Chapter 6

It was around the end of October that Miss Hughes stopped showing up after class to wait for Oliver. While Elio still saw them exchange a few occasional words in the Great Hall, whatever flirt had been going on between the two was over. Elio should have felt good about it, euphoric even. But he didn't. Because now he had to sit in class and watch her read excerpts from the book with an ice cold expression on her face. It was out of question who had dropped whom. Elio knew that Oliver probably wasn't even to blame. He'd only ever flirted back, as he did with everyone else.

As he did with everyone else…

If there was anything that succeeded in lowering Elio's expectations even more, then it was that small realization. Because as obsessed as he was with the art history teacher, Elio wasn't stupid. Seeing the disappointment on Miss Hughes face made it clear that Oliver was someone who inadvertently caused everybody to get their hopes up. Because he was someone who simply made everybody feel good around him. Of course Elio had known. He had known there was no chance for him. There were just too many things in the way. But watching Miss Hughes pout in Muggle studies and then Oliver flirt as usual with the others a class later made Elio reconsider his own euphoria in searching out the blonde's attention. What if he too spent too much time searching for things in his interactions with Oliver that weren't there? What if he too slipped from dreaming to actually hoping for something? He couldn't let that happen. He might have wished it was different, but his sense for self-preservation was higher than his stupid dreams.

So he did the only thing that made sense to him. He stopped staring, at least when Oliver was looking. He stopped participating in class and kept his answers short when Oliver wouldn't let off. He didn't stay after class to ask some more questions and most importantly, he spent his mornings reading in bed. If Oliver noticed, and of course he must have, he didn't say anything. The first few days he seemed confused as to Elio's sudden decrease in participation in class. But when all his attempts to involve him in discussions failed, he soon gave up.

It didn't change Elio's obsession with Oliver. Not one bit. He would still stare when Oliver wasn't watching. He would still day-dream about him in class. But he wouldn't lose himself in his feelings anymore. And while that was less joyful on the one hand, it also made him feel more in control of himself on the other.

That strategy worked out for exactly two weeks. Until one Sunday afternoon, when Elio was playing the piano alone in the music room, Oliver came to him. Elio wasn't really listening to what he was playing so he heard him the moment he stepped into the room. But he didn't turn around. The reflection in the window left no question as to who was leaning in the door and listening in on him. Elio kept playing for a few more minutes, then he stopped.

"Either come in or not, but close the door. There's a draught."

Elio's intention to sound rude didn't have the wanted effect, because a second later the door fell shut and Oliver walked over to him.

"What were you playing there?"

"Don't remember", Elio lied.

"Well, it sounded nice. Didn't know you could play the piano."

Elio kept his eyes firmly on the keys, but that got harder and harder when Oliver's hand moved into his view, elegantly gliding over the smooth surface of the piano like he was caressing something living.

"Where did you learn how to play like that?"

"I taught myself", Elio replied.

It was only a half-lie. He had had a few lessons with a teacher when he was a child, but that were just the basics. With his parents being so invested in the arts, they had given him the chance to learn several instruments, just to see which he liked best.

"Impressive", Oliver said. "So guitar, piano…anything else?"

"I tried Cello, but wasn't for me."

When he didn't add anything, Oliver nodded slowly.

"Did you ever…play on stage?"

"No."

"Well, it sounded good enough, maybe you should." Elio only shrugged indifferent and Oliver sighed. "Not much of a talker today, are you, Perlman?"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Elio challenged and finally looked up to meet Oliver's eye. He immediately regretted sounding so harsh when he watched Oliver's smile disappear.

"Maybe for a start what is going on with you?"

"Why do you think there's anything going on with me?"

"Come on, Perlman. You know what I'm talking about. You don't participate in class. You don't even answer the simplest questions anymore. You look like…something is bothering you."

Or someone, Elio thought. Oliver looked at him questionably when he didn't answer.

"So am I right?" He continued before Elio could come up with an excuse that didn't sound as harsh as his previous words. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know…I'm just…I'm just not in a good mood, that's all."

