13 | the best night, by par

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Alicia never wanted to leave.

She spent the next few hours pointing out the different constellations. Ursa Minor. Draco. Perseus. You could even see Jupiter, glowing brighter than any other star, fuzzy like a projector screen that hadn't been focused yet.

To his credit, Oliver was a patient student. He asked the occasional question, usually pertaining to the legend behind each constellation, but he was otherwise silent. It was only when Alicia stepped away from the telescope that he finally spoke.

"Percy Pig?"

Alicia blinked. Oliver was holding out a watermelon-coloured package with a small, cartoon pig on the front. She could see their soft pink bodies through the clear plastic window, and she shuddered.

"Oh, no," she said. "I hate those things."

His smile dropped. "You what?"

"Well, they're not very good, are they?" She scrunched up her nose. "It's like eating rubbery worms."

Oliver looked at her as if she'd suggested that kittens were ugly and unlovable, and that all of them should be drowned. He shook his head. "You know what? That's the first red flag."

"Over sweets?"

"Not just sweets." His voice was solemn. "The greatest sweets to ever exist on this planet. Hell, in the entire galaxy."

"You're kind of weird, aren't you?"

"Coming from the girl that hates Percy Pigs."

Alicia rolled her eyes, lying down on the floor. Oliver joined her. Overhead, the night sky existed in a fat, glimmering drop, like a single tear hanging on the end of an eyelash. She had the sudden feeling that if she stretched her hands up, her fingers would come away wet with black paint.

"Go on, then." Oliver popped a sweet in his mouth. "Are there any other red flags that I should know about?"

She stiffened. Oliver was teasing, obviously, but it didn't stop the images from coming. Greg. He was suddenly in the room with them, his suffocating Axe cologne snaking into the bookshelves, into the very cracks of the floorboards. Oliver must have noticed her tense, because his expression changed.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean..." He set down the sweets. "You don't have to tell me, obviously."

"No, it's okay."

"Seriously, Alicia, I shouldn't have pried."

She stared up at the stars. "His name is Greg. That's the red flag you should know about." She knotted her hands on her stomach. "He's an ex-boyfriend."

"Ah."

"We met in our last year of school in London. Well, I was in my last year; Greg was studying at King's College. I think I liked that at first, you know? That he was older than me. It made me feel protected."

Her heart was threatening to beat out of her ribcage. Oliver's eyes were July skies, steady and cloudless.

"Was it a bad break-up?"

"No." She swallowed. "The break-up was great, actually. It was the relationship that was the problem."

"He didn't treat you well?"

She focused on one glimmering star. "No. Yes. I don't know. Greg treated me like the best thing in the world, sometimes. He bought me flowers and bragged about me to all of his friends. But he never wanted to share me."

"It started with small things," she said. "Like, Greg checked my text messages when I was in the shower. And he asked me to turn my location on, so he'd know where I was on nights out. And then he didn't want me to go on nights out at all."

She traced the outline of the star with a finger. "I didn't see friends anymore. After a while, they gave up asking. My coursework took a turn for the worse." She gave him a small smile. "You probably didn't know that about me, actually; I was studying astrophysics, just like Mum, but I gave it up in March when I moved here."

"I would have done anything for Greg. We were always going to his parties and hanging out with his friends. He was really popular, and I was kind of toted around like a prize he'd won. I liked it at the time, but now..."

"That's why you hate it." Oliver's voice was soft. "Being in the spotlight."

Alicia paused, her hand hovering over the star. Well, no. Not quite. But she wasn't ready to tell Oliver about that part — at least, not yet.

"Probably." She pinched the star between her fingers. "Anyway, we moved in together. And at first, it was the best thing in the world. But Greg was..." She hesitated. "I mean, he had a temper. The littlest things would set him off. Leaving out my laundry for too long, or forgetting to buy something at the shop."

Alicia had apologized to him that day, for forgetting the milk, but what she really meant was, I'm sorry that I'm ugly. I'm sorry that I'm too loud, too thoughtless, too cold. I'm sorry that I'm not good enough for you. She had been shaking so much that she dropped a cup in the sink. The glass had taken ages to clean up.

Oliver took her hand. Their fingers looked almost ghostlike in the darkness, a splash of snow silhouetted against the stars.

"You don't have to tell me," he murmured.

"No, it's okay." She took a breath. "I want to."

"A few months ago, I broke up with him." The stars seemed to grow fuzzier. "It kind of happened out of nowhere. I was out for coffee with this guy from my course, and Greg saw us together. Greg was so quiet, all the way back to the flat. I kept asking if he was alright — I remember that — and he sat down on a kitchen chair."

"When I sat down on his lap, he kissed me. And then when I pulled away, he slapped me." She paused. "Actually, I'm not sure if that's the right word for it. He sort of patted my cheek, but harder."

