Love Addict’s RPG Vol. 2 Ch. 90

Sorry for the slight delay. When I made the announcement the other day, there was an unscheduled break day right after I posted it. The good news is that I’ve been feeling good. Like, really, really, really good. Still some residual brain fog but my god it’s so much better than a month ago.

I’m hoping the next chapter doesn’t take too long. I don’t think it will, honestly. I’m really in the zone and excited about the current scene.

I think this chapter is one of the cutest in the series so far, and I hope you all enjoy it!

***

Lunch only took a few minutes after they dug in. Zoe ate her remaining three pretzels in the time it took Oliver to finish his own, and by now, he was fully convinced that she had a promising future ahead of her as a competitive eater if streaming ever fizzled out. Oliver only hoped it never came to that. He'd heard horror stories about the hot dog stank that those people emanated and wanted no part of it.

They got up together to dump off their trays, then made a quick stop to wash their hands in the nearest restrooms. She stressed that it was really important, for whatever reason, and he saw no reason to argue. Zoe finished first and bought herself a 'lite' energy drink from the conveniently placed vending machine while waiting for him. Her mask was back on now, too.

"What, was your soda not enough to get you through the day?" Oliver asked.

"Please. It barely got me through ten minutes, and this diet crap or whatever's not much better. The only reason I'm even bothering is because we both know what'll happen if I don't have something to sip on. I can stop now, though, if you want me to crash in public?"

"I'm good, thanks. Do what you gotta do. I'm just happy you're still pacing yourself."

"Yeah, well..." Zoe grumbled something shyly under her breath in response, glancing sideways as she did.

Oliver didn't need to make out her words to know they were dismissive, just as he didn't need it pointed out that Zoe's guard was down. Another chance for shamelessness. With all the grace afforded to him by Fancy Footwork Lv. 1, Oliver slid into her personal space and picked up right where they left off. He looped their arms together and walked back into the food court with his not-so-inconspicuous piece of arm candy at his side.

Zoe was thrown for a loop by how casually he sold it. She gave Oliver a funny look, then sighed it off as not worth the hassle. Easier to just hug his arm instead of starting a back-and-forth over every little thing, and it's not like she minded.

She'd suggested it for a reason, after all.

"So," Oliver spoke up after approaching the mall's map installation. Failing to make sense of its sprawling nature, he found it easier to ask, "Which way's the arcade?"

"We have to kinda zigzag around like this," Zoe extended her finger and mapped out a lightning bolt-shaped path, "Then swirl by taking a left at Buy Amore Jewelers, followed by another left after we've hit PawShop."

"Cool. That doesn't sound at all convoluted. On a totally unrelated note, I'm thinking maybe you should take point on the Yellow Brick Road for us, Tinman."

"Tinman? Seriously, dude? C'mon. I know I've got my fair share of problems, but I ain't fuckin' heartless."

"I know you aren't, it's just that you don't fit the Cowardly Lion, and Mia's already, um-"

"Already the Scarecrow?" Zoe raised a brow and smirked as Oliver got quiet. "Heh. Go on, dude. Keep talking. I wanna hear you justify calling your girlfriend brainless."

"Hey, I was just making a stupid joke, okay? Mia's not brainless..."

"But?"

"But..." Oliver looked askance. "It's more that she's got terminal hentai brain. You know as well as I do that the poor thing's full of holes."

Zoe immediately chuckled, his silly joke paying off with a slight uptick.

[Zoe has gained +1 Affection! +1 Smooth Talker]

"You know what? Fair's fair, I'll give you that one." Zoe said, tugging him away from the big map. "Anything else you wanna add, Dorothy, or can we drop the metaphor and get the fuck on with our da... y. Our day, not date. Fuck."

Oliver dismissed the Freudian slip as low-hanging fruit. He'd rather shoot for something that hit harder. He just wasn't sure if he actually should, what with Zoe's thin skin and all that.

