Pretty Bird

Electric Feel; MGMT

Oliver was always fantastic about his promises. When I had basically demanded to him that we get the hell out of Germany, the plane tickets were booked for that night: the red eye out of Berlin at 3 in the morning. Luckily, we had already had the meeting with the new buyers, and the rest of the trip was supposed to be for fun. Oliver's birthday was in 2 days, and I had already called Matt to have him set up an impromptu party for when we got back. It was sort of a surprise party, since Oliver wasn't exactly told about it, seeing as though he thought it would have been me, him and his brother getting drunk off black German beer all night. I was never ever good at surprises though, whichever end I was on. If someone was surprising me, I either pulled a 'hide under the bed' stunt, or I figured it out before the surprise took place. And, if I was the one giving the surprise, I normally would just let it out to the person before they even had a chance to know they were being surprised. It was just the way I was. But, thanks to Baby Sykes and all of his patience, he had managed to keep me from saying something stupid to or around Oliver, keeping my idiotic slip up nonexistent for this surprise. He wanted Oliver to be surprised, and to be honest, all three of us needed a little pick me up after the fiasco with my parents. The sad thing was, poor Tom walked into a minefield that day; at least Oliver knew the basic gist of how my parents were. When Oliver told him that we were going to visit my family, Tom thought it would be something like his parents; some lovely, 'Leave It To Beaver' dinner scene where I was reunited with my doting, affectionate parents after 4 long years. He didn't know that it would turn into some screaming match, peppered with choice, nasty insults and me basically being disowned. That night, when Oliver had went to sleep, I slipped out of the hotel room and down into the lobby to get some breathing space. I found Tom in the lobby also, uploading some pictures onto his laptop, the hood of his hoodie thrown over his head. When I had approached him, he smiled weakly at me through tired eyes, his fingers sliding effortlessly over the keys of the laptop.

"I just wanted to apologize..." I whispered, my voice unable to speak at a normal level due to all of my hysterics. "You shouldn't have had to see that."

He just shrugged, closing the screen of his laptop and focusing all of his attention onto me. "It's alright. The past is the past."

"Yeah.." I just stared off into the patterned carpet of the lobby, slightly taken aback by his response. "I just know I wouldn't have wanted to be shoved into the middle of that."

"Caroline's mum is worse. I've been around worse, I mean." I heard him shift in his chair, and the zipper on his hoodie fumble and zip up.

"Oh..." I turned to look up at him again. "Why do you Sykes boys pick girls from fucked up families?"

He just smiled weakly, and shrugged. "That's a good question."

The conversation died slowly, painfully, as if Tom and I were on opposite sides of some battlefield. He fumbled around with the zipper of his hoodie some more, zipping it up and down, as I absentmindedly began braiding a small section of my hair.

"Her mum's always in and out of hospital," His voice pierced the air, shattering the silence. "Psychiatric, I mean. She's been diagnosed I think mostly with being incredibly codependent...on Caroline."

My first reaction was to scoff, and roll my eyes. Of course craziness runs in her family... I thought, but the look in Tom's eyes stopped my cruel thoughts right in their tracks, and I just nodded slowly.

"Caroline lives with my parents and I for that reason; when her mum's getting treatment, she can't be left by herself. But her mum still sends her like, 3 letters a day from the hospital to her old address; it's sick, actually. But I mean, I've been thinking about it a little bit, and it makes sense, doesn't it?"

I tilted my head to the side, letting the new braid in my hair fall out of my hands. "What?"

"Why Caroline is the way she is..." He explained, sighing and closing his eyes. He then opened them again, and opened his laptop back up. "I've been thinking about it a lot...life, and all. And if I could even imagine living with Caroline anymore. But I think I've figured it out."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," He began, typing something into his laptop and turning the screen towards me. It was a google search, the search bar reading 'Codependent Syndrome'. "This is what her mum has, and the symptoms are pretty self explanatory." He clicked on a link, and began listing things off. "Tendency to place the needs and wants of others first and to the exclusion of acknowledging one's own, continued investment of self-esteem in the ability to control both oneself and others, excessive worry how others may respond to one's feelings..." He read, his eyes scanning down the wikipedia page.

"Tom..." I said, our eyes locking. "Caroline sounds about the opposite of that."

