Look at who's back already! Thank you so much for your feedback as always. Twilight is still not mine! Wait, didn't I say the disclaimer applied throughout the story? And I keep repeating it anyway. Hope I didn't miss any errors in this chapter. I normally take more time editing, but when I finished, I was kinda excited to post.

"But love is blind and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit"

– William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice

Chapter SEVEN

Stranger Things

When Olivia came to, it took her a few moments to figure out where she was. The spacious bedroom around her looked lavish, even in the dim moonlight that peeked in through the windows. Having been on the road for a few weeks now she was no stranger to feeling a little disoriented from being in a new place every few days. Strangely though, she couldn't remember going to bed last night or even inspecting the entirety of the suite Demetri had insisted on booking for her. That was one of the things she would have to address when they talked. While she had to admit that she'd been in no condition to make another 5-hour journey that day, she felt very uncomfortable to have a virtual stranger accommodate her. It created a dependence that didn't sit well with her.

If she continued her road trip though, she would also have to decide whether they should keep travelling together. She had made it sound like she was firmly committed that this would be the last time they saw each other, but the thought weighed down heavily on her chest.

Without switching on the lamp on the bedside table, she sat up and crawled out of bed, wondering where she'd left her phone to check on the time. Before she got any further, however, there was something in the corner of her eye that caught her attention. Cautiously, she stepped closer to the window to get a better look at the dark figures in the garden behind the hotel. She couldn't see what they were doing but she instantaneously had a bad feeling about them. A dark, rotten aura hang in the air and as one of them turned around to face her she scrambled backwards until the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed.

Something was seriously off about these guys and she wasn't sure what to do. Without thinking she hurried out of the room and banged against Demetri's door. As creeped out as she'd been by him, there was the fuzzy feeling of safety that filled her when she was close to him. To her dismay, her calls and knocks went unanswered. As the young woman's panic hit its peak, she suddenly fell and hit the floor hard.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself on the floor, tangled up in a woollen blanket between the sofa and the coffee table, with sweaty palms and her rapid heartbeat reverberating in her ears.

The next day, as the sky began to lighten, the unease of the night hadn't fully worn off yet. It had been years since she'd experienced vivid dreams of this nature. With a groan, she dragged herself out of bed and went to find her water bottle that should still be by the sofa. She fished it out from a messy pile of a blanket and some throw pillows she'd created sometime between falling asleep and waking up on the floor.

A quick glance at her phone told her it was 7:06am. Unwilling to think about her weird dream and Demetri mysteriously knowing when she was in distress, she decided to get ready for the day. She wanted to stay busy for another hour or so, figuring it would be too rude to bang on his door this early when he'd checked on her in the middle of the night.

A look in the mirror also told her it would take a while until she got her hair under control. There was a reason she normally blow-dried it before she went to bed. 'At least it was dark last night when Demetri came to see you – Nope, wait, you don't care what he thinks of you, he's not dating material,' she reminded herself before getting her hairbrush and curling wand from her beauty case.

She put on her favourite Spotify radio channel, quickly washed her face and started to detangle her curls while she waited for her curling iron to heat up. It sure enough took her a while until she tamed the chaos on her head, the routine of it, however, calming her nerves immensely. After that was done, she brushed her teeth and put on a little bit of makeup, and got dressed. Then, she tidied up the mess around the coffee table, before she truly ran out of things to do.

Morning! Are you up? :) She texted and turned the TV on for some background noise while she waited for an answer. It didn't take long until her phone buzzed.

Good morning. I suppose an answer to this question is redundant now.

You fancy some breakfast then? Cause I'm starving. Now that she thought about it, she could have done with a real dinner last night. She'd been stuffing her face with churros and ice cream in the park, hardly what one would call a satisfying meal.

I'm not feeling well today I'm afraid. Just knock on my door, if you still wish to talk, but I won't be able to accompany you to breakfast. Her brows furrowed in worry at that text. From how little she knew of him, he was not the type to admit pain or discomfort easily. Whenever she'd been concerned about his wellbeing, he would reassure her that he was fine. Grabbing her key card from the slot by the door, she crossed the hall to check on her friend. They might not have been friends exactly, but she also didn't know an apt description for the confusing relationship that she had with him at the moment. He opened the door upon her soft knock and greeted her with a soft "Hello." The tenor of his voice warmed her up instantly.

