"Please," she whispered again, standing in front of him, looking up at him with tears threatening to spill. "Do this one thing for me. Even if you don't ever do anything else, Oliver… Please just tell me."
Oliver felt his walls crumble. He was a goner the moment she stood that close, the moment her tears glistened in her blue eyes like fragile glass. How was he supposed to resist her like this?
Saying no to her right now means, depriving her of her right to her father or his belongings.
His lips pressed together as his mind fought with Jianna's warning, but in the end, his heart won. "Okay," he said softly, almost in defeat. "But you're only allowed to take one thing."
Athena's face lit up instantly, joy replacing the sadness in her eyes so quickly it made Oliver's chest clench again, in a good way actually. Without thinking, she jumped onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug.
Oliver froze, every muscle in his body locking as her soft body pressed against him fully.
"Thank you so much," Athena whispered against his neck, her warm breath brushing against his skin, making him shiver.
God help him. His throat tightened as heat rushed through his body. He felt himself growing uncomfortably aware of her pressing against him, her chest squishing against his torso, her weight settling so naturally like she belonged there. He cursed silently inside his head as he felt his little brother twitch, betraying him. His whole body felt hot, too hot, and worse, she didn't even know what she was doing to him.
He closed his eyes for a second, his jaw tightening as he tried to compose himself, but her body pressing hard against his wasn't making it easy at all.
Oliver's arms moved on instinct, catching her around the waist to steady her, but he almost regretted it immediately because now she was even closer, her soft body pressed against his firm chest.
Her laughter was soft, relieved, the kind that slipped out without her realizing it. She tightened her arms around his neck, still whispering, "Thank you so much, Oliver. You don't know how much this means to me."
Oliver's heart pounded violently in his chest, like it was trying to escape. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry as heat crawled up his neck. He wanted to tell her to get down, to put space between them before he lost his mind, but the words got stuck somewhere in his chest.
God, she didn't even know what she was doing to him. Her innocence was killing him. She was happy, smiling, pressing herself on him like it was the most natural thing in the world while he was fighting a war inside his body.
He let out a slow, shaky breath and gently tried to ease her back down, his large hands guiding her carefully so she wouldn't notice how tense he was. "Alright, Athena," he said softly, his voice a little rougher than usual. "That's enough, hm? You'll make me drop you." He forced a smile, hoping it would mask the storm inside him.
But Athena only laughed again, still holding onto him for another second longer before finally loosening her grip. Her feet touched the ground, but her hands lingered on his arms as she looked up at him with those bright blue eyes that always seemed to trap him.
Oliver looked away quickly, his jaw tightening, running a hand through his hair as if he needed air. He could still feel the imprint of her body against his, her warmth clinging to him, her breath against his neck. His entire body felt like it was on fire.
Athena, on the other hand, was completely unaware. She smiled like a child who had just gotten a wish granted, her eyes shining.
Oliver forced himself to meet her gaze, and his lips curved into a small smile despite the heat still burning through him. "You don't have to thank me. Just… don't lose that smile, alright?"
Her smile widened, making her look even more beautiful, and for a second, Oliver forgot how to breathe.
He quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain control of himself. "Come on," he muttered, picking up her bag again. "We should get going before I change my mind."
Athena giggled softly, brushing her hair behind her ear as she followed him. But Oliver's mind was in chaos. He kept walking forward, but his thoughts were stuck on that hug, on how dangerously close they had been, on how badly he had wanted to hold her just a little longer.
God, he was going to lose his sanity.
Oliver took her to a room… a particular room that had always been locked ever since she was little.
Athena's heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst right out of her chest. She had passed this room countless times in the house, always wondering what was inside, but she had never once been allowed near it.
Oliver stopped in front of the door, pulling out a bunch of keys from his pocket. Athena's eyes widened when she realized, those were Jianna's keys. Her breath hitched. He must have sneaked them out of her mother's room. Did she make him betray mom. She didn't intend to make him betray anyone or turn against anyone but her mother had always gotten her way, not this time, definitely not.
Her heart hammered even harder as she watched him try different keys one after another. Each time the lock didn't turn, her chest rose and fell with nervous anticipation. Then, with a soft click, the door unlocked.
Athena's heart skipped a beat.
Before pushing the door open, Oliver turned to her. His tall frame loomed over her smaller one, and his eyes softened, almost as if he was asking her one more time if this was what she wanted. "I'm not supposed to do this Athena," he said lowly, his voice carrying that rough edge that made her knees feel weak. Then his lips curved into a half-smile. "But damn… you're too irresistible."
