{ I can wait. ;3; Don't feel like I'm pressuring you or anything. }

When Oliver returned in the morning, he looked rough; his hair was a mess, he was covered in blood, and he was completely naked save for the shorts he'd stold from one of his... victims, in the morning. He was careful not to wake Nikki up; there was no way she could see him like this.

Sliding into the bathroom, he took a long shower, letting the hot water drown his worries. After about an hour, he walked back into the main room with a towel around his waist, and began to rifle through his bag. 

"Time to get up," he told Nikki quietly, back to her so he didn't have to face her just yet. Pulling an outfit out of his bag, he stretched out his arms and snuck a glance at her. She looked like she'd had a night almost as bad as his. Guilt gnawed at his insides. "Hey. You okay?" 

[[Noooo, I don't feel that way <3
I have to go practice piano though -.-
I be replyen l8. ... *Sucks at being ghetto* ]]

[[You still on?
Replying now.]]

Nikki only had maybe an half an hour to an hour of sleep. Before then, she found herself on a realization, even in her exhausted – yet, insomnia- state.
Why had Oliver left in the first place? His eyes portrayed urgency. Like something was wrong.
Maybe she shouldn’t have made such a big deal about something so small when something bigger was happening.
No. She wouldn’t blame any of this on herself. What she will be doing is forcing herself to hate him.
I could never hate him, though…
Was the last thought she had before finally having that half hour to hour of sleep.
Until, of course, the one guy that kept her awake at night, woke her up. She was lieing on her back and she knew she had bags under her eyes. Probably looked grotesque with her blood shot eyes as well. 
“Huh?”
She started, lifting herself up on her elbows. She stared at him for a moment, forgetting who he was. Realizing where she was – who she was with – she got up groggily and grabbed her bag.
“I’m fine.”
She said the lie while sighing before walking to the bathroom, taking her bag with her.
“Are you done in here?”
She asked, though she honestly didn’t care if he was done. She closed the door behind her, and locked it. ~~
[I just had to do this, *needed something to happen*… ]After taking a nice warm shower – where she stood there just to tell it running down her bare body for the pleasure for most of the time – she got out, wrapped a towel around her chest, having it go down to her knees. She bent down, reaching for her bag to get her clothes. Her stomach turned as she looked inside the bag franticly.  Finally, she admitted to herself.
She brought the wrong bag in the bathroom.
“Oliver…”
She said with a moaning tone as she leaned her forehead on the door. She lightly hit the door out of irritation. “I brought the wrong bag in the bathroom… Can you get the bag that has my clothes in it?”

Oliver, who had changed in the room while she showered, blinked. Normally he would have teased her and made some sort of remark, but he wasn't in his usual mood. He simply scooped up the bag beside his, deciding whether or not to check if it was the right one. What if she has tampons and stuff in there? Stifling the urge to throw the bag and back away, he walked over to the bathroom door, and knocked lightly.

"I've got your bag," he told her with a ghost of a smile, waiting for her to open the door. For some reason, he wanted to see her in just a towel, like she had seen him twice now. He knocked again, impatient as he usually was the day after the full moon. "Open up, Nikki,"  he said in a sing-song voice. "I'm not sure if this is actually it, because I didn't want to go in your stuff, but... um. Is it the blue one with the little hearts on it?"

Oliver sighed. 

That was odd. The whole reason she was irritated with asking Oliver for her bag, was because he usually had some remark that would make her want to hit him.
Maybe something really was wrong with him. 
Nikki sighed, now feeling defeated as her body went limp for a moment, leaning on the door. She felt that part of this was her fault.
Or, maybe even all of it.
What was it she said that made him act different? From what she recalled, she only said how she felt.
How he was hurting her.
Weren't you supposed to confront when you have problems? Nikki did that, so why was she feeling so horrible about it?
She put one arm around her chest as the other hand unlocked and pulled open the door just to show half of her.
"Thanks."
She started before holding out her hand.
"My bad."

Oliver pried his eyes away from her towel long enough to feel his cheeks heat up, his feverish eyes unfocused. "Oh. Uh. Yeah. Here's your bag." He handed it to her, but for a brief moment he didn't want to let go. Finally releasing his grip, he tucked his hands in his pockets. 