Then again, I wouldn't be giving her the full Oliver Chase experience if I held myself back, would I? He thought, taking a deep breath. Welp, a promise is a promise.

"For the record, you're not the Tinman because you're heartless. You're the Tinman because you're stiff, awkward, and desperately need someone to help oil you up."

Zoe suddenly became as stiff as Oliver claimed she was, causing him to halt in place. A lump formed in his throat that refused to go down as he looked her over. He couldn't make out her exact expression because of the mask and sunglasses, but he was sure her jaw dropped.

"Wha... w-what the FUCK is that even supposed to mean?!" Zoe yelped just a little too loud, earning them the attention of a few curious shoppers in the vicinity.

"Shit- nothing, it was just a stupid joke!" Oliver quickly covered his ass. "I didn't mean 'oil you up' like as a sex thing-"

"Uh-huh, right, my ass you didn't! What the fuck else was it supposed to mean?"

"I shouldn't have to explain the concept of double entendres, you make them all the time!"

"Whatever," Zoe huffed, then jabbed her finger into his pec. "Why don't you just tell me the truth, Olive? You're just dying to put your hands on me again, aren't you? Fuck's sake. I bet your perverted ass already bought some fuckin' baby oil."

"Zoe, what the heck. You gave me a whole entire speech about trusting you to handle my teasing not even five minutes ago."

"Yeah, and I kicked it off by warning I'm inconsistent as fuck and that we'd figure things out as we go along!"  

Oliver closed his eyes and rubbed them raw. He never would've imagined himself causing a public disturbance, yet here he was. Only he knew that Zoe wasn't actually mad. Everyone else saw a young couple having a spat, and that made him want to die of shame.

I know Zoe said she's feeling more sexually conscious, but all this over an innuendo? She's getting worse. I should probably ask her about it later today when we get back. In the meantime, I've gotta cool her off... and resist my urge ask to why she wants to hear how desperate I am to grope her again.

"Zoe, chill out for a second," Oliver spoke calmly, raising his palms. "Look around. You may notice you're currently doing a real shit job at keeping a low profile."

"Huh?" Zoe did as he said, taking stock of their surroundings.

Eyes, eyes, eyes, everywhere she looked. People stared, people glared, judged them, laughed, and she was pretty sure some stupid teen was filming them on her phone. Zoe gulped, her eyes lingering on the camera for a few seconds more than anything else. Knowing this moment was caught on film filled the girl with dread, among other, more confusing things.

Oliver watched the much taller girl shrink until she was about eye level with him. She retook his arm and shuffled forward as if trying to wash away the whole affair. He attempted not to laugh but failed pretty hard, chuckling and shaking his head at her as they walked away from the scene of the crime.

"Shut the fuck up, Olive..."

"Sorry. Can't help myself."

"Uh, yeah, I've fuckin' noticed."

"At least I'm not the one freaking out over the lamest sexual proposition of all time."

"So you admit it, then? You actually are propositioning me while hiding behind the 'it was just a joke' shit?"

"I really don't think I should answer that. Unless you're looking to test how quickly we can get kicked out?"

"I'll pass, thanks," Zoe groaned, then went quiet as her brain puttered along in total confusion.

She turtled up aside from an occasional side-eyed glance at the other mall goers, unable to believe she reacted the way she did. Oliver was right; she flipped out over a joke that was so lame she'd have made it herself a few days ago. It was embarrassing as hell- totally immature, even for her- and all Zoe wanted was to go and drown herself in that stupid fountain.

Anything to avoid grappling with everything else mixed in with her shame.

It would take them a few more minutes to walk all the way to the arcade, and Oliver wasn't about to let Zoe stew in her thoughts for too long. Not when she looked so defeated. Hoping to ground and comfort her, Oliver took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. Zoe did it back a second later, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

He supposed that was as good a sign as any to kick off another round of impromptu therapy.

"Everything okay?" Oliver asked.

"I think so?"

