'Cause Love Is A Selfish Thing

I hadn't been to Oliver's apartment since the night he had demanded that I come over. I had had good reason to keep as far away from it as possible, obviously. Even if I hadn't, I couldn't have seen myself coming back. I still felt out of place, even in the hallway. No matter how dressed up I made myself -and I of course would never put that much effort into my appearance for this- it was just too grand for me. It was too clean-looking and too white, like a hospital. There weren't bright lights to blind me though. I'd have to do that myself, and keep myself from seeing exactly what I didn't want to see when I stepped through the doorway. I wasn't sure what I was expecting out of this visit, or what person Oliver would be today and turn into when I said something wrong. I had to collect myself as I paced the hallway and tell myself that I was just going to have to be as little of myself as possible before I knocked. I had to wait a few seconds, but heard him shout from inside that he was coming. It was my chance to sprint back toward the front door and book it out of there as fast as I could, but I rooted myself to the spot until the door flew open.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Oliver greeted excitedly, holding his arm out as if he was welcoming me freely but pulling me in with his other hand. I was prepared for the kiss and therefore stood unsurprised and damn near apathetic. "God, it's been too long. How are you?" he questioned, the smile on his face so wide I thought his cheeks might crack.

"...Good," I answered truthfully, slipping my shoes off. Besides the nuisance that he was, things hadn't been horrible. I could thank Alex for that. I tucked my hair behind my ears as I followed Oliver into the kitchen, shuffling along the carpet that was so plush that I left footprints in the fibers. I had only seen the living room the last time, but I wasn't surprised to see that the kitchen was just as large and nice. Not wanting to appear as if I was too comfortable here, I leaned against the doorframe while he returned to the stove. "I've been busy and that's always best for me," I continued, not wanting to stand in silence. If all went like it usually did, he wouldn't question why I liked to have a lot to do.

"Well, come in! Sit down and relax," he insisted, turning to me and waving me into the room. The moment he saw that I was doing as he said, he faced whatever he was cooking again. It was never about me unless he was trying to get me under his thumb, and even that led directly back to what he wanted. I sunk into a chair, thankful that the uncomfortable wood would probably keep me from lapsing into the sarcasm I was accustomed to around him. "Since we're going out all the time, I thought we should stay in tonight. I'm making pasta, and I know, I know. That's such a typical meal for a guy that lives on his own. But it's delicious, I promise!" he went on, shaking spice into a pot that I supposed the sauce was in. His ability to talk so quickly drove me nuts. It was like he wanted to get in every useless fact before I had a chance to say anything more interesting.

Knowing he probably didn't want me to speak even now, I simply nodded and threw him a fake smile when he glanced my way. When he began talking again, I propped my head up in my hand and stared lazily at the stack of mail in the middle of the table. I barely paid attention to what he was saying, only registering that he was talking about the case he had been out of town for. Whatever crime had been committed, I was wrongly grateful for it. Not one word of it broke through the haze in my brain though, and I jumped when he yelled to bring my attention back to him. "What?" I asked, sounding dazed. Anyone else, I probably would have apologized to.

Oliver chuckled lightly. "I asked how much sauce you wanted," he repeated himself, tilting the bowl in his hand toward me so I could see the contents.

It took me another moment before I actually noticed what I was looking at. "Um, just a little bit more, please," I answered dully. He added some sauce accordingly before sliding the bowl in front of me. I was actually starving and could have eaten anything even if he had promised it to be terrible. But I waited until he had sat down and taken a bite of his own, my paranoia getting the best of me. Saying someone's pasta is delicious may not say a lot about their cooking, but I was regretting ever agreeing to eat because I couldn't deny that it was good. Falling back into thinking he was all right just because he might be a good cook was the last thing I needed.

I was highly mistaken if I thought we could simply eat in silence. Being awkward myself, I could deal with the silences filled with it as long as it didn't mean anything bad. He wasn't like that though. He was a lot like Alex in that he never even noticed the awkwardness, but he couldn't just let it be quiet. He talked and talked and talked. So much so that I forgot that there used to be a time when we could actually have a conversation. Maybe this was my own fault because I didn't even want to be here. I liked to blame him though and it was easy to since he tried so little to get me to talk. It drove me to a point of annoyance that I couldn't even throw myself into thought of imagining being with Alex instead of him like I had earlier.