Athena's face flushed red immediately. She bit down on her lip, looking away quickly, but the warmth spread across her cheeks no matter how hard she tried to hide it.
Oliver chuckled quietly at her reaction, his grin stretching wider. God, she was too cute. Too innocent. And that blush on her face, it made something stir in his chest he couldn't put into words.
He pushed the door open slowly.
The room was dark. A wave of dust-filled air slipped out as if the room had been sealed for ages. The faint scent of wood and old paper lingered.
Oliver reached for the switch on the wall, but before he flicked it on, Athena's small hand suddenly caught his wrist. "Wait," she whispered, her voice shaky.
Oliver looked down at her, his brows raising. "What is it?"
Athena swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on the crack of darkness beyond the half-opened door. "My heart… it feels like something's about to happen."
For a moment, silence wrapped around them, only the sound of their breathing filling the hallway.
Oliver's gaze softened. Without a word, he used his free hand to gently pat her head, brushing some of her white strands aside. "Nothing's going to happen," he assured her, his deep voice steady. "Not when I'm here."
Athena lifted her eyes to his face, and for a second, their eyes locked. Her heart skipped again, but this time not only from fear, but from him.
Oliver finally flicked the switch.
The room lit up slowly, revealing shelves, an old wooden chest in the corner, and a table covered in a thick layer of dust. Papers were scattered, framed pictures leaning against the walls, untouched for years.
Athena's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. She stepped in slowly, her fingers trembling as she reached out toward one of the shelves. Her father's scent although it was faint, but she felt it. She knew it.
Her vision blurred with tears, but a small smile tugged at her lips, then she gave a small laugh.
Oliver stayed behind her, watching silently. His chest tightened at the sight of her trembling shoulders, the way her small hands moved as if she was touching a ghost. He clenched his fists in his pockets, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms right then.
This was her moment. He wasn't going to ruin it with his little concerned.
Athena stepped into the room slowly, her eyes roaming over everything like she was stepping into another world. The air was heavy, filled with dust and silence, but for her, it was like her father's presence was there.
Her gaze landed on a frame lying face down on the table. Her trembling hand reached out and picked it up. She flipped it over, and her breath caught in her throat.
It was a photo. Her father's smile stared back at her, strong and warm, his arm around her as a little girl. She remembered the day, it was at the park. He had lifted her high on his shoulders, and she had laughed so hard that her cheeks hurt badly.
Tears slipped down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. Her lips trembled as her fingers brushed over his face in the photo. "Dad…" she whispered under her breath.
Her knees felt weak, but she forced herself to stand straight. She placed the frame back carefully as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.
Her eyes wandered again, and this time she noticed some clothes neatly folded on one of the shelves. Her hands shook as she touched them. They were his, his shirts, his jacket. The scent was faint, almost gone, but it was enough to make her chest tighten painfully.
Her throat closed up, and she hugged one of the shirts to her chest. For a moment, she stood there, clutching it, as she poured out all her years of agony and pain in the fabric.
Oliver stood silently behind her, his fists tightening in his pockets. His jaw clenched as he watched her small frame tremble with each breath. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but he couldn't bring himself to disturb her moment with her father.
Athena's eyes then landed on a wooden box tucked away in the corner. Something inside her stirred, her heart giving a hard, painful thump. She didn't know why, but her body moved before her mind caught up.
She walked toward it slowly, her steps heavy, each one feeling like it was pulling her into the past.
When she reached the box, she bent down. Her hands hovered over it, trembling violently. Her breath came out in shallow gasps, but she forced herself to lift the lid.
The moment it opened, her whole world froze.
Her father's clothes were inside. But not just any clothes. They were soaked in dried blood, stiff and darkened from time. The sight of them hit her like a punch to the stomach.
Her breath became heavy. She froze, staring at it, her vision blurring as her chest rose and fell in panic.
And then the memories came crashing in.
The blood.
The knife.
Her father lying on the ground, his body still warm but lifeless, blood spreading around him like a sea.
And the woman, her cold eyes, her hand gripping the knife, straddling him as if she owned his death.
Athena gasped sharply as she stood up. Her hand clutched her chest as her body began to shake uncontrollably. Her breaths came in short, choking gasps as if the air had been stolen from her lungs