Apology Accepted

I opened my eyes to see Matt standing above me with a slight grin on his face. He handed me a chocolate muffin. I took it from him and set it on my stomach, closing my eyes again.

“Olleh called,” Matt grinned as my eyes fluttered back open, “’E said ‘e’ll be ‘ere in like thirty minutes an’ ‘es takin’ yeh out.”

“Out where?” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and grabbing my muffin before sitting up.

“I dunno.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and put my feet on the floor, running a hand through my hair. I peeled the wrapper from my muffin and took a big bite of it, “Mmm, this is really good,” I mumbled, swallowing, “Where did you get these?”

“I made ‘em.” He said, taking the rest of it from me, “Now go take a shower and get dressed. You can finish the muffin later.”

I stood up and looked at him, reaching for the muffin again, “Matt. Give it back!” I laughed.

He merely shook his head and walked away, placing it on the counter, “Shower. Clothes. Hair. Then muffin.”

I laughed slightly, glad I could be so comfortable around someone I hardly knew. Usually, I was awkward and quiet, but Matt had one of those personalities that you just couldn’t be awkward around. He was sweet, and caring. And he did nothing for himself. It seemed like he was only here to make things better for other people, people like Oliver.

I stretched lightly and shot Matt one last grin before heading towards the shower. I stopped at the shower door when Matt said something to me.

He was leaning against his counter, chomping down on an another apple; I swear I’d seen him eat like five of those things since I’d been here.

“This is the first mornin’ Olleh’s called meh and not been ‘ungover.”

It was an obvious statement, and he had said just as nonchalantly as he would have mentioned that he was out of coffee filters.

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I suppose it was somewhat of a thank you, like maybe he was happy I finally showed up here, because Oliver didn’t drink when I was around, he was well enough within himself that he didn’t need alcohol to balance him out. So I simply grinned at him knowingly and stepped into the bathroom.

It only took me eight minutes to shower, which left me with about twenty two minutes to do my hair and get dressed. So, I quickly shook my hair out, getting rid of as much water as I possibly could, then I ran some gel through it and crunched it in between my fingers, too lazy to blow dry it and mess around with it. My heart was pumping the whole time I was doing this. I didn’t want to take too long and make Oli late for whatever he was taking me to do.

Then, just the thought of Oliver made my stomach flip at least three times and it made me sick. Not in a bad way, no. It made me sick because I was so anxious, so excited, so nervous to be able to spend time with him, alone.

Yesterday, my nerves and my mind were too screwed up to do anything but cry my eyes out and look at him like he was completely nuts. I was terrified, I still am terrified. It’s so, surreal being around him. I haven’t seen him for three, almost four months, and now he’s back in my life, just like that. And I know that things should just snap back into normal, and I should be okay again, content with life.

But I’m not.

I’m scared out of my wits, shaking in my shoes, and I can hardly keep my breath when I’m around him. Granted, I’ve only spent maybe three hours with him since I’d been here. Hell, I’d spent more time with Matt that I had with Oliver. But, it’s just weird. I’m not going to run away from him, and leave him here without at least trying to make something out of this big mess.

Because, I know that there is something. In the way that his hazel eyes make me tingle all over, even to the tips of my toes. The way he holds my hand like he’s never going to let go. Or the softness of his lips on my skin. I know that beneath all these missing broken pieces, there has to be some way that we can pick them up and put them together again.

Neither one of us are strong enough to be without the other. I’ve spent my last few months without Oliver on the brink of a break down every day, crying whenever I got the chance, and when I didn’t, spending all the rest of my time thinking about Oli and how he was, or what he was doing.

Oli’s spent the last few months drinking himself into a coma, and then waking up and doing it all over again.

It’s obvious we need each other. There’s no doubt about it. We just need to find a way to stay together and be strong enough to deal with other’s problems. And I’m scared to find out all of his problems. But I’m even more terrified of him realizing I have a lot more issues than he happens to think.

Suddenly, a loud knock came at the door, followed by Matt’s voice, “Oi, Sam. Yeh’ve been in there fer like twenty minutes an’ I need teh piss.”

Had I really been in here for that long? I looked in the mirror at my unmade up eyes and glanced down at my body, only covered in underwear and a bra.

“Just one second!” I called out, only to hear an annoyed groan.

I quickly pulled my eyeliner and mascara out of my make up bag and lined the bottom of my eyes and covered my lashes. I then reached across the counter and slipped into my jeans, which just so happened to be extremely tight at the bottom. That’s what I get for refusing to try on my clothes before I wash them. I then pulled my t shirt over my head. It was a plain black shirt with Drop Dead, Gorgeous written in big, white letters down the left side.

