You’d only met Oakley earlier that day but you seemed to be getting along pretty well even as he tried to hide the occasional moments when his gaze would linger on you a bit too long. But you were… getting along. He liked you a lot, actually; at least for someone he’d just met.

But, when everyone else went upstairs and the two of you were left alone in the room, a sudden silence set over you. You’d both been talking so comfortably a moment ago! So why was it suddenly so awkward? The only sound in the room was the gentle ticking from the clock on the far wall and Oakley occasionally clearing his throat or tapping his fingers on a surface.

He knew he should say something but what if you didn’t want him to? What if you didn’t like him or thought he was too much? No — he had to say something… but, god dammit, he’d never been good at small talk. He looked at you, quiet, just studying your ever movement. Then, eventually, your gazes met and he looked away again, swallowing.