"Not in a good mood, huh?" Oliver repeated disbelievingly, but grinned. "Well, we can do something about that." Elio's eyes widened when Oliver extended his hand to him. "Come on."

"What?"

"Come on, get up. You need to get out of these walls. No wonder you're feeling down. Haven't seen you outside in weeks."

Elio didn't even have the chance to object, before Oliver had already pulled him to his feet. "I don't want to…" He tried to protest, when Oliver pushed him out of the classroom.

"Some fresh air and sunshine, that's exactly what you need right now."

"It's probably not even sunny outside", Elio grumbled, but still followed him.

It was sunny.

So sunny that half of the school was outside, lying in the grass or playing games, enjoying what was probably going to be the last warm day of the year. Oliver led him past their loud chatter and onto a small path by the lake, until the voices of the others were swallowed by the trees and they were all alone.

Alone with Oliver.

That was exactly what Elio had tried to avoid over the last weeks. And now here he was, walking side by side with the man he was obsessing over like the stereotypical teenager he'd never wanted to be.

"That better?" Oliver asked him after a while.

Elio shrugged. "Yeah."

Of course it was better. It was better than better and at the same time so much worse.

"So, you wanna tell me now what's gotten into you lately?"

"As I said, just…not in a good mood."

It sounded like a weak excuse even to his own ears, but Oliver let it slide.

"I guess Scotland takes some time getting used to after living in Italy, huh?" He changed the subject.

"Yeah…" Elio said, before giving himself a push. "But it's quite alright. Not as bad as everyone told me it would be."

"How long did you go to school in Italy?"

"Just two years. Before that I was in France for three years."

"Ah, Beauxbatons. Heard a lot about it. Even applied for an internship a few years back."

Elio looked up. "You did?"

"Yeah. They didn't take me though." He grinned. "Guess I shouldn't have said I was American."

"Their loss." Elio said before he could stop himself and Oliver chuckled.

"Indeed. So…France, Italy, now Scotland. Why are you travelling so much?"

"My father's a historian. He's been teaching in a lot of different universities. So we travel a lot."

"What kind of historian?"

"Greek and Romanian art archaeology."

Oliver stopped. "Wait, you mean…your father is…the Professor Perlman? The one who wrote the book about Greek art history?"

"You read it?" Elio asked surprised.

"Have I…have I read it?" Oliver laughed. "Of course I read it! It's the book about Greek art history! Everyone in the field knows it! Unbelievable! Perlman, of course! No wonder you know so much about art."

Elio smiled. "I learned from the best."

For a while they just walked in comfortable silence. The path below their feet led them deeper into the forest and away from the lake, until it made a big bow and ended at the water again. They came to a stop and Elio curiously looked around. The castle was so far away now that Elio could only see the very tops of the towers.

"It's nice here."

"See, what did I tell you?"

Oliver sat down in the grass and patted the space next to him. Elio didn't think long. He threw his jacket on the ground and sat down. For a moment there was a comfortable silence in which Elio let his eyes wander over the smooth surface of the dark water. Oliver had been right. It was good to escape the claustrophobic atmosphere of the stone walled corridors in the castle. It was good to finally feel the sun and the light wind on his skin again. But overall of course the best thing was being in the presence of Oliver again. Listening to his deep voice, his calm breaths, his laugh. Seeing him smile. Being with him.

Alone.

The longer he listened to Oliver talk, the further Elio felt his mind wander, until he wasn't listening at all anymore. He couldn't believe that they were actually here, just the two of them. That Oliver had actually taken him out here. It might have been Sunday, but didn't Oliver have other things to do? More important things? More important things than cheering up a depressed teenager and taking him out for a walk? Not that Elio would have felt like complaining. No, the exact opposite was the case. What he was contemplating was…was there something more to this? More than a teacher merely caring for a seemingly troubled student?

Oliver must have finally noticed his silent staring, because he stopped in the middle of his talking and looked at him amused.

"Am I boring you?"

Elio blinked. "No. No! Not at all, I was just…please, continue." He fumbled for his cigarettes. "You mind?"

"No."

Elio offered him one, but Oliver declined. Elio took a deep drag and waited for the nicotine to clear his thoughts.

