Pretty Bird

The first thing I did when Oliver and I got home was throw my purse down, and immediately escape to the shower. At first, I told myself that I desperately needed that 'clean feeling', that feeling when you're in the shower that the rest of the world is in some other dimension, along with problems and issues and everything else. By the time my fingers began to prune up, and the steam began to cling to the glass mirror, my mind had finally come to another conclusion- I was scared.

The last thing I wanted was another fight.

Not surprisingly, Oliver and I were silent on the drive home, even though I could see his eyes glance down at me during every red light, trying to think of a way to start talking. In relationship books, they always say that its always the woman who feels the need to communicate, to express and convey emotions. Apparently, women are social creatures, who gain closeness through emotion. They say that men tend to run and hide, to try and 'fix it on their own', that they try to analytically fix their problems, not share them. I guess Oliver and I were pretty opposite, and it had been that way from the beginning. I was running, Oliver was chasing. Oliver was spilling his guts, I was tentatively choking mine out, word by word.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, hair piled on my head in a damp bun, one of Oliver's t-shirts thrown over my head along with my plaid pajama pants, I tried to ignore Oliver sitting on the farside of the bed, his back to me. He had to have heard the door open and shut, but he didn't move. I could see his back rise and fall every few seconds from breathing, but his head stayed in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. The uncomfortable feelings of knowing I was about to bare my soul for him soon flooded by entire body, making a shiver run up my spine.

I was about to speak, but he beat me to it, as if he knew we were both desperately trying to think of something to say.

"Is it even worth it?" He whispered, lifting his face from his hands to give me a long, painful stare. His dark eyes, which were normally so deep and expansive, seemed to be filled with confusion.

"Is what worth it?" I whispered back, sliding slowly onto the bed next to him, mimicking his body position.

He took a long, slow pause, as if he had to prepare himself to say the words. "Us. Me and you."

I could feel the air hitch deep inside my wind pipe, the look on my face a mixture of intense, excruciating pain and utter confusion. "...What?"

"Christian," He sighed, taking another pause. He turned to me, taking one of my hands in his. "I said a lot of things I didn't mean, but I think you meant every word you said."

I just stared at first, his slow, even breaths stunning me into a state of complete panic. "You mean outside? About kids?"

He nodded, looking down at the floor, and then at me again. "I don't think you're selfish at all. You take care of everyone around you. I mean, look at Blake...he's okay now, because of you. You're the reason he decided to try and get clean, Christian. Look at Tom. I'm his own brother and I can't comfort him the way you do. He trusts you, more than I think he has ever trusted anyone else. He looks up to you. And, look at me...You've changed my life so much, for the better. I can't imagine me without you for the rest of my life, because you just make everything so good, and I don't think I'll ever be this happy again without you. But at the same time..." He took a moment to collect his thoughts, trying to gather as much conviction as he could in his voice. "I can't ruin your life just to make me happy. I was being the selfish one, not taking what you wanted into account. I just got caught up in some dream, some fantasy that seems so fucking good in my head, and I want it. I want it bad. But sometimes people can be so in love, but have different plans in life. I know I've already made you fit your life into mine, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing you did something so drastic and huge like have kids, just because I wanted them. It's like I'd be pinning your wings."

I felt the first burning hot tear roll down my cheek, followed by a second and a third. I looked down reflexively, trying to hide the overwhelming, sickening feeing that had overtaken my body. A tear splashed on Oliver's hand before he finally realized I was upset.

"Love? Christian?" His voice finally broke, losing the smooth, convicting demeanor it had before, the true Oliver coming out. "Are you crying?"

I shook my head a few times, and lifted my hand away from his, trying to wipe the tears off of my face.

He didn't say anything, just gently took my face into his hands, his four fingers on each hand sliding into the hair on either side below my ears, his thumbs resting on my jawbone. "Baby, don't cry. It's alright." He whispered, gently pulling my closer to him, his lips gently kissing my forehead.

I instinctively pulled myself into his body, my arms wrapping around his skinny frame, our bodies now inches away on the bed, our legs tangled together as my eyes continued to just let tears go.

"You have so many plans, Christian. And I know that." He started again, his voice in a soft whisper, as melodic as a lullaby. "You can do so much. You're amazing, and sometimes its easy for me to take it forgranted because I'm around you so much. You're right, you're a great designer. You're great at Drop Dead, you're clearly an amazing friend, and easily the best girlfriend I have ever had. It would be stupid of me to try and hold you down, make you be something you're not."

"Oliver," I stuttered out, my mouth feeling incredibly dry and full of cotton.

He ignored me though, continuing on as if he didn't hear me. "I love you. I love you more than I think you will ever even begin to understand because I know I'll never be able to express it. I was being selfish, but I know ultimately I just want you to be happy. I want you to look back at your life when you're old and I want you to be proud of yourself, and every decision you've ever made. I know you love me too, but this is about you. You need to be happy."