"Why me?" I blurted, completely interrupting him in the middle of whatever the hell he was rambling on about. This was a question that had been meant solely for me, to stay in my head to ponder over. Because I had burst out with it, I was already cringing at the simple thought of him getting testy. But I couldn't get rid of it and I had to admit that it was a logical inquiry. Pretending to elaborate in return of his confused expression, I went on. "Why did you talk to me in that coffee shop? I wasn't paying attention at all, but there had to have been someone in there more appealing than me. At the very least, not completely disheveled, looking like they were about to break down, and jonesing for a cup of coffee. What exactly made you set me in your sights and then ask me out?" Was I talking myself down? Of course. It was my best tactic, the one I would always believe I could keep on hand. And using it made it sound more like I was asking why he would want me to be his girlfriend rather than why I had to be the one subjected to his terror.

Oliver laughed lightly, staring down into his bowl and running his fork over the pasta. "You make it sound like you're a leper," he claimed with a small shake of his head. This wasn't enough for me, and I let him know by dropping my own fork and leaning back in my chair. Deep in his eyes, I could see what had to be exasperation. It made what I had always thought was a solid hazel flash darkly with anger. I had to be careful from here on out. "I don't know," he admitted. "You're a very pretty girl, Clarke. At the time, you looked like you could use something to make you smile and I thought I could do that. I like to think that I succeeded and have kept up with it."

This was something I could shoot down without a moment's thought, but I forced myself not to this time around. I didn't like his answer at all though. It left me convinced that I had pretty much been picked at random. Maybe because I was the only one that he could get to easily. There was no real reason why I was stuck in this disaster with a man who believed us to be dating and had threatened me if I said otherwise. My head was about to explode.

"I have to go!" I exclaimed suddenly, standing just as abruptly. My chair tipped over from the speed of it and I jumped over it in my effort to get to the living room. Vaguely, I could hear him following quickly after me. "I just remembered I have so much left to do for work tomorrow. Uh, thanks for dinner?" I added somewhat unsure of myself, already throwing my boots on. I had no clue what else to say, so I just opened the door.

"Clarke, I-" he began, obviously planning on getting me to stay.

I, however, did not want to stick around to see what me running out might cause him to act like. I moved down the hall as fast as I could without running. Sliding into the driver's seat of my car, I breathed a sigh of relief. This meeting could have ended so much more negatively. I couldn't keep my mouth shut like I had been determined to do and the information I had learned as a result just left me unsettled. But I had gotten out of there before he could even think about what meaning lay behind my words. I ran my fingers through my hair to calm myself down before shoving the key into the ignition and heading to a house I spent more time at than my own.

It wasn't hard to put this behind me for the time being. I wanted this to be over with more than anything and it was nothing to pretend like it was. Even while sick, Hadley had decided that planning was more important than claiming death and had put me to work. As if I wasn't already constantly tired, the wedding left me exhausted and gave me a permanent headache in the region at the base of my skull. I was almost afraid of what I'd be met with today when I entered the house, hence easily forgetting Oliver. Things appeared to be calm though, a single person occupying the living room.

"Hey, you're out of bed!" I exclaimed, somewhat shocked to see Hadley curled up in the armchair and scrolling through something on her laptop. She had even made the effort to get dressed, but had piled one of Marshall's old hoodies on top of her own clothes. Hearing me, she looked up briefly to nod and appeared exactly how you'd expect someone that had had the flu for nearly a week to. She turned her attention back to the internet almost instantly though, letting her head fall back against the chair from her own fatigue. "Where's Marsh?" I wondered, sitting on the section of the couch closest to her and stretching my legs out to cover the rest.

"He and Daniel went with Justin to a fitting for their tuxes," she answered, speaking into the sleeve she had pulled over the hand held up to her mouth. She didn't even take her eyes off the computer screen. It was a good thing I remembered that Justin was Marshall's roommate from New York and his best friend because it didn't look like Hadley wanted to answer anymore questions. She didn't say anything for a few minutes and I took it as an opportunity to get comfortable. Suddenly though, she seemed to make a decision because she sat up rapidly. "I think you should watch this. Well, listen to it mostly," she said when I turned my head to face her.

My eyebrows pulled together but I sat up again and took the computer from her outstretched hand. She stood up instantly, mumbling about how Evan had posted it and then that she would be right back. Apparently, I was supposed to watch it alone because the expression on her face told me she felt uncomfortable. Rolling my eyes, I clicked the play button on the video that had clearly been shot at some concert.

