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Noah felt justified enough to do this without telling Leonardo. For a number of reasons, starting with the fact that his name had been brought up without his understanding as to why.

This neighbor of Leonardo's. Oliver, Noah recalled his friend mentioning, preceding the brief, upsetting words, "a liar, she's not my friend."

Few words, but they seemed heavy. Noah had a lot of questions but one thing he knew for certain was that this "Oliver" had hurt Leo in some way, and that didn't sit well with him.

So Noah knocked on the stranger's door. His cheerfulness from greeting Leo just seconds ago had already dissipated.

"Who is it?"

Noah said nothing. If he spoke, there was a chance this person would react the same way they did yesterday and turn him away.

He knocked again.

This time, it opened.

Oliver, the same blonde girl from yesterday, opened the door just enough that she could see who had knocked, and straightaway she attempted to close it again.

Attempted.

She was stopped by Noah shoving his arm hastily into the door opening to prevent it from closing. And because of the force Oliver had used in trying to close it, Noah's arm was left with quite the physical shock. He couldn't hide it, either, as his reaction to the pain was instinctive and genuine, so much so that it sent Oliver into an immediate panic. This actually worked out in Noah's favor, he thought to himself. This person couldn't send him away now. At least not with immense guilt.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't expect you to put your arm there, I, I just-"

"I think you broke something."

He had only meant it as a joke, an exaggeration but it seemed to get through to Oliver on a more serious level. A mental battle appeared to rage in the girl's head for all of two seconds before she caved in and urged Noah to go into her apartment. Shutting the door in a hurry, breathing frantically, she gestured at the living room sofa as it was the nearest place to sit down.

"I'm so sorry, I'll take a look at your arm-"

"It's fine," Noah interrupted her. He rolled up his sleeve to inspect it himself. "I think you just bruised it."

Oliver didn't seem satisfied with that response. "Are you sure?? You said you might have broken something, I-I can take a look at it, I actually took an online course for bio-"

"Oliver, I didn't come here to play 'doctor-patient' with you, I'm here to interrogate you."

At the unexpected, sour tone of voice that came from Noah's mouth, the stranger withdrew herself with confusion, fear, and dread all mixed into those eyes which hesitated to look back at him.

"Interrogate?" Oliver chuckled with apparent nervousness. She placed a hand on the back of her neck. "I...don't think I understand, why would you-"

"Don't play dumb, I know it's got something to do with you." Noah massaged the part of his arm that had been crushed by the door, wincing as pain once again shot through him. Oliver flinched.

"I'll get you ice for that, I'm so sorry, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry..."

"Stop apologizing."

"Here."

She was back in the blink of an eye, a small towel in hand, wrapped in cold, cold ice. Noah hated the feeling of anything cold against his skin but just as he had recommended for Savannah, he knew it was one of the best and simplest things for bruises. He sighed and accepted the towel and pressed it to his arm. "Thanks."

"No, I'm sorry-"

"Enough with the sorry's," Noah groaned, "you can start saying sorry when you tell me what you did to Leonardo."

"To-"

The accusation earned such an obvious reaction from the blonde. A twitch of the eye, the brow, and the lips, as well as an abrupt, downward movement of the head so as to hide her face from Noah.

"Don't deny that there's something," he said to Oliver, maintaining that low and solemn tone of his that demanded attention. "I spoke with him last night. I asked him if you two were friends, and if that's why you knew my name, but he, rather curtly I might add, called you a liar and ended the conversation."

Guilty silence. As Noah predicted.

"Now I don't know how much you know about me, Oliver, if it's just my name or much more than that, but in case you don't already know I'll tell you one thing, the most important thing, and that is that I don't tolerate people hurting Leo. Do I make myself clear?"

It wasn't just an act. It was precisely what prompted Noah to come here in the first place, which is why he managed to deliver these words with such conviction. Getting people to understand how much he cared about Leo had never been an issue. Especially ever since the incident back in high school when everything went downhill for that poor boy, and when Noah developed a deep-set hatred for 90% of the human race.

He didn't like the feeling. But he wouldn't make exceptions. Unless this person could clear things up in a legitimate and plausible way, she would just become one of many on Noah's list of potential threats.

However Noah did consider himself reasonable to an extent. He would hear Oliver out.

"It's all...it's all a big misunderstanding-"

"How so?" Noah quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. "Those are such cliché words so I hope you mean them."

"I do," Oliver blurted. "I swear I do, Noah-"

"Again with my name."

The blonde shut her mouth.

"I've never told you my name, yet you know it." Noah clenched his teeth as he held the iced towel against his throbbing arm. "You gotta start answering some questions here, pal. Did Leo tell you? Is that how you know? But he said you guys weren't friends. And you yelled at me yesterday, you didn't seem happy to see me at all, what was that about?"

He didn't consider the barrage of questions might overwhelm the girl, but soon he came to realize this as Oliver's hands reached up towards her face, visibly shaking.