"I am." I managed to whisper, looking up into his deep, watery eyes. "I am happy."

"But you won't be, if I want a family and you don't." He said matter of factly, his tone still gentle.

"I don't know, Oliver. I have no idea." My voice grew stronger as the thoughts began forming cohesively again in my mind. "I don't have these grandiose visions in my head of a white picket fence and 2.5 children like you do. I don't have really any plans for the future, because up until now I've just planned my future around you, and I liked that. I didn't mind that."

"But it's unfair." He said, wrapping his arms around me tight, pulling me onto his chest as he laid down onto the bed, his head resting on a pillow.

"It's love. Love is sacrifice." I explained, the line repeating in my head from when I screamed it at him on his parent's driveway just hours before. "Just like what you're trying to do now, sacrifice your happiness to try and make me happy. Trying to tell yourself we need to break up because of this whole kids thing."

He was the silent one this time, giving me the confidence to finish my thoughts. "I'm scared, Oliver. I am so scared. I don't hate kids, or hate families, or anything. But it's just so unknown. All I know is how to take care of myself. It's predictable and safe. You know me, it took me ages to just warm up and open up to you. And now I have you here and I'm scared of having such a huge responsibility like that. I don't know anything about kids or parenting or being a good mom or whatever."

"No one knows how before they actually experience it. Look at Lee," Oliver cracked a tiny smile, his mind reminiscing in the past. "Before Aubrey, I don't even think he acknowledged children. Now all he does is take her to the park and watch Baby Einstein or whatever with her. He's convinced she is going to go to Oxford. Who the hell knew he would change into what he is now?"

"Or I could go the complete opposite and become some child abuser crazy lady who doesn't know how to handle her kids." He raised his eyebrows and gave me an awkward look as I shrugged and smiled slightly. "It could happen."

"I don't think you even have the capacity to hurt a little kid." He smiled reassuringly, kissing my forehead. "I think you'd be great. You keep everyone else sane already, I think you'd be way better than you even let yourself think."

I responded by pressing my lips gently against his, keeping the kiss slow and soft, his lips soft and inviting against mine. Finally I pulled away, my eyes staring deep into his. "I think it is."

"It is what?" He whispered back, reaching over to turn off the bedside light, the moonlight shining through the window illuminating us in a slow, silver glow.

"It is worth it." I explained, curling up into his body and throwing the blankets over us. "You're worth everything in the entire world."

______________________________

"Well hello there sunshine!" I laughed, watching Oliver step out of the bedroom clad only in his boxers, his hair sticking up in awkward directions. "Merry Christmas!"

His eyes were still half closed as he rubbed the sleep out of them, collapsing down next to me on the couch. He mumbled incoherently before I was able to pick out the words 'Christmas to you too."

"What time do we have to be at your parents?" I asked, as he laid his head onto my shoulder, yawning loudly.

"11."

"Well, good thing I set the alarm for 9 then, right? You would have slept into lunchtime easily." I smiled, trying my best to be his complete opposite, even though I was ridiculously tired myself. After Oliver and I had successfully 'talked it out' the night before, we both found sleeping incredibly difficult. All I wanted to do was be near him, not in a sexual way, but in a way I cant really explain. We were both more than happy laying in bed until well past midnight, floating in some place between sleep and consciousness.

"I have something for you." His voice broke me out of my daydream, along with his smiling face.

"You do?" I asked, snapping back into it. "Oh, so do I!" I beamed, making him twist his face into a look of fake anger.

"We're supposed to have saved all of our presents for when we're at Mum and Dad's!"

"Well you didn't do that!" I shot back, crossing my arms across my chest in mock exasperation. "Just hush up and close your eyes!"

He glared at me before obeying my command, closing his eyes and leaning his head back onto the couch.

I tried to get up without having the couch shift under my weight, but as soon as I was up I ran into the kitchen, my bare feet slapping loudly against the wood floors. On the counter was his present, wrapped in bright red wrapping paper, a white bow slapped on top. I grabbed it and ran back to my place on the couch, setting it on Oliver's lap. "Behold." I said, as Oliver's eyes opened.

He stared down at the present in his lap, his hands instantly ripping the bow off and sticking it on the top of my head. I just giggled and motioned for him to open it, which he did in seconds flat. When all the red wrapping paper was in scraps around us on the couch, he began to take in his present.