"Hi!" she said, still concerned as she mustered him. He didn't look much different than normal, though she'd wondered about his extreme pallor and cold hands, even at pleasantly warm temperatures. A chronic condition perhaps? Behind him, she noticed, the room was darkened, thick velvet curtains blocking out the light. "I just thought, I'd come check on you. Is there anything I can get you at all?"

He smiled softly. "I do not think so, cara. I will probably do better in a few hours, though."

"Okay," she breathed, unsure of what else to say. She figured that he would share what ailed him once he felt comfortable enough to do so, so decided not to press the matter while he seemed unwell. "Just, please, let me know if I can help you at all, yeah?" She couldn't explain the intense need to comfort him.

He nodded, thanking her, and reminded her that they could still speak later if she was open to it.

Given Demetri's ailment, Olivia decided to stay in town at least until he got better. Despite her promise that she would leave first thing in the morning she couldn't bring herself to abandon him in such a state. It didn't feel right. Instead she used the morning to run some errands, picking up some healthy snacks and post some postcards to pass her time. She might even go for a run.

Texting Demetri that she'd be back soon in case he needed anything, she hopped into the driver's seat of her rental and drove to a grocery store a few blocks away, she'd seen on their way back yesterday. She simply couldn't afford eating out all the time, so she purchased some fruit, a packed couscous salad with some roasted veggies, and some granola bars, as well as a few bottles of water.

As she absentmindedly strolled through the bakery aisle, indecisively looking at the cakes and pastries, she bumped into a woman causing her to drop a box of cereal, of which she'd seemed to be reading the label. Slightly embarrassed, she mumbled an apology in her broken Spanish, picked it up and handed it to her before turning around, pretending the caramel brownies were the most intriguing thing in the world.

"It's quite all right, sweetheart," the lady replied in perfectly fluent English, causing the young graduate to shoot her another glance. The woman, she guessed, was somewhere in her thirties, had straight, dark blonde hair that ran to her shoulders and she seemed to be a little sunburnt. Smiling awkwardly, she turned back around and walked back in the direction she came from.

"You should leave this place," the strange lady spoke up again, this time a little more hushed and urgent, freezing Olivia in her spot. Incredulously, she whipped around and stared at her with a questioning gaze.

"What?" she mouthed.

"You heard me, darling," the stranger insisted, "I don't wish to scare you, but you're not keeping good company right now. I really don't want that kind of life for you, Libby."

Only her aunt Liza called her that. It took Olivia a few moments to be able to speak again. "Who are you and how do you know who I am?"

She looked regretful. "I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you that. If you don't believe me, then please, listen to your instincts."

Weird. Olivia was frozen in place as she watched her leave. It took a moment for her to regain control over her body and walk towards the checkout tills. She almost felt like ever since meeting Demetri, she was attracting the weird. She'd felt that something was off when they got to the hotel last night, not entirely sure what it was. For the first time in years, she'd been plagued eerily real dreams. Now she went to buy some snacks and a stranger, who seemed to know her told her to stay away from Demetri? Had she been stalking them?

Although it may have been just a coincidence, something was telling her these things belonged to her mental list she'd started on everything off about her strange friend. With a sigh she made her way back to the hotel, no longer in the mood to explore. Who knew what she'd encounter next?

On the way to her suite, she couldn't help the longing gaze at Demetri's door. Listen to your instincts, the stranger's voice rang through her mind. Though, oddly enough, they didn't tell her to pack up and leave. She knew something was off about Demetri, she remembered the terror that went through her during their first meeting, the stalking across borders, and the evasive answers that set off inner warning bells. At the same time, though, something told her that he genuinely meant her no harm and she was drawn to him against better judgment.

She may have reasoned to not abandon him because he wasn't feeling well, but the truth was, she didn't want to leave. What was she to make of this debacle? She thought to skype Kate, seeing how she was doing and distracting herself from her thoughts, but she wasn't online right now, so she sent her a text instead.

When a soft knock on her door pulled Olivia out of her frantic musings, a small smile stole itself on her lips. She jumped out of her seat, grateful for the distraction.