"My bad, one at a time," Noah said quickly. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to help much. Without warning, Oliver stood up from the couch, made a hurried dash into the kitchen, and yanked out one of the counter's drawers to retrieve something.

Noah didn't move. But his mind jumped to conclusions.

"If I turn around and you've got a knife, I'll warn you now, Oliver, my sister took judo lessons before she decided to become a cook and I've learned a thing or two about self-defense."

Deep down he knew that wasn't what Oliver had gotten up to do. But at the same time, he hadn't a clue what the girl had gotten up to do. So in puzzlement Noah shifted slightly in his seat to peer into the kitchen.

Oliver had equipped herself with a sharp object—not a knife, though, but a mere thumb tack.

"Slamming my arm in the door wasn't enough for you?"

Again, just a joke. But the quivering of the blonde's lip and the severe change in her facial expression suggested something else was wrong.

"What's the tack for?"

Oliver didn't speak. In some sort of frenzied daze, the girl's trembling gaze flickered between the tack and her own hand in quite a concerning manner.

"...what...are you doing with-"

It happened in the beat of a heart. A rushed, forward movement of the arm, causing the sharp point of the tack to prick the fragile skin of this girl's index finger. Noah jumped involuntarily.

"What on earth is wrong with you??" He scolded, resting a hand over his chest. "Gave me a heart attack, what kind of reckless-"

He stopped mid-sentence at the realization Oliver was holding up her finger now, the one she had just forcefully pricked without a reason. Well, at least it seemed without a reason.

The tack had gone deep enough to draw blood.

Blue.

Noah felt his stomach churn. Mixed feelings, confusion, and more questions. It was incomprehensible. "You're...you're like Leo, then," he breathed. His eyes darted up towards Oliver's. "Does Leonardo know about this??"

Whether it had already been building up or if this question alone had triggered it, tears began to surface in Oliver's eyes and within seconds the girl had lost control. Her composure shattering like glass on concrete, knees collapsing as she fell to the floor just to hold her face in her hands. The newly acquired wound, albeit small, leaked and smeared blood onto her skin from that action.

Noah didn't know how to react. But he wanted to do something, felt obligated, almost, as in that moment he was reminded of Leo. Even more so when he heard Oliver begin to breathe unsteadily.

"H-hey, don't start hyperventilating on me now." Noah placed a tentative hand on Oliver's shoulder. "C'mon, relax, slow, deep breaths, you gotta stop crying, that's only going to make it more difficult. Can you hear me, Oliver? Let me know you can at least hear me."

A gradual nod that quickly turned into more resolute nodding.

"Good. Now sit up here on the couch until you calm down."

Oliver awkwardly got to her feet and allowed Noah to coax her into sitting down again. The sobbing had ceased, but the salty tears still marked up her face.

"You're a mess, aren't you?"

"I know." Oliver sniffled. She tried rubbing away the small amount of blood smeared on her cheek but by doing so spread it around even more.

Noah sighed deeply. "I'm conflicted," he said. "Don't know if I should wait till you get yourself together or ask you now while you're vulnerable. 'Cus you've got a lot of talking to do, Oliver..."

"But Noah I don't want to tell you."

The sadness, the desperation in Oliver's voice struck a chord in Noah's chest. "Even still," he said, "you gotta start somewhere. What exactly did you lie about to Leonardo? Why's he upset with you?"

"I've been his neighbor for a while," the blonde confessed, "but I never told him that I knew about his blood, or that I had a similar condition. I did eventually tell him," she went on to add, "but it wasn't until I lied about being someone else. I pretended to be someone else because I didn't want him knowing it was me, and he found out on his own..."

Noah jumped on the thought. "But why did you not want him knowing in the first pl-?"

"I don't deserve to have back what I lost, okay?!"

It shut Noah up in an instant. He stared unblinkingly at the girl.

"Not Leo, not you..."

"Oliver, you need to explain yourself right now."

"I don't want to!!"

"I'm never leaving then."

The determination in those words. Vivid. Impacting.

"Noah, please..."

"Tell me what you haven't told him, Oliver."

At this point, the battle had been won and they both knew it. Noah wouldn't move till he got the answers he wanted, and Oliver was in far too unstable a state to argue with him any longer.

"I don't deserve to have back what I lost."

Whispered this time. Noah kept quiet as Oliver once again got to her feet and started to walk away. Noah craned his neck to keep her in sight.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"To find it. I try burying it sometimes but it always shows up again."

Vagueness. Noah turned around and released a deep breath. 'It'...?

He pondered what Oliver could be referring to, but nothing seemed right. He had no idea what to think of any of this, what to make of any of this, he had so many unanswered questions in his head that he forgot entirely about the pain in his arm.

After some time Oliver finally came back.

With heavy steps, heavy, almost fearful steps, she walked towards the couch where Noah was waiting anxiously.

"What is it?"

There was something in Oliver's hand. Two somethings, it appeared. Thin, rectangular somethings.

"Photographs?"

She hesitated noticeably to extend her arm to Noah once she had reached the couch.

But Noah was tired of waiting and snatched them out of Oliver's grasp.

The photos....