It's Time To Open Your Eyes

Downstairs…

"Hayleh?" her mum called numerous times. "Hayleh, where are ya?"

"Sweeteh, who are yeh talkin' about? This is her party, ain't it? She's just gotta be 'round here some'ere," Oliver's mum said, patting her shoulder gently.

"I can't find 'er, and we're supposed to cut the cake, right about now!" she exclaimed worriedly.

"Oliver! Olleh! Where a-a-are you?" his mum called.

In the room of the sleeping birthday girl, Oliver's hands were roaming the girl's upper torso, his tongue roaming her mouth, and his blood…roaming a little south of that.

The faint cry of Oliver immediately snapped him out of his faze.

"Aw, fuck," he muttered, tearing away from the girl unwillingly.

"Oh, come on," she whined, still lost in the moment of lust. "A quick one, yeah?"

"No; someone's calling me. They're bound to come up 'ere, anyway," he groaned, running his hand through his hair. He immediately regretted it, and used both hands to fix his fringe, ignoring the girl with the growing need in her pants.

"Come on," she insisted, "We'll just lock the doors. Please?" She stroked the front of his shirt, and needless to say, after her suggestion, Oliver couldn't think of anything else.

He saw a couch not too far away, and led the grinning girl to it.

Clothes fell, moans emitted, and roughly twenty minutes later, they were put back on, sounds replaced by grins.

"That was so good," she said dreamily. Oliver just nodded, tidying up anything they could've knocked over.

"Next week?" she stood directly in front of him, stroking both arms, looking at his tattoo-clad arms admiringly.

"Uh," he got shy all of a sudden, "I-I've got something to do next week. Family's comin' over, friends, practice, a lotta shit. Sorry."

"Aw," she pouted. What sympathy he had for not telling her the truth had faded; he was just plain pissed now.

"I'm sorry," he said, and just to get her off his back, he gave her a deep kiss, and pulled her in by the small of her back.

"It's alright. But you owe me," she smirked, walking out of the dark room.

I don't owe you jack shit, he wanted to call after her.

"What the…" he heard a soft voice.

"Oh! Erm, hello, there," his eyes widened. Just like a deer caught in headlights. Again, he got shy, and his sensitive side showed, for he didn't know where the voice came from.

"What are…What're you doin' in meh room?" Hayley said, sitting up, emitting a loud yawn.

"Oh. Oy, aren't you the birthday girl?" Oliver asked, sitting down on the side of her bed.

Hayley inched away as best as she could without making it obvious, for she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Yeah. What's it to ya?" she asked as politely as she could.

Oliver held up his hands innocently; he didn't mean any harm.

"Just wonderin', mate. No need to get hostile, yeah?"

He just sat there.

Hayley examined him intently, working from the complicated designs on his arms up to his inked neck. She continued to look at the design on his shirt; it read something Fresh. Fresh what? Fresh meat?

She looked up to his snakebites, and noticed that they were perfectly placed on either side. Looking up into his (what seemed like) warm eyes, she realized that the whole time she had been…examining him, he was watching her as well.

Immediately, Hayley blushed, and darted her eyes elsewhere, emitting a low, almost inaudible chuckle from Oliver.

She's cute, he smiled, looking at her reactions.

He then wondered to himself, What happened to not trying to get her, mate?

Shrugging slightly, he thought, Fuck that. I'll feel however I want about Hayleh.

"Are…you okay?" Hayley asked slowly, noticing him practically talk to himself, not to mention shrug to no one.

"Oy? Oh, yeah. I'm fine, sorreh."

"S'alright," she said warily.

"Y'know, I bet they're gonna cut your cake soon, mate," Oliver said awkwardly. He wasn't used to this.

Girls would either ignore him, hoping he would notice their lack of affection, or it'd be the total opposite; girls throwing themselves at him; or girls trying to pull the "nice" act.

But this girl…she was so different. It irked him to no end; he wanted to punch a wall. Maybe at home he would.

"I don't wanna go down there," Hayley groaned, flopping back down into bed.

"Why not, eh?" Oliver sat properly onto her bed, sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce (after kicking off his shoes, o'course).

"I d'no," she answered truthfully. "I'm so tired. I never wanted a fuckin' birthday party. All I wanted was a small dinner with my Mum."

"What about a small gathering with your friends?" he inquired, playing with the blanket's edge.

She didn't realize how ridiculous it really was until she said it out loud, "I…don't have any."

"No friends?" he asked, choking slightly so it came out slightly mockingly.

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. Why was he even talking to her?

"Why?"

"I don't want friends."

"Oh." Well, what the bloody hell was 'e s'posed to say now?

"You really should go downstairs, y'know," Oliver continued after a moment's worth of silence.

"Why?" she looked back up at home, annoyed that he brought it up once more.

"I dunno," he mumbled sheepishly, "Jus' seems a bit dodgy that you won't go downstairs for your own cake-cutting, yeah?"

"No, I really do not wanna go, okay? I – "

"Hayleh! There y'are!"

She sat upright immediately upon hearing her name. "Mum? What're you doin' up 'ere?"

"Oh, Oliver, your Mum's lookin' for ya, and c'mon, Hayleh, we're gonna cut your cake!"

"Oh, Ms. Jameson, Hayleh wasn't feelin' so well, so I decided to come up here, and – and talk…to her," Oliver said the last part slowly, making it up as he went. That doesn't make sense, you little shit, he mentally scolded himself.

"Oh, poor baby; is it okay if we cut the cake? I'll save you a piece for later, yeah?"

Hayley just waved her Mum out the door.

"Well," Oliver scoffed, regaining his smug posture, "You're welcome."

Hayley sensed he put up his shield once more, so she narrowed her eyes, "I never said thank you."

It's only fair, she thought, I'm not being bitchy. He was rude; and I was rude back. We're even.

"Well, you shoulda. It's good manners, y'know," he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, you shouldn't shag a girl in a stranger's room. It's bad manners, y'know," she mocked him.

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Touché."