His friend was quiet for only a brief moment before sounding far more awake when she said, “I’m on my way.”
“T-thank y-you,” he stuttered, before hanging up. He slipped his phone into the pocket of his pajama bottoms, as that was all he was wearing. Ollie winced. He...hadn’t grabbed his messenger bag, which happened to have his purse inside.
So, yep…his wallet, containing his ID and credit cards, was back at his witch hunter boyfriend’s house…Good job, Ollie, he thought with disgust.
Angrily rubbing at his eyes, Ollie leaned his face against the cool glass and sighed. He stayed in that position, his tears never stopping, until the driver cleared his throat. “There’s the Cross Heritage Private Library. Though…they aren’t open…”
“I-I own it, so…” Ollie trailed off, and instead of continuing to awkwardly cry in the man’s car, he quickly got out, stepping back into the rain and cold without another word. He winced, hopping on one foot for a moment as he accidentally cut the bottom of his left on a small rock in the parking lot, but he ignored the pain in favor of hurrying to the door.
Shivering, and almost definitely bleeding, he stood there in the now-steady rain and stared at it, realizing he didn’t even have his keys.
“Fuck!” Ollie whimpered as his tears started falling faster. Crouching with a sob, he hugged his knees tight and took a few deep, struggling breaths, trying to calm down. After a brief moment of self-pity, disbelief, and perhaps a bit of self-disgust, he forced himself to stand back up and press the doorbell.
Ollie took one breath after another as he waited, frowning when minutes passed and no one answered. He rang it again, and when there was still no response, he angrily tugged on one of the door handles in frustration, and weakly called out, “Red!”
Ollie stumbled back when the door opened after a few desperate pulls, and he just barely managed to stop himself from falling on his ass.
After finding his footing, Ollie hurried inside. Closing the door behind him, his brow pulled in confusion when he found no one waiting for him.
“Red?” When the only answer was silence, he called out louder. “Red?!”
Was…his cat not home? But Red never went out without him… Ollie sagged. Or maybe he did and just never told him about it. But if Red wasn’t there…how had the door…
He rolled his eyes. Right…witch…why be shocked? He was a witch, so of course he could open a stupid door. Sniffling, he limped slightly up the steps, not caring that he was trailing water, mud, and a little blood in his wake.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Ollie hobbled around the circulation desk and grabbed the spare keys from the locked drawer, after retrieving the key to it from a different one. Setting the keys down, he sat in Jahla’s chair, pulled out wet wipes from a drawer and proceeded to clean his feet. After disinfecting the small cuts he'd found as best he could, and coating them witha hefty amount of Neosporin, Ollie covered them with a few bandaids and stood back up.
Keys in hand, Ollie headed up the stairs, calling out for Red on each floor, only to get the same response—silence.
Taking a shuddering breath, he rubbed more tears away when he reached the third floor, and tried to think rationally. Like, it was the middle of the night. “It’s fine. It’s early. Red is probably upstairs sleeping…”
But when Ollie got to his living quarters, searched every inch of them, and found no cat, a hard sob slipped out as he reached the bottom of the spiral staircase after checking the bedroom. “N-no, t-this is f-fine. I-it’s fine. He… He probably just went o-out. It’s n-not like Red l-left me behind, right?”
Ollie just… He just wanted to hug someone! Was that too much to ask?!
“P-Pumpkin! I-I’ll find Pumpkin!” He hurried into the secret library, where Pumpkin loved to stay, and loudly called out, “Pumpkin!” Ollie swallowed hard. “Pumpkin, come to Daddy!”
He stood there stiffly in the middle of the room, waiting for a soft meow, or even a brush of coldness, but nothing came.
Ollie’s breath stuttered for a moment, as more tears flooded his eyes, before he managed to choke out again, “P-Pumpkin?”
Alone… He was alone…completely alone…
Red glared ahead at nothing,irritated by the rain as he ran toward the library's front door. Of all the nights he could have chosen to try contacting Rowden again, he had to pick the onewith unplanned rain. And as the attempt had failed, it made his current drenched state even more infuriating.
Red had just reached the front door and was about to magically open one side when he looked back at the sound of a vehicle. He frowned on spotting Jahla’s blue Chevy Trax pulling to a sharp stop in front of the library.
His brow rose as she rushed toward him, blurting out, “What’s going on? Where is Ollie? Is he okay?!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Ollie called me, sounding upset.”
“I… He wasn’t here. He was with…” Red trailed off as worry began to creep in. Looking toward the door, he allowed his mind to reach out. “Shit!” he cursed as soon as he touched Ollie’s mind, and was hit with a wave of despair.
Throwing the doors open with a burst of untethered magic, he sprinted up the steps, and inside the library, Jahla trailing behind him. Red padded to a stop as he reached the top of the stairs, and spotted Ollie sitting on the floor in front of the circulation desk, his pajamas soaked through. His wet red hair hung down limply around his tear-stained face, as he shivered and stared blankly ahead, his eyes puffy and his nose red.
Ollie’s gaze suddenly flicked up to them, and his face crumpled as he let out a hiccupping sob. “I-I can’t find P-Pumpkin… Or…Annabel… A-and m-my boyfriend…my sweet and wonderful boyfriend…who has always treated me so well… He's a-a witch hunter who wants me d-dead!”