"What, not sure?"

"Yeah. I don't know, man. Lot of ups and downs these last couple of days, and it's got me all jumbled up. Overwhelmed."

"Well, it's a good thing you've got the undisputed champ of feeling overwhelmed to help you through it, then, isn't it?"

Zoe rolled her eyes and gave him a cheap laugh. "Damn, son. Not only the champ but the undisputed champ? You're talking a big game."

"I know, but I can back it up. The only problem is that it'll probably sound really edgy."

"How edgy are we talking?"

"Slightly less so if you give me a second to think of a better way to phrase it?"

She scoffed at him, squeezing her arm around his bicep and playfully smirking. "What's the point when we both already know I'll pity your sorry ass no matter how you spin it?"

"The point was to try and reduce the amount of cringe I'm polluting the world with, but-"

"Y'know that ship's sailed so far off into the horizon that there's already a fuckin' colony on the other side, right?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Oliver shrugged, determining Zoe had a point. "I'm saying I get where you're coming from since my brain's always scrambled from a constant combo of stress and anxiety. I'm honestly drawing a huge blank trying to think of a time I haven't felt at least somewhat overwhelmed. Off the top of my head, last Thursday morning's the only recent example I can come up with where I actually felt at peace."

"Really, dude?" Zoe looked at him after a brief pause, the aforementioned combo of stress and anxiety striking Oliver thanks to her questioning tone. "All that buildup, and that's what you hit me with? Not trying to downplay your struggle or whatever, but, like... is it really so easy to make a guy happy, or is Mia just that good with her hands?"

His scrambled brain caused Oliver to miss the implication for a good couple of seconds. His embarrassment tripled as soon as he got it, and he rushed to explain himself. "T-That wasn't what I was- I wasn't talking about that! I was talking about, like, waking up in the same bed as Mia! Not the-"

"Part where she jerked one out?"

"Yes," he sighed.

"Whatever you say, buddy. Whatever you say."

[Zoe has gained +1 Affection!]

Oliver internally grumbled at the slight bump. He'd take what he could get, of course, and it's not like Zoe finding him amusing was such a big deal or anything. He was only bothered by his inability to get his feelings across. He'd need to try harder.

"No, really. I'm being totally serious. Everything about that morning was so amazing that I don't even know where to begin. Opening my eyes to Mia's dark skin and messy hair lit up by the morning light, feeling the softness of her skin from the arm she draped around me, watching her gently stir as her chest rose and fell with every breath she-"

Zoe bristled the longer Oliver spoke. She tried letting him finish, really, she did, but her irritation proved more decisive than her decency. "Okay, okay. I get it, dude. I still love how cute you guys are, and it's great that you're so damn crazy for her, but you don't gotta go and fuckin' wax poetically on me. You're gonna make me hurl."

Her reaction stood out to Oliver, bringing to mind the other night when they retired to Mia's room and Zoe got huffy about being left alone. He found it just as cute as he did back then, if not more so since they'd only grown closer. This eased his worries, emboldened his assumptions, and reinforced his confidence enough to bring out more shamelessness.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" He teased.

"Dunno, do I detect a hint of wishful thinking?" Zoe parried.

"That you do," Oliver chuckled, countering the parry and pressing on. "In my defense, it's hard to help it when you get like this."

"...Dare I even ask what?"

"Supposing you did dare, 'adorable' would be your answer."

Zoe glanced at Oliver and scrunched her face in confusion. Getting complimented for her looks was nothing new, but she was fairly sure none of her fans had ever called her 'adorable' before. She kind of liked it. It was more personal, and not just because it came from someone in the real world.

Knowing he really felt that way about her made Zoe's chest tighten and her breath hitch for a split second before she forced herself to get over it. Oliver wasn't getting any points this time, smooth as he was. Zoe was more pissed at herself for being so easy than she was happy with him for fulfilling her need for attention in new and exciting ways.

