the chained sides in the darkness, his pale face barely visible.

I rolled my eyes as I looked at him, my eyes adjusted to the darkness of our surroundings and barely able to make out his features. My eyes honed in on the flask that appeared from his pocket as he poured some into his soda that he was taking a swig from. He smiled, "Why are we here?"

He shrugged, "It was either this or skinny dipping." Yet again, he rolled his eyes when mine widened. He gave me a flat face as I looked at him horrified, I wasn't quite used to his joking, "kidding, kidding."

I amusedly lifted a questioning eyebrow, "I'm starting to think that you're fantasizing about me. I mean first you want to make out with me, Oliver I'm feeling quite violated-"

He chuckled slightly as he had done the day before in the cafeteria. His smile was about as intoxicating as the alcohol hanging from his left hand as he bit the side of his bottom lip, stuffing the flask in his pocket as if it'd hadn't been used in the first place. The soft stubble growing on his face looked rugged in the moonlight, Oliver Remmer was truly beautiful.

Don't stare, it's fucking weird.

But why did i care if he saw me staring? He'd already had this preconceived idea that I liked him.

I looked at the way he shifted the drink around, it almost sloshing out of the can as his hand remained curled around it, "Are you left handed?" I asked, my eyes lingering loosely on the tattoo that was visible from the time he'd pushed his sleeves up.

I saw him nod from my peripheral as he brought that cool aluminum towards his full lips again, the metal lip ring shifting to make room for it.

I'd never been more invested in learning about Oliver as I was that day and from the way he wasn't frowning and was engaging in conversation, I could tell he was starting to hate me less. I smiled, my hands intertwining in my lap. When he'd seen a car pull up across the street and in front of his house, Oliver stood almost tripping over his coke before righting himself. He saluted without a smile at the car with tinted windows.