Oliver and Rebecca were left alone in the room.
It would be one thing if they were sitting on chairs, but they were on the same bed—one lying down, the other sitting.
Oliver looked at the woman, wondering whether she truly didn't mind his presence or simply didn't have the courage to ask him to leave.
Or maybe she didn't just not mind, but actually wanted something to happen between them?
As he continued to wonder, the woman laid down again, resting her head on her raised arm, gazing toward him.
Oliver gave her a serious look.
"You know, you're provoking a wild lion?" said Oliver.
"Don't talk like I'm afraid of a wild lion. I actually like a wild lion," she replied.
"If I have to say it, I really admire anyone with power—especially if it's a man my age who's that talented. It's just satisfying to see a man like that, you know? They're the rarest kind of creature. I've traveled the world and only found one here."
Oliver: "..."
Whoosh!
