crooked.
He trails off, silent until Oliver’s question. It’s then he can look up, and Leo meets his eyes with no hesitation. “Simply curious. From- From the way you speak. Love has to do with a lot of things, I find.”
oliver stares-- eyes half-lidded and ever so curious. he cocks his head tot he side at each new bit of information given, blinking as it all settles in his head. laughter. laughter bubbles from his lips-- innocent (but lined with an acidity that is entirely oliver cha in his glory). he lifts his hand to his head, adjusting the strands of hair on his head. tresses of brown fall in his gaze and oliver directs his attention to it-- studying his hair for a moment before returning back to leo.
“that’s a shame, i guess.” his tongue clicks, another bout of mocking laughter leaving him. “maybe she got bored. maybe she wasn’t a nice person. maybe she got hurt. who knows? she’s gone now, so i guess we’re never going to find out.” his shoulders lift in a shrug. “sohyun was nice, but. people come and then they go. people learn and then they forget. that’s just something we learn to live with.”
oh, how oliver wishes he had the ability to read minds-- to delve deep into someone’s thoughts and to see what makes them tick. the pallid features of leo’s appearance intrigues the bastard child, causing him to blink and raise his eyebrows curiously-- but leo is moving away, and oliver follows him without hesitation, eyes never leaving his form and smile never faltering from his face.
“she didn’t.” oliver answers simply, busying himself with his hands, toying with random papers and drawings over the male’s desk. fingers graze over sketches, tapping on the table as he lets the silence reign. a thought hits oliver, and he hums-- eyes rolling upwards in thought. he braces himself on the desk, hands pushes out and holding up his weight as he leans back comfortably. “you know...what if she didn’t leave of her own accord? what if she was forced? have you ever thought about that?” he returns his gaze to leo, his expression lacking his smile only to be replaced with a thoughtful, if now slightly bemused one. “ah. i guess you didn’t. you don’t seem to have too much interest in finding her. ah well. what’s in the past is in the past. you just might have had a horrid luck with women.”
oliver’s smile returns, brief and small. not callous-- that’s nice, though oliver knows he hadn’t meant it sweetly. he tosses the thought out the window, what’s done is done, and continues to observe the dress in his hands. it’s pretty, intricate. it’s something reminiscent to what his mother would have worn--
he swallows. inhales. jerks away from the cloth and turns his attention back to leo-- to distract him from the thoughts of skin peppered purple and lips swollen blue.
oliver’s eyes drop to the box the other has retrieved-- and he can only imagine what sort of gaudy item his family has asked for. he doesn’t want to take it, really-- maybe he’ll toss it in a waste bin on the way back home just to spite his family. how funny; a smile stretches on his face before it falters just moments after.
“anyone?” oliver questions softly. a sharp bark of laughter leaves, head dropping a bit. he stares at the ground, observes his shoes-- before his head lifts and there’s a smile but it’s hollow and empty and just the teeniest bit eerie. “i agree. it is a horrid thing. it’s not all sunshine and glamour like people glorify it to be. i find it irritating and useless.” and heartbreaking. oliver may never been in love before but he knows what love can feel like; and he hates it-- he hates the feeling of vulnerability. (but oliver is a child; and children love more passionately than anything else-- but their love is often spurred upon by selfishness and his is often of sinister intent.) “i don’t think anyone is quite put back together after it. it changes you-- often times not in the best way, i think.” one shoulder lifts ina shrug. “it’s-- poisonous. toxic.”
oliver’s hands pick at his skin, nails scraping at leftover bits on his fingers, scraping off fragments of flesh in his restlessness. he stares blankly at leo, a snort leaving him. “didn’t you know?” oliver sings-- lips curving into a grin. “curiosity killed the cat, leo.” he pauses, thoughtful. a hum leaves him, and he cocks his head to the side-- smile stretching-- but it isn’t kind, it isn’t sweet. it’s strange and weird and it’s borderline amusement mixed with malevolence.
“i ruin what i love.” he comments off-handedly. “i take and i take. i take and i destroy-- i think the closest i’ve gotten to love is lust and even that became disastrous.” reminded of that pretty college professor-- the reason behind his expulsion, of how enticing she had been and how easily she had fallen for his charm. and how quickly she had invaded into his life and how fast she had ruined hers. “i’ll be honest. i agree with what everyone has said. i don’t think i’m quite capable-- or if i am, my love isn’t a pretty one.” his smile sharpens, his eyes gleam. “my love is painful. my love is torturous. deadly-- destructive.”
another pause. a light laugh. “do you think your loved ones left you,” oliver murmurs, watching the other with a small smile, behind his hair and his eye lashes. “because you loved too much you suffocated them? because they felt like they were dying when they were with you?”
oliver wonders if that’s how his mother felt. in the last moments of her life-- did she feel like he was suffocating her with his care? is that why she begged for death so eagerly?
