No, No, I can't do this!

I can't like him!

Oliver slammed his head onto the desk, earning the attentions of a surprised teacher, and a few other unexpecting students.

"Are... you okay?" The teacher asked. Oliver had never before acted abnormally at school, let alone in class. Everyone knew him to be the smart, social kid of the year group, that one 'perfect' kid with straight A's, a talent in sports, and somehow, a lot of dates.

Oliver looked back up and nodded. "Sorry. Won't happen again," he assured with a bright smile.

Hopefully.

I can't stop these annoying feelings.

The teacher simply nodded before returning to her lecture.

After class, a bunch of students, some 'friends', some who he was barely acquainted to, crowded him,

"What happened?" One concernedly asked.

"Did the trig finally get to you?" Another joked in an attempt to lighten the situation.

Oliver kept his composure, "I just feel a bit sick is all," he answered before walking past the crowd with eyes averted from anyone's curious gaze, desperately searching for solitude—where he could sort this all out. In the end, he settled for the male bathroom. But as soon as he entered, the boy he saw standing before the urinal was none other than that damned crush of his.

What's he doing here?

"O-Oh, hey Oliver!" He called out with that dumb, dorkish smile on his face. Oliver tried to hold back a cringe. That guy's either too self-absorbed, or too ignorant for his own good. And in the awkward moment, he debated on whether to flee for his life, or punch that idiot on his face where he deserved it. He went for the former, but only because he didn't want to get detention.

Panting, out of breath, Oliver arrived back at the table. He sat himself on the nearest couch and inhaled deeply. Try to act natural. Try to act natural.

"You've been acting weird." Fukase.

"Really?" Oliver tried to keep up the act. Taking another betraying deep breath in.

He nodded with a smirk, "Don't tell me it's that boy—the new boy."

Oliver's eyes widened, but before Fukase could see, he shook his head convincingly. "N-No! I barely know him," he said, furrowing his brows.

"Really. 'Cuz I've seen him with you. More than a couple times."

Oliver kept still, "That's nothing. You know he's not the only one."

"Well, then I look forward to his turn." He sneered. Oliver froze. This time his eyes sharpened, fear engulfed. The image he had banished from his mind popped back: of him feeding on Len—under his brother's orders. Len's feeble, fear filled face. his neck and deep bite wound, dripping with the remnants of his fresh-red blood. His lifeless body, consumed by darkness, half-leaning on the wall, his shrivelled limbs splayed on the floor.

I can't let that happen.

The red-haired joker chuckled menacingly. "Don't worry, I won't tell him," He put up a smile, but to Oliver, it looked more like a sneer, "when it's still so fun to watch."

That last sentence sent a shiver down his spine. It just meant that Fukase would tell him, anytime he sees fit. But anytime is not never. And Oliver can never let that happen.

So he narrowed his eyes, then fought to argue, "Make that you won't tell him ever."

"Giving me orders now huh?" he scoffed, "I'm afraid you're a few years too early, Ollie."

"Besides," he continued in his excessively smoothened voice, "I'm already doing you a favour,"

Oliver clicked his tongue. Glared at his 'best friend'. Sometimes he wished that Fukase would be more reliable, even in a bad way. At least then he could more easily stay alert and avoid him and not feel bad.

You know what, I shouldn't feel bad anyway.

It's a bit too late now though, don't you think?

Oliver closed his eyes. Took another deep breath. He knew that Silence was the best answer.