•••

Oliver placed his right hand on the desk.

"What were you thinking, Angelina?"

Cramps. When he called me Angelina I knew things were serious, and I had no way out except listening to what was going to come.

"Irresponsibility. Immaturity. Foolishness! Do you think my office is a place to have picnic at?"

I shook my head no.

"Do you think it is a place to hide chocolate eggs?"

I shook my head no.

"And to let a dog sneak in with little dirty paws, mess up with my stuff, and deliberately hear a confidential conversation?"

"No..."

"So why did you?"

"I am so sorry..."

"I don't want to hear you are sorry. Sorry is just a word. God, Angelina, I don't even know what we are doing right now. How old are you? Don't even answer." He said closing a fist on the table.

Everything he did, everything he expressed, was slowly driving me into a hole. There I felt the coldness of being irresponsible, immature and foolish. He was being polite by choosing those words, though- he could have called me an idiot, brainless bitch, and I would have accepted.

Breath.

After Lady's scream the president collapsed, his flaccid cheek hitting on the frozen sheets that was Oliver's office floor. I crawled out from the place we were hiding; Lady was barking barking barking at the president's baldness, Oliver shouted at me; and soon there were knocks on the door, announcing the arrival of Aleksei and a bunch of men with electric guns. There was more shouting and barking, and I saw myself in the middle of what would be the biggest shit of my life.

President Gene was taken to the sick bay, where the nurses woke him up again, I think, as I am not allowed to go downstairs, and even if I was, following that man was last thing I would do at that moment. All my heartbeats were turned to Oliver and the black unhappy eyes that were staring at me when the tornado finally calmed down.

"Leave, Angelina, and go talk to that dog's owner, before I kick him out myself. Ah, and what is the thing Alexander the Great used to say about education?"

"... I am indebted to my father for living, but to my teacher to living well." - I quoted, without excitation. With silence being his response I knew the answer was accepted. I took another shaky breath before opening the door. Everything I wanted was to be alone in my bed, listening to nothing besides the big heater that provided warm water to downstairs (which wasn't located near my bedroom but at difficult times the noise would come). I opened the doorknob, it made a low nhéc, and as soon I was leaving with my head down Oliver's arms suddenly came from behind, tightly gripping me by the waist as he turned me around back into the room, shutting the door behind us as his mouth attacked mine. I gasped; stumbled; fell - but his arms were all around me, and my eyes shut. He got my face between his hands kissing me desperately, and by doing so, smashing the previous harsh words alongside with my own doubts and wishes of being alone.

I kissed Oliver back holding his waist closer to mine; his hands moved to inside my blouse as our bodies molded against each other. I shivered a little because they were cold. His lips on the contrary were warm like a blanket, and his abdomen in contact with mine held a tightness so hot I was willing to touch, and smell, and lick. Lick each one of his abs with my tongue the same way he drained my brain with his lips; the same way he pushed us further into the room and kept our bodies steady with the weight of his boots.

We kissed, and we kissed hard, and we wouldn't stop even if the building was falling apart. The kisses went deeper as we walked, he sucked like a vacuum; I didn't know where that was coming from and since when he was so desperate to kiss, but I knew he was mine and only mine at that moment.

"Angel", he breathed, "you are everything I can't control."

I couldn't think of other thing besides moaning against his mouth, and raising my hands up his neck into his dark locks, chaining my fingers and giving his hair a light tug which earned me a loud groan. He pulled the place where the two seams of my bra met, still inside my blouse, then ran down through my waist so his fingers could play with the seam of my jeans, slightly pulling it too; and when he gave another break to breath I saw we were in the black sofas adorning his office.

I was going to say something, that he was beautiful, for example, but Oliver didn't give me a chance to collect thoughts; his lips were soon running to the crook of my neck where he started kissing passionately.

"I can't be mad at you"- he said, and took both of my hands to intertwine our fingers - "I want your flaws, your mistakes, your regrets. I just want you, and I am sorry."

"Sorry is just a word." I mumbled, stuck by how his eyes were shinning although there could be no light entering in them now, because his pupils were enormous.

"Oliver... we need to talk about something..."

"Later." He kissed my lower lip, and bit the flesh.

"But it's important..."

"Later." He whispered, and bit me again, now with his hands in my hair, putting them aside to kiss my earlobe.

Damn it..! I hugged him closer with my legs and closed my eyes to the sound of our kisses. Because if mom was right and my belly started growing, that would be the last time I would hug my shield so tight, and so close to my heart.