It was a box, about a foot tall and a foot wide, plain black. He gave me an odd look before opening it, the top coming off easily as he set it down next to him. The first thing he pulled out was a standard piece of paper, made of cardstock and colored turquoise blue. He flipped it over, revealing a scrapbook page, covered with pictures of him and I, most importantly a picture of Oliver and I sitting at that outdoor table in Sheffield, his mother's wedding ring shining in the sunlight above us. He was smiling wide, I was laughing and rolling me eyes at him, probably from some ill mannered joke he had whispered to me moments before the waitress took the picture. He held the thick piece of paper delicately in his hands, studying the pictures and colors for a moment before setting it down next to him, and pulling out the next piece of cardstock paper, this one lime green. On this one was a picture us again at Lee's party, Aubrey sleeping softly in Oliver's arm as I stood on my tip toes and kissed him on the cheek, his free hand wrapped around my waist as his other hand supported Aubrey. He smiled wide at that one, looking at me for a second before setting it down on top of the other one. The next piece of thick paper was black, with the writing on it done in silver glitter pen. There was only a small picture of me on it, at a pub with a tall vodka and 7-up in my hand. I was smiling wide, obviously drunk, my hand giving the camera a peace symbol. The writing took over most of the page, glittering in the light, flowing smoothly down the page.

"It's beautiful." Oliver commented, looking over it before looking at me, a small smile on his lips.

"You can't read it yet." I said, taking it out of his hands and setting it face down on the other papers. "It's for when you go on tour."

"That's dumb." He pouted, pulling the next object out of the box. He pulled out a tiny book, made up of one hundred pieces of paper the size of postcards. The front cover was just a white blank page, making Oliver furrow his brow in confusion. He opened it up, and began to read.


Reason 1:
-Oliver Sykes, you have a 'GP', and even if I think using acronyms is the stupidest thing in the world, I still want to be apart of it.

He read the chunky black words on the white paper over and over, before letting the small smile on his face become huge, his fingers flipping to the next page.


Reason 2:
-I know the only reason you didn't pass that van full of nuns driving to Sheffield in August is because you didn't want to get in an accident. I love that you always try your best to care of me in the smallest ways.

His eyes danced across that page too, before I gently took the book out of his hands, resting it on the stack of paper. "The rest are for when you're on tour also." I smiled, and kissed him gently on the lips, before letting him see the rest of the things in the box.

The next thing was the biggest, a soft fleece blanket, red on one side and black on the other, the two different colors of fabrics tied together in hundreds of knots lining the edges of the blankets. He brought it to his face and inhaled the scent, softly rubbing it against his face before setting it down. "In case I get cold, right?"

"I heard it can get cold in Japan. I googled it." I grinned, making him laugh.

"This is an amazing present. I love you." He set the empty box down, instead pulling me into his arms and kissing me again, his lip ring becoming warm against my touch. He held me tight against his body, the bare skin of his chest keeping me warm, even though I was wearing a t-shirt. "But now its time for yours!" He smiled, getting up off of the couch. "Now its your turn to close your eyes."

I rolled my eyes with a big smile on my face, before letting my eyes close. I heard him shuffle around, and open the front door.

"Oliver...?" I said after a few seconds of silence, my eyes still closed as I sat on the couch. I opened my eyes, and saw I was in the flat alone, Oliver's coat and boots missing by the front door. "Oh great," I said out loud, smiling. "My boyfriend decided to ditch me on Christmas." I giggled to myself, before I heard heavy footsteps come up the walkway, and the front door burst open. I closed my eyes immediately, trying to look as normal as possible.

I heard him take his boots and coat off, before I heard a short pause, and the pitter patter of someone, or something else in the hallway. "Open them!" He called after a while, the noise of the other thing on the hard wood coming closer and closer to me, until something small and fluffy bounded up the couch and into my lap, covering my hands in kisses.

"A puppy!?" I exclaimed, my eyes shooting open to see a tiny brown puppy with floppy ears and paws much too big for its body, wagging its tail and licking my hands excitedly.

"It's a boy." He said, smiling wide as he sat next to me. "A chocolate lab."

I just smiled wide, scratching him behind the ears as he wagged his tail even faster and stared up at me with happy, deep brown eyes. "He's like a little bear!" I exclaimed as he sat in my lap, begging for a tummy rub.

"Merry Christmas." Oliver whispered, kissing my cheek and looking down at the puppy in my lap. "Now you won't be so alone when I can't be here. I'll let him sleep in the bed only when I'm gone." He joked, petting the puppy gently on the head as my fingers scratched up and down his belly.

"He's adorable." I commented, turning to Oliver and kissing him gently. "Thank you so much."

"What's his name?" Oliver asked, as the puppy gently chewed on his finger.

I furrowed my brows for a moment, watching the dog play with Oliver's finger, still outstretched on his back on my lap. "Kodi." I said matter of factly, turning to Oliver. "Like the species of bear. You know, Kodiak Bears."

"Kodi." Oliver repeated, smiling and petting the puppy once more. "I like it."