that's private!
“What the hell are you doing?”
Oliver looked up, book in his hands, a nearly guilty expression on his face. At the sight of her, however, he didn’t feel shame that he had been accidentally snooping. He felt enraged.
“What am I doing?” he asked, slamming the book shut and throwing it in her direction, making sure it hit the wall beside her with a loud thud. “What are you doing, Hayley?”
She glanced over at the book, long enough to realize which one it was, and sighed, loudly, shutting her eyes. She wondered how much he had read. Enough to make him angry, she guessed, and enough to not know how to explain herself.
Not that she needed to.
“I’m--”
“No,” he interrupted her, standing from the bed he had been sitting on and looking at her with bright eyes, filled with anger and a soft touch of betrayal. “You don’t get to talk. You don’t get to explain yourself. All you get to do is either pack your shit and leave.”
He already knew it wouldn’t happen. Jackson would never allow it.
“Oliver, calm down--”
“New meaning to sleeping with the enemy, yeah?” he asked, already regretting the words. Oliver had begun to trust Hayley. Had really begun to feel like she was on their side.
She sighed again, already tired of his yelling. “He isn’t my enemy and he’s not yours either. Hadn’t he shown you that? By saving Jackson?”
“Juliet saved Jackson,” he insisted, already knowing they wouldn’t have stood a chance if the original hadn’t been there. But still. Still. “You want to continuously be the plaything of Klaus Mikaelson, fine. Do what you will.”
Oliver moved to leave the room, leave Hayley behind, but before he could, she put her hand on his shoulder and stopped him. He turned to her, daring her to do more with a look, but her voice stayed calm and even, so unlike his.
“I am not a plaything, Oliver Latour. I am the mother of his child, and who I choose to sleep with is none of your fucking business. Not that you need to know, but that was over a month ago, before I came here, before I asked to live with you. You can’t see it, not in your state of mind, not in your mourning, but he has my best interests at heart. He has your best interests at heart.”
“You almost had me,” he laughed, carefully taking her hand off of him, “but that guy could give a shit whether my family and I die tomorrow or in ten years. And he won’t give a shit either when you die after your thing is born.”
The clear distinction between her and his family hurt more than her baby being called a thing. Even so, he was angry. He was distraught. Hayley gave him the benefit of the doubt and forgot the entire interaction. Oliver did not.
