CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Emerson was losing his friend, he knew it, Evident in the way Mason looked at him; something had changed. He felt it.
He didn’t want to lose his best friend, although he questioned if their relationship could even be called that anymore. Mason had always been there for him, though not completely understanding him, he still cared. Despite Mason sharing his father’s beliefs, Emerson valued their friendship. He also didn’t want to lose the unique connection he had with William, who made him feel like no one else could. He found himself in a rather unpleasant situation.
Emerson tossed in bed, staring into the darkness with closed blinds and the lights turned off. His body ached from intense training as he lay there in nothing but his underwear, enduring another sleepless night, lost in thought.
Emerson’s mind lingered on Mason’s reaction and how he hurt William, although he apologized after Mason and William reassured him it was okay, he still felt disarrayed. He grabbed his phone from the night stand the light harsh with his eyes, displaying it was 1:45 in the morning, he doubted William would be awake, yet he sought out William’s contact. His hand hovered over the call button, but thought rather of it, not wanting to disrupt William sleep, Emerson settled on leaving him a message.
Emerson (1:48am): I'm really sorry about Mason again. How is your face? Hope it doesn’t hurt anymore?
Mrs. Gray was displeased when she saw her son’s face, but with both William and Emerson’s convincing, they managed to reassure the frantic woman that her son was alright and didn’t need legal attention or medical care. After a long while, she calmed down and escorted her son into her car before driving off. Emerson watched the vehicle until it became a distant dot, feeling heavy-hearted as he drove home.
The rumbling of his stomach, distraught Emerson thought, upon arriving home his all so loving family were having dinner, exhausted and not wanting to sit through his father’s furious sermons, Emerson lied he had eaten out and swiftly disappeared into his room, avoiding the piercing gaze of Elvis and his ever-present shadow–Olivia–
Luck favored him as his father didn't dwell on the issue, focusing instead on more pressing matters concerning his other sons. Emerson thought for a fleeing moment why his head hadn’t been cracked open the moment his father laid eyes on him; it seems Elvis was still holding out on telling their father his newest discovery.
As Emerson's stomach grumbled again, he realized he needed to find food quickly. He made his way through the dark hallway, guided by the light from his phone, and eventually reached the kitchen. There, he searched for leftover food and comfortably ate whatever he could find in the silence.
While halfway through his late-night dinner, the lights suddenly flickered on, startling him. He quickly turned his head and saw Olivia standing at the entrance, holding an empty cup. Her revealing night dress caught his attention. The material of the dress was so thin, Emerson could see right through it, it hugged her body, displaying her curves and round breasts that were almost spilling from it. The length of the dress stopped at her inner thighs.
As they locked eyes, Emerson lost his appetite, and it was evident that Olivia couldn't hide her intense stare at him. "Why are you in the dark?" she asked softly, her voice breaking the silence. Emerson glanced at her but returned to his meal, still forcing food down his throat despite the lack of appetite.
After a while, he tensed as Olivia took a step forward. He tried to relax, willed himself to, but goosebumps formed on his skin as she walked past him to the fridge, retrieving a bottle of water. Of course, Emerson thought, his parents would always ask her to spend the night, and in his hunger induce state failed to consider this.
“Why didn’t you stay for dinner, if you’re this hungry?” she inquired once more.
Emerson chose to ignore her, hoping she would take the hint and leave.
She didn’t.
Instead, she moved closer to him, placing the cup and water bottle next to his plate and took the seat next to him.
Emerson immediately stood up, intending to leave, but she grabbed hold of his hand. “Wait!” she pleaded. Emerson’s eyes slowly crept to the hands that held his and rose to meet her gaze, but Olivia’s eyes were fixated on his body. He saw the movement of her throat as she swallowed, her tongue ever so slightly poking out to wet her bottom lips. Discomfort surge through him and he pulled his hand back with more force than intended, watching her stumble a bit. Ignoring her, he headed back to his room.
“I can help.” Her voice called out. His step faltered, and he turned to face her with confusion written all over his face. Before he could ask to clarify, she continued speaking. “Elvis told me that you needed help with…” she trailed off, her eyes dropping to the bulge that rested within his boxer she rose taking a slow step towards him.
“Elvis...” Emerson bit out anger clear in his voice.
“Don’t be mad at him…” Olivia’s voice softened as she stepped closer. “…he’s only trying to help; he cares about you a lot.” Emerson doubted that. Elvis cared for no one but himself. She took another step closer to him. “I know at this age... you might be confused as to…who…”
“Shut up.” Emerson whispered.
“...You don’t need him anymore.” Olivia finished.
To say Emerson was angry was an understatement, of course Elvis ran his big mouth to Olivia, and here he was wondering why his father was unaware of it.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Oh, but it is.” Olivia voice carried a sweet tone as she placed her hands on Emerson’s chest, mimicking what William had done earlier. However, instead of finding comfort in her touch, Emerson felt nothing but disgust and anger towards both Olivia and his older brother. He glared down at her pale hand. “I can help.”
“Not interested.” Emerson deadpanned. “Now get your filthy hands off me.” But Olivia made no such move. More like she had not heard a single word he said, so Emerson took a step back disconnecting her hand from his body, the reaction didn’t last though as Olivia took another step toward him, her dark eyes never leaving his.
She slowly took his palm, causing goosebumps to rise wherever she touched. Her touch was light as she placed his hand on her breast, squeezing tight. Emerson's breath caught in his throat. They were soft. He stared at his hand as if it were alien, swallowing hard before meeting her eyes again. He felt her nipples harden from his touch, and he instinctively tightened his grip.
Olivia barely held back her moan, taking in Emerson’s conflicted countenance she surges forward placing her soft lips on his.
Olivia’s lips were soft on his, moving in an almost gentle manner, as if she was scared, she would scare the boy away.
Emerson stood frozen as Olivia’s lips work on his, his heart beating very loudly. Olivia truly was beautiful, her body even more so, so why? Why did he feel…
Nothing.
Emerson felt nothing—no spark, no overwhelming sensation in the pit of his stomach, not even arousal. He didn't feel the need to deepen the kiss; it was nothing like what he had with William. And for a moment, just a moment, the voice reasoned with him about how it might be his fault for not feeling anything, when he could have a girl like Olivia.
She placed her hand once more on his body, dragging it slowly down, while she continued to kiss him. The moment her hands rested on his lower abdomen, seeking to enter his underwear, Emerson’s trance-like state was broken, and he pushed her off his body with so much force that she almost toppled over, his eyes wide.
“Emerson!” Elvis voiced hissed.
Olivia’s expression mirrored his, but hers were more of confusion. “What’s wrong?” She asked after gaining her bearing.
Emerson breath was labored, he glared at the floor, his thoughts were all jumble together and he couldn’t make sense of anything. Letting his head turn towards the sound of his name, Emerson spotted his older brother.
Upon seeing Elvis in the dark, likely observing their interaction, Emerson turned abruptly and headed straight to his room. His anger surged even higher, uncertain of his brother's true intentions, and wouldn't put it past Elvis to have influenced Olivia's behavior.
As he walked past Elvis, his brother grabbed his arm. "Emerso–"
"Fuck off, Elvis.” Emerson snapped, forcefully freeing his arm and walking away without a backward glance. He entered his room and made sure to lock the door before slumping onto his bed.
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