This Empty Love

Since returning from the last therapy session, the tension and frustration continued to climb between Oliver and I. Little situation after little situation presented itself to us and it was on the verge of driving me insane. This was either a bad case of karma, or an immense case of fate. Either way, I couldn’t take much more of it.

The first “little situation” occurred in the kitchen. I was busy minding my own business and making dinner - for us both - when Oliver joined into the small space. In-between my attempts of draining noodles by the sink, and Oliver trying to grab a glass from the cupboard above the sink, we bumped awkwardly; Oliver brushing up against me as he reached over my back, and my thighs coming in contact with his.

We pulled apart quickly, as if something hot came between us, and started rambling as we separated. After things calmed down a bit, I glanced in his direction, meeting his eyes accidentally, before blushing and looking back down at the fettuccini I was making.

And that wasn’t even the half of it.

An hour later, after dinner, I was getting out of the shower with a towel loosely wrapped around my body. I walked into my room and opened the top dresser drawer, only to discover I had left my hamper full of clean clothes in the laundry room.

“Damn it.” I mutter absently to myself. I pulled my towel closer to my body and headed for the door, peaking out before I entered the hallway.

As if on cue, while I passed Oliver’s room and also the most cramped part of the hallway, Oli happened to open his door and start to walk out, bumping into my half naked self.

“Shirt, sorry. I was just, and yeh were, and, sorry.” Oliver managed in one breath, nervously swallowing after he trailed off. No matter his nervousness, he still managed to survey my body, watching as a drop of water fell from my hair and down my skin, disappearing somewhere in my towel.

I felt my face heating up and turning red. “It’s fine, I just left my stuff in the laundry room and I figured I needed it and stuff.” I mumbled, just as awkwardly.

We shimmied by each other in the small hall way. Oliver’s eyes flickering between mine and the floor; I hadn’t seen him this nervous around me in a long time. And my eyes looked into his hazel ones for a moment, before trailing over his bare, tattooed chest, and then down the hall. I scurried off quickly, too embarrassed to keep the eye contact going.

“Taylor!” Even locked away in my bedroom, changing, I could still hear Oliver calling my name. I yelled back, asking what he wanted, and finished putting on my shirt. “Can yeh come help me?”

I sighed, knowing it was probably an easy fix that he couldn’t figure out. “What do you need?” I asked loudly, walking towards the direction of his voice.

As I approached the living room, I heard the sound of Oliver hitting something, followed by a slew of cussing. Hesitantly, I peaked into the room. “Don’t kill my VHS player, please.” I told him gently, noticing him hovering over the small box.

“Well ‘ow in the hell do yeh get it to work? It just ate my fuckin’ movie.” Oliver snapped, pushing all the buttons on the machine. I walked over to him and nudged him aside.

"Why would you even try to use this stupid thing?" I demanded as I inspected the ancient VHS player. It sputtered and screeched, and I could tell just by the sounds that the film on the videotape had probably been ripped out., or was in the process of it. I bent over at the waist, and pushed open the flap that concealed the tape inside.

"Wanted to watch a tape," he muttered, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. Which, to be completely honest, it kind of was. But that didn't make him any smarter for doing it.

I stuck a finger into the tape slot and tried jiggling the nearest corners to work it loose, but it wasn't about to budge. "Well, you're probably not going to get to watch it now," I told him matter-of-factly. "Seeing as you've managed to completely fuck the thing up."

Apparently you're good at fucking up a lot of things, my mind seethed, but I kept that thought to myself. I didn't need to pick a fight. Honestly, I was so tired of fighting.

He sighed. "Yeh can't fix it even a little?"

I shrugged, still peering into the slot. "I don't think so. It's pretty stuck. This tape can't mean that much to you, since you always seem to hate my VHS movies anyways. Why don't you just throw it out?"

I stood, turning to face him, stumbling when I realized that he was standing directly behind me, his face probably not even two inches from mine. I took in a sharp breath and tried not to pass out. I hadn't been so close to him in... well, a very long time.

I caught the scent of his soap - regular store brand soap - and a bit of his cologne, my favorite scent. I could see exactly what color his eyes were at the moment - dark brown around the pupil and green around the edge of the iris. I could even feel his body heat, he was so close. I couldn't stand being so near to him, it would drive me crazy.

I blinked out of my trance and tried to step around him, but as chance would have it, he moved the same way I did at the exact same time, so we did that awkward, foot-to-foot dance that people do when they can't get past each other. Again, I gazed up at Oliver, my eyes connected on his and my breathing stopped.

In one quick movement, that still has me stumped on how it all happened, Oliver’s hands quickly moved to cup both sides of my face before he leaned down and pressed his lips hard against mine. I gasped, shocked at the sudden contact, before kissing back with lust and greed. We needed this, I needed this.

The sudden kiss was fiery and sloppy, with our tongues clashing almost painfully and out teeth clanking once or twice. I could feel my lips reddening and swelling as we grabbed at each other.

I stepped back, as Oliver pushed tighter to me, but my elbow caught the VHS player, and it tumbled from the top of the TV onto the hardwood floor. I harshly pulled my lips from Oliver’s and stared down at the floor, wide-eyed, as my VHS player sputtered for a moment. Then, without warning, it released the video tape, the black film from inside of it tangled back behind the flap like entrails.

I was out of breath and my voice was shaky as I spoke. “You- you were going to watch that?” I asked, not bothering to look up.

Oliver’s rough breathing was all I heard for a moment, as he tried to catch his breath and his composure. I wasn’t sure he was going to respond, so I lifted my head and turned towards him.

His eyes were glossed over in a way I hadn’t seen before. It was a swirl of too many emotions to read, and I was worried that he’d lost it. First attempting to watch a video of some of our old memories and then kissing me, he was definitely ready to fly over the coo-coos nest.

Oli’s eyes flickered from my face to floor and back up again. “What, am I not aloud to watch it or somethin’?” He asked, his voice sounding almost angry.

“Yes, I mean no, you are aloud to, I just don’t see what made you suddenly want to watch it.” I rambled and bent down to scoop up the seemingly ruined tape.

“I mean,” I started to say, not looking up from the destruction in my hands. “Why bring this out? Its from, at least, four years ago. Isn’t this the stupid travel video we made when I first came to live with you?” My fingers trailed over the black spirals of film, as if it took me back to another time.

“It’s not fuckin’ stupid Taylor.” Oliver snapped, snatching the video away from me. He held it tenderly and cradled it, trying to wind the pieces back up. “I love this film, whether you agree or not. Yeh don’t, even a bit, like lookin’ back at where we came from? At how much we’ve changed?”

I began to open my mouth, ready to respond, but Oliver shook his head and held a free hand up. “I don’t care right now. I’m off to bed, ‘kay? See yeh in the morning, I suppose.”

Still holding the tape, Oliver began to walk past me, pausing for a moment on the right side of me so he could lean over and place a small, yet hard, kiss on my cheek before he continued walking to his room.

I don’t know how we went from kissing to bickering again, but it happened and it left me feeling pathetic. I needed his touch more than anything right now, but he was off in his room, probably trying to fix the tape he thought I hated. Truthfully, I love that tape almost more than our wedding one.

Part of me desperately wanted Oliver to stop walking down the hall and turn around and run back to me so he could kiss me hard and sweep me off my feet. Unfortunately, the last I heard was the door slamming and light music playing.