Oliver Sykes

“What do you want, Oliver?”
He cringed. “Yeh cant call meh Olleh?”
“What do you want?”
Oliver sighed, slumping back against the wall near, opposite the seating arrangement that gave the room a little more life. The white walls reflected in his eyes, the blinding colour giving me headaches. Squinting, I glared at Oliver, his bottom lip quivering.
Was he going to cry?
“I need yeh ‘elp, ‘gain.”
I perched one hand on my hip, rocking, switching my weight to the other foot. “You need my help, Oliver Sykes, womanizer of the fucking year wants my help?”
Olive coughed loudly, his voice raised. “Okeh, get over yehself.”
“Excuse me....” calming, I tried again. “What can I help you with?”
Oliver slacked against the wall, rolling his head back, his nest of hair pressed to the white wall, the contrast hurting my eyes. He was glancing down at the ground, the toes of his shoes fiddling with the cracks of the lino, following the paths. With his hands nestled by the crotch of his jeans he paced around the room, still trying to follow the cracks.
“I wanna dump SJ..” he didn't raise his eyes, plastered to the floor, he spoke to me, his voice seeming somewhere in the distance.
Did he just seriously ask me for girl help?
“Then go do it, what do you need my help for.”
Oliver sighed angrily. “If I could, I wouldn't need ta kiss yeh arse fer ‘elp.”
“Well, your not very good as kising arse.”
“Yeh think?”
I rocked back on my heels, catching the seat behind me, lowering myself into the seat, wiggling around a bit. The seat was too hard for my liking, but anything was good as long as I was off my feet. The balls of my feet began to ache, the straining sensation spreading through my foot.
“Look, lets get past the fact that we hate each other...”
“I Don't ‘ate yeh.”
I glared at Oliver expectantly, the lies pouring from his face. “Shut up.”
he nodded, perking straight up in the middle of the room, looking out of place. “...And stop lying to each other.” I paused, waiting for Oliver to nod. “Now, whats the problem?”
Oliver stumbled for a minute, opening and shutting his mouth a few times, resembling a fish. Stuttering out the words, he mumbled to himself, rolling the ideas around in his head. I slanted my smirk downwards, tapping my foot.
“Oliver?”
“ ‘Mandawonttalktameh.” he blurted.
I blinked, once, twice. My mind going to mush inside my skull. I hadn't had the time to register what he had said. He twiddled his thumbs in front of him, watching my changing expression, form shock to confusion.
“I... I missed.... that.”
Oliver nodded, starting again. “I.... well, its... hard to sey.”
“You just said in then?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Okay...” he took a deep breath, propping his chest out. “A-M-A-N-D-A....”
“Oliver, I'm not stupid.”
“ ‘Manda wont talk ta meh....”
I frowned, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth chewing on it lightly. “Can you blame her? Oliver, you Don't treat girls in the best way.”
“This isn't ‘bout yeh and meh...”
I shook my head. “No Oliver, girls in general, look at how you treat SJ.”
“But...” Oliver grinned stupidly. “Yeh agree with meh, she does deserve it sometimes.”
My head drifted to the side, the wicked ideas of pushing SJ off building and into a nail box ticking over in my head, a smile appearing on my lips. Turning serious, I shook the smile away.
Oliver did have a point.
“Regardless, she’s a girl.”
Oliver grinned again. “A stupid one.”
“Oliver!”
“Wha’!? Yeh Don't think she’s stoopid?”
He watched contently as I rocked my head back and forth, trying hard to keep my smile down. “Okay, forget SJ...”
“Well, tha’ only otha’ gal I kno’ is yeh.”
“And look how you treat me.”
Oliver coughed, taking a seat next to me, wiggling around in the seat, as I had done. “Thes’ aren't verreh comfie, ‘re they?”
I shook my head.
“Now, ‘ow ‘re yeh ‘elpin’ meh with ‘Manda?”
I shrugged, tilting my head to the side. “She’s your ex, not mine, you should know what to do, I mean, you are a fucking womanizer.”
Oliver fell silent, slumping in the seat, his infamous pout growing on his face.
“How did you win her over the first time.”
He grinned wickedly. “We feck-”
“Okay!” I flung my hand up, ceasing his voice. “I take back that question, I Don't want to know.” I winced.
“She thought I was pretteh goo-”
“OLIVER!”
“Wha’?” he shrugged, innocently.
“...Just shut up, okay?”
We fell silent, Oliver’s movement ceasing, his heavy breathing the only sign that he was still with me. The silence was suffocating, eating away at the oxygen. I coughed a few times, trying to cease the awkwardness.
No such luck.
Oliver hummed a tune to himself, unsure of what to do, or say.
“Yeh kno’, she was good with ‘er tong’.”
I instantly shot up from my seat, leaving the room as quickly as possible, a smile creeping over my smile. I could hear Oliver cackle behind me, rolling around in his seat. His body slamming against the ground. I sped up, trying to rid myself of the dirty thoughts. Oliver’s booming laugh was heard all through the hospital, nurses actually thought something was wrong with him.
“Rory...” he giggled, lifting himself back into his seat. “...Come back... I couldn’ ‘elp mehself...” he laughed again, rolling in his seat. “...Im sorreh, come back.”
More laughter and the sound of his body hitting the ground, again.
He gave a new definition to the term, Rolling on the Floor, Laughing.

“Wha’ yeh doing back so quick?”
I paused, whipping my eyes around, meeting a set of delightful baby blues, a smile creeping onto my face. My body snapped around, running into Tom chest, snuggling against his dark red flannelette cover-shirt.
“Woah, yeh acting lik’ yeh haven't seen meh in a while.”
“Yuf bruddf if sifffck.”
Tom froze. “Wha’?”