"Exactly!" His eyes lit up as he turned the screen back towards him. He typed another thing in, and turned it back to me. Now the google search bar read 'Narcissistic Personality Disorder.' He clicked on a link, and began listing off some more. "Has a grandiose sense of self-importance, requires excessive admiration, lacks empathy, shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes, is often envious of others or believes others are envious of him or her..." He was still listing some more when all of a sudden, something in my head clicked.

"The ring!" My eyes went wide as my memory shot back to that day a few weeks prior. "Thomas, the ring!"

"What?" He asked, looking confused. I held out my hand, now showing my own Tiffany's engagement ring. It had come from Leeds the day before the trip to Germany, so the weight of the diamonds was still foreign to my finger. "Your ring is right there, Christian."

"No! No, remember that day, when you pretended to yell at Oliver and I?" I was getting excited, Tom's theories finally clicking in my mind. "When I went up to apologize, I let it slip out that Oliver proposed to me!"

Tom's eyes went wide now, his brain starting to connect the pieces, even if i was still incredibly vague. "And?"

"She told me that I yelled at her because I couldn't stand to not be the center of attention...that she would always have a baby, but I'd only be engaged a little while..." I took a deep breath, my mind swimming in the thoughts of that hostile conversation. "Tom, I think she was talking about herself. She couldn't handle not being the center of attention. And it makes sense, with how she's been with the baby, and how she was at that dinner, when she announced that you two were having a girl, even after that fight and all. And for Fucks Sakes Tom, the fights! How she threw a fucking epic fit when she found out you were coming with us! She said 'What if I die?!'!" I felt all of the air rush out of my lungs, my chest heaving slightly as I looked into Tom's eyes. "I think...I think you might be right."

He just nodded slowly, taking in my words. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

I nodded profusely, and began cracking my knuckles. "And, when I told her about how I was borrowing Carol's ring, I believe her exact words were..." I closed my eyes, trying my best to replay the scene in my head, as if it were a movie. "If Tom was to propose to me, I wouldn't get that ring?" That's what she said."

Tom's eyes got even wider somehow. He looked to be in shock for a few moments, before he leaned back into his chair, his hands clasped together in his lap. He remained silent, letting the gravity sink in slowly.

"Oh my god..." I breathed, sinking back into my chair as well.

"It makes sense." He repeated, whispering. His eyes turned to mine again. "And they say its linked to having parents who are constantly obsessing over you, like how I'm sure Caroline's mum was. I'm sure of it."

"What are you going to do?" I finally asked, after a long, incredibly heavy pause. Tom's eyes appeared to be glazed over, as if his mind had become prisoner to his own thoughts.

Finally, he turned to me, the same worry that had been evident in his face for so many months now returning. "I can't let my daughter and grow up and be like that. I know I have to do something."

I nodded, reaching my hand out to take his, and squeezed it. "Oliver and I will always be here for you, you know." I smiled gently, trying to coax one out of him as well. He just looked up at me, his eyes wide and expressive, as if I was some sort of savior. "And your baby too. You know how Oliver is with kids." That did happen to bring a smile to his face. The sight made me light up even more, even if it was weak and fleeting.

______________________________________

"You do know what day it is?"

Oliver just glanced up at me, his body in a laying position on the couch. "I'm 23 today." He smiled then, before closing his eyes. "I'm also tired. I'm still getting used to the time difference."

"Unfortunately for you, Sykes," I laughed, opening the bedroom door and walking towards the closet, my eyes scanning over my wardrobe. "Both of us have to change, we have a place to be."

"What if I just want to be here? With you?" He groaned as he sat up off the couch, stretching his arms over his head.

"Too bad." I grinned, pulling out a black minidress. "Don't act like you want to turn down a party, that's not the Oliver I know at all!"

He didn't respond verbally, but with the sound of his bare feet slapping against the hard wood floors, and his hand reaching around my side. Before I knew it, my body was pulled into his, his unstraightened wavy hair tickling my face.

"Oliver!" I giggled, looking up and kissing him forcefully on the lips as his hands moved around and rested on my waist, his fingers laced into the belt loops of my jeans. "Change. Now."

He stuck his bottom lip out, trying to get me to feel sorry for him, but I just laughed, and wiggled away from his hands. My shirt came over my head, and my jeans found their way onto the floor next. When I had pulled the short dress over my head, Oliver was changing as well, his back to me as he pulled a pink t-shirt down over his torso. He adjusted it for a moment, smoothing down wrinkles and creases, before turning back around to me.