"Whatever, nerd," she blew a dismissive raspberry, then nudged his rib. "We'll see how adorable you find me after I've completely and utterly trounced your ass at Ms. Pacman."

"You say that like I'm not looking forward to it," Oliver smirked. It'd take a lot more than being beaten at video games to change his mind about Zoe's cuteness. He was in far too deep by now, and any off-ramps he might've had were left in the dust long ago.

"That excited for another round of humiliation, huh? Geez. I'm starting to worry about you, Olive."

"It's appreciated, but unnecessary. It's not about winning or losing to me; it's about spending one-on-one time with you. We could go watch paint dry together, and I'd still find a way to have a good time."

"Right. On a totally unrelated note, my concern just spiked several times over."

"I'm a simple guy," he shrugged. "Simple things make me happy."

"Simple things like watching paint dry in the company of big-tittied gamer girls."

"That's pretty high up there, yeah. Maybe not quite as high as seeing the one place that actually tempted my reclusive friend out of her house for an afternoon, though."

Zoe had half a mind to admit all this was more for him than it was for her, but her other half beat up the traitorous one for daring to think such silly thoughts. There was no way she'd own up to the truth when it was so damn embarrassing.

"Just make sure to manage your expectations, my guy. It's just your average, run-of-the-mill arcade. Nothing special about it."

"It's special to you, though. Isn't it?"

"Something like that..." Zoe hesitated as their destination finally appeared off in the distance. Nostalgia pangs tore through her something fierce at the familiar sight, the unexpected sensation creeping up out of nowhere and loosening her lips. "I guess you could call it a safe space? It's where I'd always go whenever my headphones failed to block out the sweet fuckin' symphony of an unhappy marriage."

Oliver clammed up at the abrupt way Zoe broached the subject which long piqued his curiosity. He wasn't put off, stunned silent, or anything like that. He was only giving Zoe the space to continue if she had anything else to add.

Zoe failed to see it that way and scratched the back of her neck, feeling frazzled and down on herself. Vulnerability suited her like a sweater suited a dog. Adorable to look at, but you just know the poor thing hated every second of it.

"Fuck. My bad, dude. I didn't mean to randomly dump that shit on you, it just kinda slipped out. Sorry." Several seconds passed as her racing mind desperately sought a way to blow past the perceived awkwardness before she settled on old familiar- deflection. "Then again, maybe it's your fault? We have been spending a lotta time together, and you're always going around spilling your heart out left and right. You must be... um... y'know...?"

"Rubbing off on you?"

His phrasing and playful smirk reminded her of what it felt like to straddle his lap and grind against him, which was precisely why she'd stopped herself short. Zoe burned red, somehow slumping even further until she was nearly shorter than him. Her new perspective made her notice Oliver was blushing, too, despite having made the joke. This pleased her, and Zoe hoped in vain that it made him feel as awkward as it made her.

"Sorry, you know I had to go there," Oliver laughed. "Why're you freaking out about this, though? Is everything okay?"

"No, yeah, I just... I don't know, I try not to talk about this kinda shit. Every once in a while, I'll slip up on stream and say something stupid or edgy about my personal life, and whenever that happens, it feels like I just ripped massive ass in front of the whole world..."

"There had to have been a better way you could've phrased that."

[Zoe has lost -1 Affection!]

"The fuck do you take me for, some kinda poet? I play games and have fat fuckin' milkers, Olive." Zoe hissed. "I don't words good!"

Okay, I deserved that, Oliver gave himself a mental nutshot. I suppose I'll just be thankful she hasn't raised her voice again. To ensure that she kept it that way, he gave Zoe some space and took back his arm.

This was promptly vetoed. Zoe pulled him right back, squeezing the arm tight while glancing toward the middle distance. The arcade drew closer with every step.

"Get back here, dummy," Zoe sighed with all she had. "For the thousandth fuckin' time today, I'm sorry. I just... I got worried when you didn't say anything, okay? Like, really worried."