"How do you always know when to show up?" she asked as she opened the door, revealing Demetri who seemed sleek and stylish as ever. A subtle smirk graced his face. "Are you feeling any better?"

His gaze softened a little at her concern. "Indeed. I heard you come in a while ago and thought you might wish to talk."

"Sure," she opened the door further and stepped aside to let him in, motioning towards the couch. Yes, she'd told him she wanted to talk last night and she did, indeed, but she needed to sort the chaos in her mind first.

"Are you all right?" he asked, giving her a critical look. "You seem rather frazzled."

"Yeah, sure," she said and although he didn't look convinced, he let it go for now. She collected her thoughts for a moment and settled on possibly the simplest talking point. "I guess we should start talking about what we're doing here exactly. I know you'll keep being secretive and all that," she effectively cut off his attempt to interrupt here with a slitting throat gesture, "but we can at least discuss the arrangements that you made. I don't feel comfortable at all with you paying for my hotel room. And I had planned to be on the road again since yesterday anyway."

"I have no expectations from you in return," he reminded her.

"Bullshit, if you're paying I'm relying on you financially and I don't like that."

"So, what are you proposing?" he asked cautiously.

"I should move on," she said firmly, although she'd miss him. The feeling was mutual it seemed. As she stared longingly in his hurtful orbs, she noticed something strange. Although the sun had slipped behind a bank of clouds now, the light from the window was falling onto his perfectly chiselled face, reflecting oddly from his eyes. Upon closer examination she noticed the rim of coloured contacts and even more strangely, she couldn't make out the colour underneath. It almost seemed like a dark maroon or reddish tint, though that didn't seem plausible to her.

Listen to your instincts, the lady's urgent voice echoed through her head again. Deciding not to comment on his contacts for and filing this new piece of information away with all the other weird things about her peculiar friend, she continued. "I do have a schedule for my travels and a reservation in Madrid at a hotel I can actually afford. I'm more than grateful for your attentiveness and it wouldn't have been save for me to drive all the way last night, but I'd feel more comfortable to pay for myself. I hardly know you and even if I did I'd rather split things evenly."

Demetri nodded in understanding. "Is this farewell for you? Or—" He trailed off, which was atypical of him. He was always so well composed.

Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat. It ought to be but it wasn't what she wanted. She told herself that it was her curiosity that fed into her longing to spend more time with him despite his words of warning the previous day. Despite that creepy encounter at the supermarket earlier. Despite better judgment. But telling herself would not make it so. She liked him.

She'd never been one to go for the bad boys, the delinquents, to express her rebellious side. She pursued what she wanted, which in the eyes of some may have been a rebellious act on its own.

"Can we talk about something else?" she evaded. Judging by the relief on his face, however, he was no stranger to inductive reasoning.

"About what?" he challenged.

"Eh, right, why did you act so weird last night? And don't you dare denying it!"

His eyebrows pinched together, although it was hardly noticeable to her. His answers, she'd realised, were always perfectly phrased and held another meaning she had yet to uncover. He was picking his words carefully. "I thought there was someone in the carpark who might cause us trouble, but it doesn't look like that currently."

"Cause us trouble?" She blanched. "You know, if you have any enemies or a crazy ex, now would be a good time to spill."

He looked torn. "My work may sometimes oblige me to do things that displease others. I made sure you were not in danger for that reason."

Again, an evasive answer. Where she'd been sure that she didn't want to part ways with him yet previously, this revelation made the whole idea somewhat more attractive. She stared at the black screen of the wall-mounted TV. It was Demetri, who first broke the silence with a pained look on his face.

"If you want me gone from your life, please say so. I care for you more than I anticipated and more than I can convey to you right now, but I will not force you into staying with me. I understand how frightening all of this sounds." He sounded desparate, though, silently beseeching her to stay.

She gulped, staring back into his sorrowful orbs. "That's part of the problem. Everything tells me that this is stupid and dangerous, but I don't want you gone. I'd miss you so much," she whispered the last part so quietly, but something told her that he heard it. The lump in her throat had suddenly doubled in size and her eyes stung painfully, although she refused to shed tears. She startled slightly at his touch on her shoulder, hesitant, silently asking for permission. When she leaned into his touch, he gently put his arm around her in a comforting manner and brought her closer until her head rested on his shoulder.

