Your Warmth

They were lying on Olivia's bed.

Olivia's back was pressed on Oliver's chest, his chin rested on the top of her head, and his arms wrapped around her small waist. 

"Your hair smells like rice porridge..." Oliver muttered, causing Olivia to scoot away from him immediately. 

"Of course it does!" Olivia tried to hide the blush on her cheeks but to no avail. "I just cooked one, after all!"

But instead of giving a snarky reply, Oliver hummed sleepily. "It's nice..."

"What?"

"The rice porridge?"

"Yep," He nodded.

"You meant the one I cooked or my hair?"

He chuckled.

"Both," He admitted. "I like them both."

Olivia's blush intensified as she turned around to meet Oliver's gaze, only to see his eyes closed and a warm smile on his lips.

"Don't sleep on my bed!" Olivia nagged, shoving him off the bed, but he barely even moved from where he was lying.

"I'm not sleeping," He mumbled.

"Then what are you doing?!" 

Once again, Oliver pulled her closer, forcing Olivia's face on his chest. Against her own will, she inhaled deeply. He smelled like those strongly scented shower gel for men. 

The same ones with those typically peculiarly named scents because calling its fragrance what it truly is would be deemed "too feminine."

"Just... your warmth," Oliver spoke.

"What about my warmth?" Olivia probed, raising her chin to meet his gaze, but his eyes remained closed.

"I just got out of the shower, and it's cold."

"You didn't answer my question, but okay."

Oliver fluttered his eyelashes, revealing his deep blue eyes.

"You're so annoying, you know that?" He groaned, pressing her closer to his chest as if there was an existing space between them.

"And you don't make any sense." Olivia pointed out, her cheeks were still deeply flustered

This was the first time she had ever been in such close contact with the opposite gender! It was making her go mad! She would push him if she could, but no matter how much she tried to, he didn't budge at all.

"Sorry for springing on you out of nowhere," Oliver spoke, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. 

"I've noticed," Olivia's voice was muffled as her face was still buried in his chest. "I don't know you enough, Oliver. But I feel like you're not the type who would unannounced inside a girl's room and hug them without their permission."

"Oh!" Oliver finally pulled away, and Olivia immediately longed for the warmth of his body against hers. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hug you without asking first."

"None taken," She shook her head dismissively.

"Would you mind if I hug you?" Oliver asked.

She frowned. "Don't you think it's too late to ask now?" 

Oliver shrugged.

"At least I asked."

Olivia chuckled.

"Point taken."

"So..." Oliver drawled. "Do you?"

"I do mind," Olivia admitted, causing Oliver to sit up from the bed and was about to leave the room, but she pulled his hand to stop him. "Wait."

"What?" He grumbled, though there wasn't any hint of the snarkiness he usually used.

"My mom told me to never engage in any physical activity with a man unless we get married-"

"I guess you got your prudeness from your mom, huh?"

Olivia rolled her eyes and continued.

"--But you still haven't taken advantage of me for the twenty minutes since you entered this room, so I can judge that you're not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 type of person."

"Of course I won't, and of course I'm not!" Oliver scoffed. "I don't take advantage of defenseless women! Much more a woman who's not wearing a bra!"

"Y-y-you noticed?!" Olivia stammered.

"I've been hugging you for fifteen minutes, Olivia. Of course, I've noticed." Oliver deadpanned. "You're not exactly flat-chested--"

"Okay, I was planning to let you continue, but since you're a pervert..."

"Hey," Oliver literally whined. "I'm sorry, okay! But I promised that I didn't touch you inappropriately."

"I know." Olivia nodded. "I would have noticed if you did."

Oliver knitted his eyebrows together, pouting. It was such an adorable sight that Olivia couldn't help but sigh.

"Okay, you can hug me again." She conceded. "But tell me what's wrong and why you're acting out of character."

He nodded.

***

They were once again lying on the bed. This time, it was Olivia who had her arms around Oliver's body.

"My Mom used to cook for us," Oliver said.

Olivia looked up to see his face, only to see a distant expression on his face as he recalled his memories. However, she wasn't sure if it was fond or not.

"I don't think 𝘰𝘶𝘳 Mom's cooking was as good as your Mom's, but Mom did her best with basic meals such as fried eggs, pancakes, and other easy-to-cook food."

He paused as if contemplating if his own words were right.

"You know what, scratch that. She wasn't good at cooking. 𝘈𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭."

Oliver chuckled at the memory, and Olivia couldn't help but smile at how innocent his laughter sounded. It was much different from his usual arrogant self.

"But you know," He continued. "Even though she sucked at cooking big time, the only thing I could proudly say she was good at making was rice porridge. She used to cook it whenever Azure got sick, which happened often when he was a baby."

"Until she didn't?" Olivia asked.

"Until she didn't," Oliver nodded in affirmation. "I actually wonder if Azure wanted you to cook rice porridge because he remembered when Mom used to make it for him. But that seemed impossible since Mom stopped cooking when he was a toddler."

"May I ask why she stopped?" Olivia probed.

"Because Mom didn't want to be tempted to eat."

She knitted her eyebrows together.

"Do you mean that literally?"

He nodded again.

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence between them as if Oliver was hesitating whether he should tell her this.

"Fuck this," He swore. "Fine, I'll tell you."

Before Olivia could tell him not to force himself if he didn't want to share, Oliver dropped a bombshell. 

"My mom is a mistress while Azure and I are Dad's illegitimate children."