"Alicia." Oliver's grip was tight. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright."

"No, it's not."

"No." She bit her cheek. "I guess you're right. It's not. Anyway, I didn't really know what to do. I guess I was crying, and Greg kept asking me why. He kept saying that he hadn't hit me. He was just being affectionate."

"So I packed my things and I left that night. And now I'm here." She looked up at their linked hands. "Anyway, that's why I swore off dating; I have issues trusting people." She gave him a wry smile. "In case you haven't already figured that out."

"You were running."

"I guess so." She turned to face him. "You can't plan for the future if you're still outrunning your past."

They lay in the stillness for a moment, staring up at the sky. She could hear their breath rising and falling in waves, wrapping around each other like two plants growing in the same pot. She hadn't told anyone that before — not all of it, anyway — but somehow, she wasn't afraid. Oliver's hand was warm in her own.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"Pushing you." Guilt punctuated his words. "I shouldn't have harassed you about going out with me. If I'd known—"

"No." She shifted to face him. "Don't apologize, please."

"You don't need to go out with me again."

"But that's the thing, Ollie." Her voice was smoke in the darkness. "I want to go out with you again; I want to go out with you a million more times. Sometimes I like you so much that it terrifies me."

Their breath rose, curling up into the night sky. Slowly, Oliver brought their joined hands to his face, his mouth whispering over her knuckles. "Look at me, Alicia." His eyes were blue pools. "I won't ever let anyone hurt you again. You know that, right?"

She shivered. "You can't promise that."

"Do you believe me?"

"I want to." She held his gaze. "I'm starting to. You've never lied to me before."

Oliver went very still. She could see a pulse jumping in his throat, and he let go of her hand, rolling into a seated position. His spine was curved like a bass clef. Slowly, she sat up too, her heartbeat picking up.

"Ollie?"

"It's getting late." His voice was hoarse. "We should go."

And with that, he stood, gathering up his coat.

The June night was drizzly. Alicia shivered as they stepped out into the brisk air, pulling Oliver's navy wool coat tighter around her shoulders. He turned to lock the door behind them, pushing his white sleeves up to his elbows. The yellow light cradled him in a fuzzy glow, like a bedside candle burning low.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

He nodded.

They walked down the hill in silence. Oliver's shoulder brushed her, but his mind seemed to be a dozen miles away, floating over the city of spires. She bit her lip.

She knew it wasn't about her. She knew that.

And yet.

"Ollie," she began. "About earlier. If I said something to—"

Her foot caught a rock.

She let out a yelp, stumbling slightly. Oliver's hand shot out. One moment, Alicia was tumbling through the darkness, and the next, her face was pressed against the white cotton of his shirt. His warm hands were splayed across her back.

"I— thanks."

"Are you alright?" he murmured.

She nodded. His thumb massaged circles across her back, but Oliver seemed entirely unaware of it. As if the limb didn't belong to him. And suddenly, Alicia couldn't stand it any longer. "Just tell me you're not angry with me."

He stilled. "Angry with you?"

"I don't know." Her voice was a whisper. "You wanted to leave so suddenly. I thought that maybe... I mean, after what I said about Greg..."

His face softened. "It's not that, Alicia." He cupped her face with gentle hands. "Please don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're waiting for me to hurt you." His voice was ragged. "It breaks my fucking heart."

Alicia half-closed her eyes. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. She could feel every rattling breath. Every heartbeat. He ran a thumb over her jaw, and she shivered, leaning into his touch. She tipped her face up.

He swallowed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Oliver bent down, slanting his mouth against hers. Electric sparks raced across her skin, igniting nerves that she had entirely forgotten about. He kissed her carefully. Almost reverently. It's okay, he seemed to say. I know that you're made of glass right now; I promise I won't break you.

She could smell the fresh rain stirring up the earth. He tasted like strawberry sweets and something else, a vanilla taste that she couldn't identify. His heart beat steadily under the palm of her hand, anchoring her.

And they stood like that, two shadows pressed close together in the rain, hidden from the yellow lights of the sleeping city.

Nearby, an older man crouched behind the observatory, his face illuminated by the glow of a display screen. He checked the picture, and then smiled to himself. His tip had panned out after all — there was no mistaking it. That was Oliver Hogarth.

Perfect.

A/N: Yikes! "Backstage Girl" readers will know that Oliver was once caught on camera in a compromising position with Ella outside a pub — the poor dude just can't catch a break these days.

What did you think of Alicia's big reveal? It's a pretty emotional chapter, but I'm happy that she and Oliver are finally opening up to one another (although Oliver still has some explaining to do about who he is!).

Affectionately,

J.K.

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