"So, um," he said, lost for words for once. Oliver wasn't feeling well, but he wouldn't admit it out loud. "I was thinking that we should go and get something to eat. I'm sure you must be hungry by now. You haven't eaten anything in a good 24 hours." He paused, turning red again. "Oh. Oh yeah, I'll just go over here and wait for you." Turning on his heel, he said half-heartedly, "Take your time."

He flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a wistful ex
pression on his face. 

His reaction stopped her cold. When was the last time Olivers cheeks were anywhere near red? When was the last time he stuttered?
 Usually he seemed much more confident in his composure and responses.
Something was deffinately wrong here.
"Right..."
She said suspiciously as she took the bag. While closing the door, she said,
"Yeah... I'm hungry. I guess we could."
She wasn't looking forward in eating with him though.
She closed the door and locked it out of habit. Though, even though she wasn't the happiest with Oliver, she trusted him well enough to know he wouldn't go so far as opening the door again.
She quickly changed into jeans and a long sleeve V kneck shirt. She grabbed her bags and went out of the bathroom. Only giving Oliver a glance, she threw both of her bags lazily on the ground where they were before.

Oliver, at first, readied himself to jump up and grab a fistful of cash. But an overwhelming headache kept him on his back, face scrunching up in discomfort. He couldn't take medication; his body would reject it, as werewolves healed on their own. Hopefully it would pass on its own. For now he'd hide it behind a smile.

Sitting up slowly, hair disheveled, he blinked slowly at her like he wasn't sure what he was seeing. For once, he was dressed for the weather; a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a tight-fitting brown long sleeved shirt. Granted, he should have brought a coat, but he didn't need one. Nikki did.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, getting onto his feet. Oliver grinned. "I'm in the mood for... well, I'm not sure what I'm in the mood for. But I'm starving." That was another clever lie; he had eaten his fill last night. Stuffing Lilly's necklace back into his bag, as he'd left it ontop last night, he glanced at Nikki. "Ready to leave?" 

Nikki had to brace herself to put on a face. Fine. If Oliver wanted to act like nothing happened last night, then fine. Just like when I left his house yesterday morning, after spending the night. He's been acting like nothing has happened.
Fine.
She'll play along.
But, she'll never forget anything he's said.
"Ready as I'll ever be..."
Nikki said with a shrug before lazily putting her damp hair up in a bun. Her hair looked decent enough natural, and since she chose to not try and look any better then natural for Oliver, then that meant she wasn't doing anything to catch his eye.
That meant nothing.
She was tempted to tell herself not to wear perfume either, but she didn't want to stink. That would just be going to far.
Nikki looked back at him after pulling some of her bangs from the pony tail.
"Actually, I'm with you. I don't really care where I go, as long as it's something I can eat."

"Alright," Oliver began quietly. "I thought I saw a Mexican restaraunt on our way here. Is that fine? It's food, after all." A smirk tugged at his lips playfully, his headache making him bl
ink rapidly a few times trying to clear it. He wasn't really in the mood for Mexican food, but it couldn't do any harm, could it? 

He opened the door, a cold gust of wind hitting him in the face. "I hope you brought a coat," he told Nikki with a frown. "It's chilly outside, and it seems to have snowed a little bit more." Glancing down at himself, he shrugged. He'd be fine. "Well. Food awaits. Let's go."

He trudged through the snow, which came to the top of his running shoes, and opened the door to his car carefully, watching Nikki before sitting down in the driver's seat. Oliver yawned, which wasn't a good sign, simply twisting the key in the ignition.  

Ironically, Mexican was her favorite. She could already smell the quesadillas...
Her stomach growled, as Oliver went outside, just at the thought of food.
But, before Nikki followed Oliver out side, she did grab a coat. But she refused to admit it was because Oliver warned her. Maybe her mother was right all these years. Maybe she was a bit stubborn...
As she slipped her arms through her sleeves, she closed the motel door behind her and walked through the snow to his car. She used the path Oliver already took so she didn't have to make a whole knew one.
She opened the passenger door, and slipped inside. After buckling her seat belt - with Olivers driving, she would always remember to have one on - she leaned back and closed her eyes. She didn't get any sleep last night, but atleast she slept a while on the ride to here.
It was odd how Nikki was becoming more effected by Oliver then the fact that they were running for her life.
Maybe she'd need to keep her thoughts in logic, and not in affection.

