March 2017

As our last class of the term wrapped up, Olivia and I got ready to head back to mine. She had been staying with me for a few weeks now, and neither of us ever approached the topic of her going home... because I don't believe either of us wanted that anymore. We didn't act on our bond in any romantic way. We were mostly just really close friends—who shared a bed together and held hands at night, but I digress. Having her living with me felt right though. Falling asleep next to her and waking up to her evergreen eyes every day made my life feel complete.

The day after the movies, we had headed to her apartment so that she could pack the remainder of her things. When we returned, I cleared out half of my cupboard for her, and, without any discussion on it, she basically moved in with me—while still paying rent at her old place.

And as we made the bed in the evenings, we put one less pillow in the fort between us each night.

While, for the most part, we remained as close friends, neither of us could deny the longing that swirled in our gazes as we fell asleep looking at each other. It was hard keeping her at a distance like this. I so desperately wanted to pull her into my arms every waking moment, to trail my lips down her neck, to feel what it was like to have my tongue in her mouth... to call her mine.

But unlike with Erica where we had the freedom to have a relationship without that bond commitment, Olivia and I were not afforded such a luxury. I knew if I told her my feelings, the very next thing she'd want is to kiss... but how could I possibly tell her that we couldn't do that? That it was too dangerous? That I'd probably push her away if she ever tried to cement our bond...

As we shoved our notebooks and pencil cases into our bags after our last class of the term, eager for the holidays with unlimited time to spend together, a figure approached us.

"Hi Lukas," the girl said softly, shyly meeting my eyes. Dark hair, tanned skin, and long lashes, she was fakely pretty for a human. But she didn't pique my interests, as much as she tried batting her fake lashes at me.

How did she know my name? I then wondered.

"I really liked the presentation you guys did last week," she started, glancing Olivia's way, answering my previous thought. But then she turned her stare to my chest, unable to meet my gaze. "And, Lukas, I was wondering... some of us are having a party tonight to celebrate the end of term. Would you like to come?" Her eyes finally flickered up to mine, expecting, hopeful, entranced.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to. But before I'd even consider it, I had one key question. "Can I bring Olivia?" I asked, waving my hand over to her.

The girl—whose name I couldn't remember for the life of me—looked at Olivia with venom in her stare, causing me to roll my eyes. I mean, c'mon. She knew nothing about me and was sad that I wanted to bring my friend? "I suppose," she finally said, turning back to me. "Can I get your number to text you the details?"

But instead, I pulled my notebook back out. "Just write the address and time on here."

"It would be best if I have your number. That way if something changes—"

"I don't have a phone number," I lied, waving the book and pen in the air, emphasising she should take it. Begrudgingly, she took it and noted down as I asked. But once she handed it to me and my eyes skimmed my page, I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes in front of her again. She had written her phone number at the bottom of the page. "See you tonight."

"Maybe. We still have to talk about it," I replied before she turned away and left us alone.

Putting my book and pen back in my bag, I then turned to Olivia whose face had fallen and eyes were avoiding me. "So... do you want to go to a party?" I asked.

She pressed her lips together, playing with her bag straps as she waited for me to move out of her way. "You can go if you want."

"You and I are a package deal. If I go, you go. If you go, I go."

"Why?" she whispered, unable to look up at me for some reason.

"Because you need me at night time," I said.

But then her face fell further. I wanted to press her on it, but at the same time, approaching such a topic seemed dangerous.

So instead, I said, "What do you think?"

"We can... try. I suppose it could be good to socialise."

"Exactly. We need to get out more." But I also wanted her to open up to people more. To make more friends so that she didn't need to rely on me. As much as I selfishly wanted to keep Olivia to myself, hauled up in my apartment with me and never interacting with others, she needed more human connection. She needed a support network. She needed to understand that it wasn't just me who could like her—that anyone who grew to know her would see her beauty.

She gave me a small smile and nodded, but there were still notes of sadness clouding her gaze as we walked out of the classroom and off campus.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

I was hovering really close to Olivia ever since we left the apartment. Wearing a denim dress and boots, hair curled to perfection, and makeup on the little thicker side, she was dangerously gorgeous tonight. The moment she walked out of the bathroom an hour ago, dressed and ready, I felt my face flush immediately as she shyly looked away while I gawked at her. And the idea of anyone else ogling her made my skin crawl.

Because she's mine, I thought.

Whoa, whoa. She's not ours at all.

She lives with me.

Temporarily. And that doesn't mean she's ours. She belongs to herself.

But the bond invitation—

Stop it you, I threatened.

Then Olivia shimmied even closer to me as we walked through the masses of people, wary of their bodies bumping against her. "Do you want a drink?" I asked her, wondering if this was a stupid idea and we should just head home. There were too many people... too much alcohol. Maybe this would remind her of those disgusting men...

But then she turned up to look at me, nodding vigorously.

The normal thing to do in this situation would be to unweave my arm from her grip and leave her to mingle while I fetched us drinks. But I didn't feel safe leaving her alone; and based on Olivia's posture, she felt the same.

I still pulled my arm from her hold, but this time I wrapped it around her shoulder, dragging her close to me as we worked our way through the crowd. I would have liked to place my arm around her waist, but we weren't there yet.

Ever, my conscience warned. We won't go there, ever.

We reached the kitchen and perused our drink options. I took a beer then turned to Olivia. "What's your poison?"

"Any rum?"

"Rum?" I exclaimed.

"Or gin?"

"Gosh, Olivia... hold back a bit. Let me look." And because she was only a few steps from me, this time I let her go while I looked through the options they had. A bar or a club would have had more variety, but who was I to complain about free alcohol. I managed to find some Malibu and returned with a cup. "What do you like with it?"

"Whatever, really."