I picked up a pair of socks from my bag in the closet and grabbed my new shoes, a pair of orange converse, and quickly darted out of the bathroom.

“Sorry about that.” I smiled bending over to put my shoes on, “I lost track of time.”

“Well,” Matt smiled, “Yeh better find it, ‘cause Olleh’s sittin’ on the couch waitin’ fer yeh.”

I looked up through the hair hanging in my face and indeed, there was Oliver, sitting on the couch, clad in a pair of black skinny jeans and a purple t shirt, complete with a black, button up shirt over it. He had a tattooed hand rested on his bouncing knee and grinned nervously at me.

“Are yeh ready Sammeh?”

“You’re early.”

“Always am.” He smiled, “Now ‘urry up, love.”

I quickly averted my gaze back to my shoes, I could feel my face turning red and I was slightly embarrassed. Why? Because I was running late? Big freakin’ deal, people run late. I don’t know why I was embarrassed. All I know is that I was, and that made me even more embarrassed, which made me nervous.

So, by the time I had my shoes laced up and I had recovered my jacket, it’s safe to say I was a shaking mess and I could barely stand up straight as I faced Oliver, said good bye to Matt and followed Oli out to his car.

Oli took my hand in his, as if it was instinct, almost natural to him as he led me to his car. This time, I didn’t make the mistake of stepping into the driver’s side, I got in on the passenger’s side and waited for Oli to get in the car. He started it and backed out, and as he switched gears, he looked at me and smiled.

“What do yeh want fer yeh’re birthday?”

I was a little shocked by the question, so I looked at him and said, “What?” As if I was stupid and didn’t hear him.

“I said-”

“No, I heard what you said.” I paused, “Oli. My birthday was in June. The day you left.” I said casually, not intending to make the air between us tense up, “I mean, it’s over.”

“Yeah, I understand that, but I never got yeh a gift. What do yeh want?” He asked, taking a left at the end of the parking lot.

“Your birthday was a few days ago and I didn’t get you a gift.” I mumbled.

“We ain’t talkin’ about meh birthday, we’re talkin’ about yer’s. Now what do yeh want?”

I pondered the thought for a moment and decided that I wanted to be sarcastic, “I want your head on a stick, Oli.”

“Well,” He smiled, his hands sliding against the wheel as he released it after making another turn, “I’m pretty sure that would be a bloody good time, but I can bet yeh that yeh’d ‘ave much more fun with meh if my ‘ead was attached teh meh body.”

I nodded, “Well to be completely honest with you.” I said, wiping a bit of frost from my window and quieting, “The only thing I really wanted on my birthday was to spend time with you.”

And right after I said that, I realized I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t mean to sound accusatory, or bitter. It just came out like that. I was merely mentioning what I wanted for my birthday.

He cleared his throat, “Well. What do yeh want, not what yeh wanted.”

“I still only want to spend time with you.”

He paused slightly at a stop light, obviously getting irritated not only with the car in front of us, but with me as well, “Sammeh. I missed yer birthday for fuck’s sake. Let meh make it up.”

“I’m not going to fight with you about this Oli. I don’t want you spending gobs of money on me. That’s not going to make up for shit. I want to spend some time with you. I want to talk to you, I want to get to know you again. It’s my fucking birthday present, aren’t I allowed to choose what it is?” I said loudly, my voice getting angry. Soon after I’d finished, I’d yet again, felt extremely embarrassed for getting so cross with Oli.

I looked across at him, expecting to see a hurt expression on his face, but I was met by a slight grin as he turned and looked at me, “Yeh like coffeh?”

I merely grinned, feeling like a complete bitch as he pulled into a small parking spot and turned off the car. He cupped my hand in his and gazed over at me.

“Sammeh, look at meh.”

I looked at him.

“Stop actin’ like yeh don’t know meh.”

“I’m not-”

“This isn’t rocket science. I ‘aven’t changed, Doll. ‘M still Oliver, an’ I will always be Oliver. Now come on, let’s go get ourselves some coffee, alrigh’?”

I merely nodded and pulled the handle to my door, stepping out of the car and following Oli into the coffee shop. Once inside, I was enveloped by the harsh smell of strong coffee, and as we walked towards the counter, I could feel people eyeing me, like I didn’t belong in Sheffield.

It was like they knew my voice wasn’t accented and I was from Idaho, not England. I felt extremely small and like I shouldn’t be there.

Then, I felt Oliver’s hand wrap around mine, his long fingers pressed against the top of my hand as he looked at me and said, “Sammeh, Doll? What do yeh want teh drink?”

And, all those insecurities, all those feelings of embarrassment. The feel of being misplaced, or in the wrong vicinity disappeared. I was with Oliver, and nothing else mattered, because he was with me and I was with him.