"You look beautiful." He smiled, leaning back against the dresser.

I could feel the blood rush to my face, the predictable response I always had when he complimented me. "It's just a black dress," I rolled my eyes, going back into the closet and pulling out a vest. "I'm not trying to stand out. It's your surprise and all."

"Well, I'll stand out with such a pretty bird on my arm."

It was clearly meant to be a compliment, but I felt my shoulder cringe up and my eyes close reflexively.

"What?" I heard him ask, his hands grabbing onto my shoulders. "Are you alright?"

He shook me gently, and I finally opened my eyes. Oliver had somehow managed to zip across the room to right in front of me, his eyes marked with concern.

"Oh...yeah. I'm fine." I smiled weakly, shaking my head. "Just, a memory."

"What happened?" He asked, still looking slightly worried. I sighed, and sat down onto the bed, slipping a pair of black pumps onto my feet. "Just something Blake said. It's nothing."

Oliver sighed, sitting next to me, his nikes next to him. He picked up the left shoe, and put it on his foot.

"He's just scaring me, that's all."

"I don't want to start an argument, especially right now," Oliver sighed, putting his right shoe on once the left one was secure on his feet. "But you didn't even tell me about Blake's problems until you told me you were planning some intervention with Curtis."

I froze, and turned to look at him. His eyes didn't meet mine though, he was staring at his shoes.

"I didn't even realize it..." I finally said, the words seeming choked and awkward through my throat.

"Yeah, you do that a lot, you know." He sounded annoyed now, but at least we made eye contact.

"I know I do." I replied.

"You have no reason to hide things from me anymore, you know. It's kind of insulting."

"Oliver," I breathed, taking his hand in mine. "I will never be an open person. I can try and try, but it will never be. I'm sorry in advance."

His eyes softened again, his hand moving to take mine in his, the gesture reciprocated. "I know. It's alright, I just don't think I'll ever completely understand it."

I smiled, both of us standing and walking out the door of the flat. "Well, not all of us can be so open, Sykes."

He just laughed, and leaned over to kiss my temple, his laugh warm and ticklish against my skin.

______________________________________

His parent's house was dark, perfectly according to plan. If he didn't know what was happening, he was completely clueless. Still, this was the best surprise party planning I could do under such restrictions. His hand was in mine as we walked up the steep drive, passing all of Carol's landscaped flowers and other plants that lined the walkway. I looked through a window, and thought I saw someone moving into the kitchen. Besides that though, the place look deserted. Oliver's hand squeezed mine as his other hand searched the key ring, finally settling on the key to his parents house.

"Surprise!!" The chant hit us like a wave as soon as he pushed the door open, Matt N flashing the lights off and on over and over as everyone else cheered and screamed. I looked up at him, and let our hands disconnect, my body drifting over to the corner as Oliver just stood there laughing, all our friends quickly surrounding him, giving him awkward 'man hugs' and smiling profusely at him.

"Good job, planning this so quick." I heard a voice behind me. I turned to see Holly there, smiling wide as she watched Curtis jump over Matt Nicholls and half tackle Oliver in a man hug.

I just shrugged, motioning over to Tom. "He did the most. I was just in charge with getting the birthday boy here."

"Well, mission accomplished on your end, then." She smiled at me now, and handed me a plastic red cup, the liquid inside a light purple color. "Cosmopolitan. I made sure the boys bought more than just whiskey and coke this time."

I smiled back, before putting the cup up to my lips and taking a sip. "You know me too well, you know. Vodka is my favorite."

"Mine too." She laughed, tapping her plastic cup against mine. "Cheers, to another year of dealing with them." She glanced towards the boys, who were now in some half standing half laying pile on the ground in the middle of the living room, Matt Nicholls making WWE noises.

Oliver may not had been to a proper party recently, but I guess the skill is just like riding a bike- you never forget it. It was only around 11 at night, but he had already refilled his red cup 5 times, full to the brim with the amber colored, bitter whiskey someone had provided for the party. He was also playing beer pong, the 'invincible partnership' of him and Matt back in business, even though they had lost twice to Lee and Vegan. Both Oliver and I had participated in a good game of King's Cup as well, which resulted in his apparent drunkenness. I was still buzzing though, keeping track of my alcohol consumption, and drinking lots of water at the same time. Oliver was always one to get nasty hangovers, so I always tried my best to drink as much water as possible, in order to avoid one myself. The last thing the world needed was a hung over Oliver Sykes without someone to take care of him.