My best friend had been right that the video itself wasn't what I'd be paying attention to. The audio was what was important and it easily let me know that it was the boys, which made sense, considering who filmed it. I couldn't say that the song exactly had me in tears -thanks to the audio being fairly crude- or that the lyrics had me completely enthralled so promptly. But there was a tightening in my throat and I was already digging through my purse for my phone before the video had played through. I didn't look for Hadley to see what she had to say about it like I normally would. I only checked the time before heading toward the stairs. They would already be done with their show due to the time difference and I figured Alex would more than likely still be awake. Seated firmly on the bed of the bright guest room, I lifted my phone to my ear after tapping on his number.

He answered enthusiastically, obviously having seen it was me and now excited to talk. But all I could find appropriate was, "Is the new song about us?" I wished I could stop blurting things today. Would I not like the answer to this as I hadn't to what I had asked Oliver? The chances of that were slim, because I couldn't admit it was a bad thing either way. A heads up would have been nice though.

Alex chuckled, evidently amused by this. I was sick of men being entertained by my serious questions. "About us? No, I wouldn't say so, no," he replied, his tone the exact same as his laugh. I wasn't going to justify it with laughing it off as well or even demanding he tell me the truth. My silence was thick and I was pretty sure he understood that I was grinding my teeth in annoyance at the evasion. He sighed, knowing he would have to go on if he wanted to have an actual conversation with me tonight. "When I reworked the song, yes, I drew inspiration from the shit we've been through. Clarke, you have to understand that we got back together right before I started writing for the record. No, not every song on it has just one set story behind it. But don't be pissed if things between us inspired some of what you're going to hear," he explained, urging me to see where he was coming from.

It was my turn to let out a heavy sigh. I slid back on the bed, pulling my legs up to cross them in front of me. I knew that I couldn't get mad, even without him pointing it out, and I was sure I hadn't exactly been in the first place. I wasn't going to hold what had come out while he was writing lyrics against him. And if I wanted to admit it, the fact that I'd been on his mind while he did write made my heart beat out of sync and so much faster. "I'm not mad. I just wanted to know," I promised him, making sure the bottom of my dress covered both of my knees to keep me from sitting idle.

"Good. I would feel terrible if it made you angry. Or if you didn't like it. Did you like it?" he asked, spitting the words out as if the thought to do so had come to him faster than he could handle.

I smiled, holding back the giggle at how vulnerable yet thrilled he sounded. "Yes, I liked it. Give me a chance to listen to it again, and I'm sure I'll love it," I admitted, tracing the flowers near my hemline. I was antsy now, wishing we were close to each other. I couldn't make my fingers stay still and assumed I wouldn't be able to keep my body in one spot soon enough.

When Alex spoke again, a large smile was evident in his voice. "I'm glad. How does it feel to still be an All Time Low fan after all these years even though we suck?" he inquired jokingly, chuckling.

I finally let my laugh out. "Shut up," I demanded lightly. "What are you doing?" I questioned, completely changing the subject. For the moment, I completely forgot that I was in my best friend's home while she waited downstairs for my reaction to the video she'd had me watch.

"I am in my bunk, trying not to spill my wine on myself and getting ready to watch a movie," he answered, not bothered in the least that I had chosen to talk about something else. He hadn't been out of the country more than a couple days and he hadn't had a chance to call me yet. I had a feeling he was simply happy I had done so first, no matter the initial reason. "I've been trying for like an hour, but Jack thinks we need to be playing real life Fruit Ninja every second of the day. We should watch something together though!" he suggested eagerly. This was something we had taken a liking to during the tour I had refused to go on. Watching the same movie together despite being miles apart had been the easiest way to forget that I wasn't there.

"I'm not home," I responded morosely, brought back to the present and reality. Remembering where I was, I stood again and headed for the bedroom door. "I'm demanding we do that soon though. Horror movies," I told him. He made no protest, and again I knew it was because he was pleased to hear I planned on calling again. I was happy about it, too. I had never been more proud of myself to follow through with a simple request. It was so much better to get through the struggle with Oliver when I knew I got to talk to Alex.

He made the promise that this would happen if Matt's life depended on it. We only talked for a few more minutes before I figured I would have to talk to Hadley sooner or later since I was there solely for her. I wasn't upset to hang up though. I knew we would talk again and it wouldn't be weeks like it had been all winter. I was praying that it wouldn't be much longer until I got to say the same thing about being together.