Innocence to Experience.

Before that day, I had never seen someone eat so quickly. The moment the french toast, doused in syrup, hit Oli's plate, it seemed to magically dissapear. I never knew Oli knew how to make magic, because it looked like a dissapearing act.

Once finishing the frying process of my own breakfast, I sat down awkwardly. I didn't like how he would just sit there, watching me eat. I felt uncomfortable. After sitting with my hands in my lap for a few moments, Oli finally spoke.

"Are you going to eat?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows. His eyes glanced up at me from behind his fringe. Grabbing my fork, I nodded, trying to ignore his presence to make myself more comfortable. It wasn't as difficult as it usually was. Once again, he made me feel comfortable. Oli sat back further in his seat, his eyes set on me for a few more moments until his attention was moved to his left.

"What are the plans for today?" Oli spoke up once more once I finished my food in silence. Grabbing both our plates, I dropped them both in the silver sink, pouring liquid soap and some water on the dishes and deciding to wash them later. The soap and water would just rest on the plates, so that the syrup wouldn't harden on them, which would make my life ten times harder. Letting the dishes fall with a 'clink' I turned, resting against my kitchen counter. I simply shrugged.

"Great, now you can go meet my cousins and friends." Oli sat back in his seat, grinning seemingly from ear to ear. My eyes widened, and my mouth hung. No no no!. I could feel my heart starting to beat quicker underneath my ribcage. People were not my thing. Not one bit. But this was clearly obvious. Oli though, seemed to have not recieved the memo.

"But-I-Oli I'm not good with ... people." I complained, placing my hands on my hips. My personality usually did not include pushiness, usually I was the push-over. But I really didn't want to deal with strangers. To me, this experience would be like walking in downtown New York, with people pushing and shoving all around me. It'd be hard to breathe.
It'd be much like my last daze. I still couldn't see Oli as a business man.

Oli sighed, shaking his head. He once again opened his mouth to speak, but I turned before he could get a word out. He was deturmined to win, and I didn't feel like having a battle royale. So I went to get ready, quickly slipping on a pair of simple jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. As I passed the bathroom door, I was ever so tempted to walk right in and lock the door behind me. But in fear of Oli breaking it open in attempts to reach me, I continued walking.

As I walked back down the stairs a few moments later, Oli stood on the bottom steps. He smirked at me, a triumphant look direct at my, much like he was shouting "I win!".

"Ready?" I rolled my eyes at him, ignoring the hand he held out to escort me. I was a grown up, I knew how to walk across the street. I pulled open my front door, gazing out into the street. It was slightly chilly and damp, much like we had just recieved a huge rainstorm.

I could hear Oli's footsteps behind me as I made my way across the street. Running a hand through my hair, I then realized, I did not want to walk inside this strangers house first(and that I neglected to look at myself in the mirror that morning). Heavens knew how horrible my hair must have looked at that moment.

Just as I went to turn and run back to my humble and comforting home, Oli stood infront of me, making me turn into his chest. I made a move to get around him, but he quickly held me against him, turning me so we could walk forward. I was slowly regretting my act of courage. I should have just locked myself in my bathroom.

Once we reached the door, Oli let go of my side for once moment to bend over a lift a mat. He grabbed a key and grabbed my hand before I took a run for it. My foot turned slightly, trying to run for it, but his stupid hand was too fast.

His fingers gripped the key, turning it in the lock, before pushing the door open. The grip I had now put on his hand had gotten ten times more tight, finding his hand as a stress ball type thing. We both shuffled into the quiet home, Oli kicking off his shoes before stepping more then a few feet into the house. Right by the door hung a sign 'Take off your shoes, or I'll hit ya :]'

Wonderful.