"Worried about what, exactly?"

"Oversharing, duh..."

"But I do that all the time," Oliver awkwardly laughed. "It's like my whole entire thing."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I should automatically assume you'd wanna be burdened with my bullshit..."

"She says whilst I dedicate a not-insignificant amount of my time towards straightening out her personal life."

"That's my fuckin' point. You're already doing a LOT for me. More than I can grapple with, and way more than I feel like I-"

"If the next word to come out of your mouth is 'deserve', I'm marching straight back to PawShop and picking up a spray bottle to squirt you with whenever your guilt complex starts acting up."

"I... I don't have a... w-what the fuck, dude? Save those kinda jokes for Mia- she's your pet, not me! Wait a sec, I know this is about. You just wanna see me in a wet T-shirt, don't you? Fuckin' perv. I'm onto your game!"

Oliver ignored the cheap misdirection as he observed Zoe. He saw so much of himself in her that Oliver wondered if Mia's preference for wild-haired, sharp-fanged anime boys was just an elaborate ruse to hide her actual type; hot messes. Not that the guy taking Zoe out on a pseudo-date had any room to talk.

"Keep telling yourself that," Oliver smiled, taking a chance on upping the casual intimacy. He wrapped his arm around her hip. Smoothly. Naturally, even. "And for the record, I do want to be burdened with your bullshit. Feel absolutely, one-hundred-percent free to trauma dump all over me as much or as little as you like."

It all happened so fast that Zoe barely even registered it before getting swept away by his words. Oliver kept getting handsier and handsier, yet he never flew too close to the sun. It didn't bother her that he'd taken a mile after she'd given him an inch. Not when everything felt so natural.

"I'll, uh... try and to keep that in mind, I guess," Zoe grumbled, her eyes glued to the floor. "You're saying you do actually want to learn more about me, though, right? I'm not misinterpreting, or being stupid, or... whatever the fuck?"

"Of course I do," Oliver laughed. "I've practically been dying for the chance. Was that not obvious?"

"Nothing's obvious lately, no thanks to you..." Zoe huffed under her breath, then shook her head. "Well, you had the perfect jumping-off point a minute ago. Why didn't you take it?"

"Because I know your parents are a touchy subject, and I didn't want to trigger any bad memories by asking loads of follow-up questions. I'm not jonesing for your troubled backstory so badly that I'd risk hurting you for a few breadcrumbs, silly. You'll either tell me these things when you're good and ready, or you won't at all. I'll be happy either way."

[Zoe has gained +3 Affection! +2 Smooth Talker]

Zoe's sunglasses drooped as she looked at her friend, and she felt all stupid inside upon seeing his gentle smile. Warm and fuzzy, too, but mostly stupid. God, how she hated her new normal- the pressure just kept on building up with nowhere to go.

'Fuckin' damn it, Olive! I just... ugh- fuck you, asshole! Fuck you for making me feel so... so comfy around you, and fuck me for falling so fast all this stupid shit!' Is what Zoe wanted to say. What she actually said was, "...Thanks, bro," and rather meekly, at that. When she saw him hold back a laugh, she forced herself to add, "For real, though. That means a lot, or, y'know, I... ugh- look, do I need to keep selling my sincerity, or can I shut the fuck up for now?"

"You can shut the fuck up for now," the laugh escaped Oliver. "Seeing as we've got games to play and tokens to buy."

"Huh? Oh. Shit." Zoe snapped to attention now that they stood outside Quarter's Up, and something in her gut rebelled against the sight. She took off her glasses and mask to get a better look.

"That's fuckin' weird. The sign's turned off, and it looks like all dusty and shit, too. Same with the windows." She couldn't tell if the interior was any worse off thanks to black curtains blocking the incoming light, but the vibes here were all out of whack. "Did you check beforehand to see if it's open?"

