Oliver hisses on the edge of the pavement, a crooked slab of concrete that feels hard and uncomfortable underneath him. His car is just a few feet from him, the bonnet crumpled and the right indicator smashed into little glass shards, disappearing into the wiry bend of black metal. A furrow lines his sweat soaked brow, pooling with thin smudges of blood from when his skull had smacked into the glass window upon impact. It's not the really the car he's bothered about - he could just buy another one. Expensive model, and sure, he'd got some one of a kind modifications, but nothing he couldn't upgrade.

"Are you kidding?" He sneered, staring up at you with a bewildered, irritated expression. "Have you seen my car? You don't have even have a scratch, dollface. You and I both know you do not need to milk the insurance out of this."

Alright, sure. Oliver was the one who had ran the red light. And he was the one who had been speeding. Really, all of this was his fault, crashing into you at the junction, but your car was fine. You were fine. He'd taken the brunt of the impact, which was more than likely a slap of karma for breaking the laws of the road in the first place. Oliver could tell you didn't need this money - he recognised you from some fundraiser he'd attended a few months ago, so you surely weren't short for cash. He had seen the mischievous look in your eye when you veered the car onto the side of the pavement and stepped out.

"Listen," he started, his voice merging into a sharp sigh. He dabbed the minor blood on his brow with a cloth. "I'll call someone to tow my car. Pay for whatever minor repairs your car needs myself. Leave the insurance company out of it, yeah?"

Oliver clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth when he was met with your unimpressed stare. A hard egg to crack then, huh?

"I can have this swept under the rug faster than you can blink, dollface," he warned. "Save yourself the trouble."