I moved away from his chest, my face drifting up to his. “Your brother is sick.”
He tensed, his hands gripping my arms. “Somethin’s wrong with Olleh?” he was deadly serious, his face dropping, the colour starting to move.
I widened my eyes. “Oh god no, well, yes, but not in a bad way.”
Tom relaxed, exhaling loudly. “Yeh had meh worried.”
“What I meant was, that he’s disgusting, dirty, whatever.”
“ ‘E tellin yeh ‘bout when him and I....”
I glanced sideways at Tom, wondering what he was getting at. He sensed my hostility, shutting up instantly. “Neva mind.”
I raised an eyebrow, peeing at Tom awkwardly.
“I... uhh, wha’ was ‘e talkin’ ‘bout?” Tom wound an arm around my back, one hand perched on my hips. Leading us down the hall, he opened the doors for us, guiding me through the hospital as I drabbled on about Oliver’s intentions about Amanda. Tom cackled along with the jokes, and acted serious for the non-funny bits, but overall, he wasn't interested. My heels clicked on the concrete, my body ceasing on the spot. Glancing down, I quietly hummed, clicking heels together.
“Why are we outside?”
“Curtis aint in ‘ospital anymore.”
Tom took one of my hands in his, weaving our fingers together, palm against palm. Smiling, he guided me off the concrete owned by the hospital, my heels pattering against the tarmac of the car park. Grinning like a school kid, he pushed me into the car and buckled my seat belt. Fidgeting in the seat to get comfortable. Laying my hands by my side, they frayed the sides of the car seat, small strands of cotton coming off in my hands. Tom smacked my hands away, shaking his head.
“Yeh wreck it.”
“What are you waiting for?”
Tom placed his lips over mine, crushing them in a bruising kiss. Forgetting to breath, my lungs spasmed inside, forcing coughing fits to erupt. I fought them back, wrapping my hands around Tom’s neck, deepening the brusing kiss.
Pulling away, he panted, his hair dishevelled, his lips were red, a tinge of pink forming around the outside. I'm sure mine resembled the same pattern. He grinned, pecking my lips one last time, patting my upper thigh.
“Tom?”
My body froze, tensing at the mere, faint echo of the voice. The strong accent rolling around in my head. Tom felt my body cease, giving my hand a tight squeeze. He bent to my level, lifting one foot to rest on the side of the car.
“I love yeh, yeh kno’ tha’?”
My heart soared, an uncontrollable blush breezing across my cheeks. I held back a smile, but the tugging at my lips refused to budge, the smile appearing. Oliver appeared by Tom’s side, one arm drapped over his younger brother, his dark eyes looking down at me.
“We goin’ ‘ome?”
“You aren't going to drop me off home?” I questioned, tilting my head to the side. Oliver waved me away, sliding open the door to the car, squeezing himself into the back, the car bouncing around under his weight.
Tom gave me a heart warming smile, his eyes twinkling with that light blue colour. Leaning down, he rubbed the tip of his nose against mine, our foreheads pressed.
“Yeh comin’ ‘ome with meh, little gal.”
I let out a small giggle, his breath ghosting over my face, warmth brushing over my eyelashes, moving across to my ears, grazing down over my lips.
“Do you have candy?”
Oliver huffed, disapprovingly.
“Onleh wha’s in meh pants...”
Tom stepped back, a mischievous grin crossing his features as he shut my door, shutting Oliver’s on the way around the car.
“What about Lee and Curtis? Surely you cant put them in the same car together, they’ll....”
“Feck each otheh’s brains out.” Oliver finished my sentence, leaning into the front of the car, each arm wrapped around one seat.
I raised an eyebrow. “Not really what I had in mind, I was thinking more along the lines of ‘kill each other’.”
My eyes drifted over to Tom’s side of the car, his eyes firmly plastered to the road, the white lines reflected in his eyes. His grip tightened on the wheel as he rounded the corner, slipping it between his palms. Oliver dribbled on about Lee and Curtis getting along, the constant sexual innuendo appearing, along with his rare smile. My attention was solely aimed at Tom, his baby face, his blue eyes, his concentration.
Oliver finally realised that talking to me was like talking to a brick wall, and huffed before forcing himself back into his seat, pouting.
Concentrating, Tom never noticed the small smirk cross my lips, the wonderment in my eyes, the words I wanted to express in the car, and the urge that I had to fight back, the urge to jump to his side of the car and molest him.
Of course, Oliver would disapprove.
“Eh, stop staring at Tom, ‘s makin’ meh sick.” Oliver grumbled, kicking the back of my seat.
“Fuck you, Oliver.” I spat, facing the front, my fingers flicking at the fraying car seat. Tom sat still, in his own little world, unable to here me and Oliver bitch at each other.
“Yeh wish yeh could, love.” he cooed, moving to the front, his face peering next to mine. I threw my hand back, missing his face by inches.
“Oh, grow up.”
“ ‘Oney, I am oldeh than yeh.” He laughed, clicking himself back into his seat. Tom stirred next to me, one free hand sliding across the car, perching on my thigh. Carefully, I placed one of my own over the top, weaving our fingers together.
“Wha’ yeh two babies arguin’ ‘bout, now?”
Oliver choked back a cough, spluttering in the back. I winked, brushing away his comment.
“Babeh? Whose THA babeh of tha famileh?”
Tom nodded.
“But who’s betteh in bed?” Tom winked at me, barely taking his eyes off the road, but the tightening of his hand around my thigh told me that the comment was thrown in my direction, a warning for thongs to come.
Oliver disgustingly sighed, sticking his tongue out and contorting his face.
“Pleas’ keep it in yeh pants, till we get ‘ome, and even then, I Don't wanna ‘ear it. Got me?”