The question came with a concerning shift in Zoe's BGM. The track calmed so much that it barely sounded like the same song, and there were now some synth beats peppered throughout that rubbed Oliver the wrong way.

"It says they are," he said, pointing toward the schedule on the door. "Is everything okay, Zoe? You're looking kinda pale. More so than is the norm for your pasty, white ass, I mean."

The humor he'd thrown in fell flat. Zoe ignored him as she unlinked their arms and cocked her head, her expression tense as she continued staring. "I'm fine. Peachy, even, it's just that I've never seen the place looking so dire. The old dude who owned this place was always super on top of things, to put it fuckin' lightly."

"And to put it less lightly?"

"Guy's such a clean freak that he'd royally lose his shit if you spilled so much as a drop of Mountain Dew on his precious carpets."

"Damn. Sounds like a real hard ass." He suddenly realized why she'd been so insistent they washed their hands.

"Yeah, for real," Zoe's expression softened, as did her voice. Even her BGM reacquired some of its lost tempo. "Oh, fuck! Get this, Olive. I just remembered this one time when some ratty-ass skater dude came in baked out of his fuckin' gourd, right? Bro's hands were so covered in Cheeto dust you'd swear he thought the shit was soap, and the owner was in the back while this guy bought some tokens from the machine."

"Oh, no..." Oliver laughed, his heart soaring when she laughed back.

"Whatever you're imagining, it was worse. Way worse. I straight up thought the owner was gonna kill him, and that was before the pothead pissed his pants so bad it leaked all over the floor!"

"How do you do it, Zoe? How do you always manage to make everything about piss?" He shook his head, the corners of his mouth aching from how hard her story left him smiling. God, he loved the sound of this girl's voice and the silly, stupid things she said with it.

"What can I say? I'm consistent."

"Not the word I'd use to describe someone whose safe space is an arcade run by a murderous germaphobe."

"Heh. He's not that bad, I promise. I mean, yeah, he'll fucking kill you and hide the body for sticking gum under his arcade cabinets, but-"

"What could possibly justify a 'but' in that sentence after everything that came before it?" He joked.

"But he was always nice to me..." Zoe scratched the back of her neck, the nostalgic smile she adopted walloping Oliver so hard he almost hit the floor.

"Ah. Right, that'd do it. I'm sorry, Zoe."

"You're good," Zoe shrugged him off, her theme music growing dull once more. The busy mall seemed to darken around them as Zoe slowly but surely wound down from her stroll down memory lane. Her eyes glossed over the dusty windows again, and then the unlit sign.

Nobody said a word for a minute straight.

"We don't have to go in. Not if you don't want to."

"I know."

"Just say the word, and I'll take you home."

"I know you will."

"We can even play however much DokaDon Empire it'll take to make you never want to touch that fucking game again."

"...You're really sweet, Oliver. Too sweet. Like a scoop of fried ice cream that's been dipped in chocolate and then wrapped in a cocoon of an entire fuckin' industrial vat's worth of cotton candy. Honestly? You make me wanna hurl just about every time you open up your goddamn mouth."

[Zoe has gained +5 Affection! +3 Smooth Talker]

"It's probably my favorite thing about you, although your stupid face ain't that bad, either."

Oliver smiled at Zoe, and she smiled right back. Both their hearts raced as fast as if they'd eaten three solid servings of the diabetes explosion she'd just described.

"I'm flattered. Confused, but flattered. Would you care to elaborate?"

"Now who's fishing for compliments?" Zoe elbowed him in the ribs.

"A fellow attention whore," Oliver elbowed her back. "Humor me? C'mon. I'd love to hear what all you like about my face."

Zoe took a step forward and opened the door to Quarter's Up. She held it open for them, smirking at Oliver over her shoulder as she said, "All the adorable, goofy-ass expressions it'll make after I've made you my bitch at Ms. Pacman."

***

Stat Changes

Zoe Myers | Status: Friend(?) | 139/100 | ♡♡♡♡♡