{ Skipping to when they get there~ }

Oliver watching her for a moment, hesitant to wake her up. She was so peaceful as she slept, and it seemed a shame to get her up. But he knew she was hungry. Touching her cheek with one hand, he smiled, the headache he'd had earlier nearly gone. "Good morning sunshine," he said. "It's time to get up."

He opened his door, pleased to see that there were only three or four people dining in the little Mexican Restaraunt. The less people that saw them, the better. It would be safer for everything.

Snow soaked through his shoes, making Oliver shiver slightly. The smell of spices and cooking meat wafted through the crisp winter air, making his stomach grumble. Perhaps he really was hungry after all. 

It felt that the second she fell asleep, she was awakened.
How many times has it been now, that Oliver has woken her up? She mentally noted to count later.
When he wasn't looking, she quickly wiped her cheek, again, refusing to enjoy the tingling from the touch.
Or what she heard.
"Fine..."
She grumbed before wiping her eyes tiredly and unbuckling. The second she opened the door, the mexican food's aroma filled her nose. Smiling, she got out and closed the door.
"Your sure you have money for all of this? The gas for the car, motel room, and now a restaraunt?"
She asked. She knew she asked something related to this before they even checked in a room in the motel, but she was just making sure. She was starving and tempted to buy half of what was on the menu, but she didn't want to waste his money on her.

"I've got plenty of money," Oliver reassured her carefully. "We've got nothing to worry about, as long as we don't start buying elephants and exotic furniture." Smiling at his own joke, he opened the door for her and waved for her to enter. "Ladies first."

His growing anxiety didn't help with much lately. He knew if he got too worked up over something he might trigger the part of his brain that controlled pure, undialated emotion and instinct. And then he'd go wolf on everyone and blood would fill the streets.

I have to be careful, he told himself as he walked in after her. There's no reason why I should get worked up anyways. If only I could have a smoke... that would help.... But he didn't want to light up in front of Nikki, as it wasn't something he was proud of. He sat down at a random table and smiled, picking up a menu laying there. "What are you getting?" he asked.

Nikki followed him to the door, and did a small "Thank You." for him holding the door. Maybe he was the moody one. Sometimes being sweet, and sometimes making Nikki wish he was dead.
She sat down at the table he chose to go to, and picked up her own menu.
"I'm thinking quesadilla's. But I 'dunno yet."
She said while glancing up once at him before going back to the menu. To her, it felt a little awkward with him still. But, she guessed it was just because she regretted what she said last night. He may just be the type to shrug those kinds of things off and completely forget about them.
Unlike girls. Who are known to hold grudges.
"What about you?"
She finally got herself to ask. She wouldn't be the one holding this grudge. If Oliver was to shrug it off, then she will too.

Oliver was lost in thought for a moment, and when he was dragged back into reality by Nikki's voice, the taste of blood and vomit filled his mouth. He set down his menu, glancing at it distastefully. "I uh, I think I'll just have a glass of water," he told her truthfully. "I'm not feeling up to eating much else. I had a rough night." 

The blood drained from his face momentarily; why did he say that? Now Nikki was going to ask him what he was up to. Would she think he was out with another girl? Of course not. She wasn't that shallow.... was she? He shook his head to rid himself of these troubling thoughts, feeling his pulse quicken. Relax.

"Quesadilla sounds good," he mumbled, trying to change the subject. "You should get that." 

As much as it aggravated her, she chose not to worry about what he first said. She was quite determined to have her mind off of that past... Feeling for him.
All he was doing, was helping her get away from those... Assassins? There was nothing else going on.
She refused to be nosy no matter how much she wanted to know what he was doing last night.
He did leave like it was something important last night. Something urgent. I shouldn't be worried about it. Maybe he just needed time by himself.
But, what if he was with a girl? I can just imagine what a 'rough night' meant...
She shook the thought off. Even if he was with someone, she will not be caring.
She reacted only with her eyebrows lifting suspicously in his direction. But after a shrug she went back to checking the menu casually.
"Yeah. I'll probably just have that."
She said. Trying her best to keep herself from asking what went on last night. Surprisingly, she was doing really well.