And so I mixed her a drink, uncapped mine, and we tapped my bottle to her cup before skulling.

I felt no effects from one drink, but I could already see Olivia's eyes begin to cloud, and her shoulders relax. She didn't want to be on edge, I thought. She wanted to have fun, but after that night... At once, I felt guilty bringing her here. It must have been resurfacing bad memories.

If we were bonded to her, my heart whispered, we would know how she feels all the time.

Shut up!

"Lukas?" she said softly, stepping in front of me. "Where did you go?" Her eyes swirled with concern while she blinked a little slowly from the tipsiness.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

She grinned at me, because, at this point, she was more than used to me apologising with no explanation. "It's okay," she whispered. "Will you dance with me?"

Unable to stop myself, I nodded. Then I took her hand in mine and we joined the people in the living room, swaying, twisting, twirling. And even though we went out tonight so that we would both try to meet new people, to make more friends, we were still trapped in our own bubble, staring at each other, holding each other.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

"I think I'm going to be sick," Olivia said when we entered my apartment. And then, at once, she ran for the bathroom. In the distance, I heard her make it just in time to heave the contents of her stomach into the bowl.

"I think you drank too much," I called out after her.

"I won't have you tell me my limits, Lukas," she mumbled back into the bowl, thinking I couldn't hear. But to prove my point, she then vomited again.

In the meantime, I went to the kitchen, grabbed her some water, and then joined her on the bathroom floor.

"I didn't like that girl who invited you," she said, head resting on the bowl, a vacancy to her stare.

"No?" I asked, grabbing one of her hair ties from the bathroom drawer before tying her locks together for her. The girl in question tried several times to approach us, but Olivia shuffled closer to me every time she came near. And the feeling of Olivia's body pressing against mine meant I barely listened to a word the girl was saying. After repeating herself too many times, she eventually gave up.

"I mean... I'm sure she's lovely. But I don't want you dating her," she pouted, avoiding eye contact now.

"I'm not going to date her, Olivia." I studied her, wondering what she was alluding to with her statement.

"I wish you'd call me Ollie."

"Ollie?"

"My mum always calls me that."

"Does she?"

"Only my closest friends are allowed to call me that, though. I don't tell people about the nickname because it's a little embarrassing."

"Why's that?" I asked, smirk slipping onto my face as she prattled her drunken nonsense.

"Because it's one of those stupid nicknames when you're a kid and can't say your own name."

"Ahh, I see. So, are you saying, if I called you Ollie, it would be a good way of getting back at you for the 'Rich Bitch' name you call me?"

"Don't you dare," she gasped, eyes flying open as she looked at me. But then she shuffled across the floor, coming closer. "Have I ever told you that you have really pretty eyes?" She moved right in, head hovering only a few centimetres from mine.

"Um... no," I mumbled, looking down as I felt my heartbeat start to pick up, overwhelmed by her scent of watermelon, hibiscus, and rum wafting my way. Yet she was unphased by our proximity thanks to the alcohol that has taken control of her senses... and logic.

"Everything about you is so pretty," she whispered.

"Is that so?" I responded, biting my lip as I flickered my gaze up to her, finding myself falling deep into her forestry green eyes that pierced my soul. In that moment, as she looked at me and I looked at her, I felt the string around my heart begin to glow bright, begging me to lean closer... to cement the bond.

But then she sighed and leaned back, resting against the toilet. "Lukas... I wish I could tell you something but I'm too scared."

"You can tell me anything," I replied, gingerly picking up one of her hands in mine. But I didn't have the heart to meet her gaze, too wary of what I might see swirling there. I traced the length of her fingers with my free hand and she let out a soft giggle.

"That tickles," she said.

This time, I flickered my gaze up. "Want me to stop?"

"Definitely not," she whispered, brows turning down and a tenderness seeping back in. I looked back down before I could read into it further. Before my own gaze softened and we started leaning into each other...

"Lukas... I don't want to lose our friendship."

"You never will," I promised. Because there was no way, now that I knew what it was like to have her in my life, that I was going to let anything jeopardise us.

"But there's been that thing I've wanted to tell you that I can't because you will probably kick me out and never want to speak to me again."

I closed my eyes for a moment I realised that her words were only confirming the sinking feeling I had that she was trying to push our friendship further. My brain was screaming at me to change the topic. But the ferocious bond took the reins of my logic, casting my glance back up to her as I said, "Nothing you say will scare me away. Ever."

"Even if... Even if I told you I like you? As more than a friend? In a romantic way?" she gushed before she let out a little hiccup.

My heart felt like it had stopped, but as I saw her eyelids growing heavy and she began to sway, I said, "Even then... I'm your friend first. But let's talk about it more when you're sober."

"Noooo! We can't talk when I'm sober. Sober Ollie will hate me for telling you."

Laughing, I got to my feet. Then I hooked my hands under her arms and helped her up. "I'll make sure she doesn't."

"How can you know?"

But instead of responding, I held her still with one hand while I grabbed her makeup wipes with the other. Then I dragged one of the wipes over her face, removing any traces of mascara and foundation caked on her skin. I knew she hated sleeping with her makeup on. And of course I could have magicked it away, but I didn't trust that Olivia was drunk enough to overlook that.

Afterwards, I led her to the bedroom and pulled out some of her pyjamas.

"Get changed," I said softly, before closing the door and heading to the bathroom.

One of the fastest showers I ever had later, I returned to the bedroom and Olivia was already face down on the bed, a gentle snore coming from her.

A chuckle escaped my mouth before I levitated her body, pulled back the sheets, then placed her gently back down. Coming over to her side, I picked up the blanket and tucked her in, smoothing her hair down while she snuggled deeper into her pillow.

"Thank you for telling me," I whispered. "And I'm sorry you fell for someone like me."