"Love!" I heard his voice over the pulsating music before I even saw his face. "Love!" He called again, this time his body crashing into mine from behind, one hand wrapped around my waist as his other took a huge sip out of his cup.

"Happy Birthday, baby." I giggled, turning around so that I was facing his chest, the people I was having a conversation with scattering, so it was just Oliver and I alone.

"Thanks." He smiled, before pressing his lips against my lower cheek, obviously missing my lips. He didn't let the kiss go though, just moved his face until his lips were centered over mine, his tongue pressing down on my bottom lip. His breath definitely smelled of alcohol, but I didn't mind it, seeing as I was started to get faded as well and my breath wasn't any better.

His tongue forced its way into my mouth, his lip ring pressing against my lip as our mouths crashed together, his hipbones against my stomach. He moved first, taking a step so that he had me pinned against a wall, the alcohol in our cups sloshing around from our unsteady movements together.

"Oliver..." I turned my face to the side, our lips disconnecting. His lips were quick to find a way back on me though, reattaching to my neck, now exposed from me turning my head. He didn't respond though, just rested his hands on either side of my head, his elbows following so that his forearms were against the wall, his body incredibly close to mine. That did it, there was no way I was going to get out of this one. I brought my red cup up to my lips, and downed the rest of it's contents, before letting it drop to the floor next to me. I felt the fruity alcohol fall down into my stomach, before I wrapped both my arms around Oliver's back, pulling his ear to my lips. "Your bedroom, not here." I whispered, his lips moving off of my neck and onto my jawbone. I felt my knees instantly weaken; he knew that was my soft spot. He didn't have to try anymore, I was already an incredibly willing participant.

He didn't respond verbally, just moved his hand down to my hipbone, squeezing my side almost too hard, his lips leaving my jawbone be. I felt my body automatically sigh in objection, my face trying to close the space between his as soon as he let the kiss go. He just smirked, moving his hand from my side to my hand, and began to lead me out of the kitchen where we were and down the hall, and to the door of his basement. He leaned against the door, and I leaned against him as he chugged the rest of his whiskey, setting the red plastic cup on a shelf holding baby pictures of his little brother. With my now pinning him, I giggled and stood on my tip toes. I tripped, and my lips fell painfully into his, our body crashing together all over again. I felt his lips upturn into the kiss, putting his arm around me as he reached around behind him, his hand reaching the door handle and opening the door to the stairwell.

"Uh...Oliver?" I whispered, as both of us looked down the stairs, which seemed to look more and more steep as we stared.

"Not a good idea." He agreed, shutting the door and taking my hand once again. He just gave me one of his classic smirks, before pulling me down the hall some more, this time to the bathroom door. "Safer." He explained, opening the door and pushing me onto the counter, the sink right next to me. He shut the door, and even though he was drunk, he remembered to flip the lock, being walked in on never a fun experience. I had a loose grip on his shoulders, which strengthened considerably as I pulled him into me, his body fitting between my legs as I sat on the edge of the bathroom counter. His hands moved down to my legs, his hands gripping my legs right above my knees. Slowly, his hands moved upwards, pushing my dress up as he went.

"Happy birthday, Sykes." I whispered into his hair, my face resting against his, his breath warm and hot against my shoulder.

"I love you, Christian." He groaned, the buckle on his belt clanging as his hands fumbled to undo it, the sound of denim hitting the floor minutes later.
♠ ♠ ♠
I just want to let you know that Holly is amazing. Direct quote:
'what makes me laugh the most is "BITCHES LIKE DICK SO GET IT GET IT GET IT GET IT GIRLLL" doesn't scar you half as much as spanish songs by shakira does.'
-Holly, July 31st, 2009

MMKAY. SO
thats about as close to a sex scene as I will ever get. ahahahaha
use your imagination, kthnx!

Comments, Subscribe!
And if you havent, let me know if you want a threequel!

Chelsie just started a new Oliver story I am basically obsessing over. Its brand new, but the first chapter just about made me gasp in amazement. It is great.
Here Is The Link

-Mackenziee