"So, you want to become an art historian too?" Elio asked to get Oliver talking again.

"One day, maybe. If that's something one can become so easily." Oliver said. "For now I'm just travelling, reading, writing on my dissertation. So overall I'm studying. Just like you."

"What topic are you writing your dissertation on?"

"The Greek's philosophy of art. What?" He turned his head when Elio laughed.

"Nothing, it's just…that's definitely something my father knows a lot about."

"Yeah, it's impossible to write on that topic without referring to his works."

"Maybe you should meet him." Elio said, before he could stop himself. "I mean, you are in the same country after all."

Oliver chuckled. "Ah, I doubt that he would be interested in me. Not in the current stage of my career."

"Don't say that. My father's always interested in new input, no matter from whom. Actually he takes interns every summer when we're in Italy."

"You spend all your summers in Italy?" Oliver changed the subject. Elio took another drag from his cigarette and nodded.

"Every summer vacation, every Christmas. Since I was a child. Have you ever been to Italy?"

"A few times, yes. Rome of course, Napoli, Florence, Venice…"

"So basically every touristic city." Elio joked and Oliver chuckled.

"Yeah. Where do you usually stay?"

"Lombardy. We have a house close to Crema."

"Mh, guess I'll have to add that to my list then. Still got to visit so many places in Europe."

"I guess it's quite different to America?"

"Yeah, absolutely. I always considered New York to be too contemporary when it comes to art. Europe is…like having the chance to actually touch art."

"So you live in New York?"

"Born and raised."

"What's it like?"

"New York? Beautiful and dreadful at the same time. I've never seen so many people in one place."

Elio listened intently as Oliver started to describe his life in New York. Everything Oliver said made Elio want to go and see the places he was talking about. Maybe it was something in the way Oliver spoke. With genuine affection and enthusiasm. Elio kept his eyes on the horizon, where the sun slowly crept to its highest point. When he looked back at Oliver, the blonde had leaned back in the grass and had closed his eyes. He was still talking, but there was something more relaxed about his face. Something peaceful. And Elio found that he couldn't take his eyes from it.

For the first time he could really look at Oliver, without being afraid of being caught. His gaze wandered over the long lines of Oliver's outstretched body. His long legs, crossed at the ankles. His long arms folded behind his head. Now that he wasn't standing, he didn't look as towering and intimidating as usually. He just looked… beautiful. The sunlight made his skin appear warm and soft and Elio could feel the urge to reach out and touch. To rake his hand through Oliver's blonde hair. To slide his fingers down the side of his face and to his lips, so he could feel him smile against his fingertips. Elio's eyes wandered lower, to Oliver's chest, where his unbuttoned shirt revealed a soft pattern of dark hair. How could someone be so beautiful? So perfect?

Just staring at Oliver made Elio's heart flutter. The need to reach out and touch Oliver seemed to grow with each second, until it felt nearly unbearable. Until he feared he would at some point forget to hold back and actually reach out. Elio exhaled heavily. His head was swimming with forbidden images that only got stronger the longer he looked.

"I can feel you staring, you know", Oliver said and cracked one of his eyes open. Elio felt his face heat up and he quickly adverted his gaze.

"Was listening."

"I didn't say anything. Not in the last minute at least. What were you thinking about?"

"I was…imagining what it would be like to…live in New York."

"New York, huh? Didn't think you would find it so interesting."

"Why wouldn't I? It's…an interesting city."

Oliver chuckled. "Yes it is." He sat up and searched for something in his bag. Elio watched from the corner of his eye as Oliver pulled out a couple of peaches. "Want one?"

Elio jerked his hands up just in time to catch the orange fruit that Oliver threw at him. "Where did you get them?"

"I don't know. Breakfast."

"Ah, those."

"Why?"

"They're not the good ones. The ones we grow in Italy are the best. These are no comparison."

Oliver threw him a sarcastic look. "Well, I don't have any other ones, Princess."

Elio rolled his eyes. "Shame, guess these will have to do then."

"Guess they will."

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you want to keep reading, you can find more chapters on archiveofourown as I'm more active on that platform :) Same title, same author name!