She let her eyes fall shut. His touch was so foreign, no one had muscles this firm, and he seemed to radiate no heat at all, but his proximity felt good nonetheless. Not to mention, he smelled heavenly, lulling her even further into the embrace.

They remained like that for a while until the subject of their conversation returned to her focus, sobering her up a little. She turned her head up to look at his face. He wasn't easy to read, though she felt with time she got more attuned to the subtleties in his expressions. "I know what you said about confidentiality yesterday but don't you think I have a right to know if I could be in danger?"

His eyelids dropped a little and he took a deep, controlled breath. "You do. I'm treading dangerous territory though. If my masters deemed that I broke confidentiality, I cannot protect you from them any longer."

'His masters? Creepy.'

"I am trying to be as honest as I can." She knew that. It was frustrating nonetheless. And downright terrifying. If the snippets he was giving her were already scaring her, how terrible was the truth that had him sworn to silence?

"You said yesterday, they'd have to ensure that I kept the secret. Would they send someone to kill me?" Her voice kept surprisingly steady as she spoke.

"There is another option," he said, notably not denying her question. Where was her survival instinct? Why wasn't she at the airport already? "You could join us."

"Join you—? The club you can't tell me about. And once I know that's basically my only option?" Suddenly cults like scientology sounded like a harmless book club. At least people had an idea of what was going on inside those.

He winced regretfully before confirming her question.

'Leave. Leave and never look back!' She wondered if there was an outgoing flight she could still get on today.

"Don't you have to go back to Italy at some point?" she asked, not wanting to talk about her own choices.

"Yes," he said grimly. "They are expecting me back soon. Even if they do not order me to return, it would displease them if I extended my leave inordinately."

"And how long would that be?" she asked carefully.

"Another week perhaps," he said, suddenly deep in thought. "I have never had the desire to take a long leave of absence. But I can be ordered back at any time."

Would it not be better to say goodbye now? Before they grew even more attached to each other? She reasoned internally, never arriving at a satisfying conclusion. Neither of them spoke for a long time. They just sat there in silence, enjoying each other's company.

"What kind of cologne are you using?" Olivia blurted out of the blue. "You smell so good."

He chuckled and shot her a knowing grin as if he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"What's so funny about this?"

Shaking his head, he replied cryptically. "Another trade secret, I'm afraid."

"Then I'm keeping that coat at least." If he couldn't divulge any state secrets, he could at least tell her the brand name. Or maybe it was like that fragrance the guy from Perfume created. She shuddered.

"It's yours," he retorted seriously.

"I was joking," she said, confused.

"You can keep it, though. You should actually," he insisted. "You have never given me a clear answer, however. Do you desire my company on your travels or not?"

"Yes, I want to spend more time with you."

"But?"

Her eyes stung again and she got dangerously close to crying as she saw the well-masked anguish in his face. "I'm scared. Not of you, but of what you're hiding. That cult or whatever it is—"

"Per—"

"No, let me finish," she disrupted. "You didn't deny that they could come after me and I'm not ready to join something I know nothing about. Truth be told, I'll miss you terribly when I leave. But if we keep spending time with each other, parting will be even more painful."

"You do not believe there is already something powerful that connects us? That we would have to break regardless?" His voice was a mere whisper now, their faces inches apart. His sweet, yet earthy scent enveloping her completely. She wanted to taste it. Without thinking she crossed the small space between them.

The kiss itself was gentle at first, innocent. His lips were firmer than hers, though lacked the odd, marble-like quality that the rest of his skin exhibited. She could feel his arms circling around her back and pulling her closer. They moved in perfect synchronicity, as if an invisible band had connected their souls.

'Shit! What are you doing?'

As she made a move to pull away, his grip around her loosened and she stared blankly into his eyes.

They were black.

AN: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think. :)

In case you don't know the novel Perfume. It's about a serial killer who made perfume out of his victims.

Also, I swear these two have a mind of their own. I hadn't planned this last part until at least next chapter! Anyways, next will be Demetri's POV again.