The bar continued to buzz with liveliness as Petra and Oluo continued to sit in the cozy corner, their drinks untouched for the moment as they talked about everything from work to life outside the restaurant. Petra was feeling more comfortable than she had in weeks, enjoying the easy flow of conversation and the subtle warmth that had been growing between them all night.
But that feeling quickly shifted when a man from the other side of the bar, clearly a bit too tipsy, started making his way toward their table. Petra noticed him out of the corner of her eye but tried to ignore it, hoping he'd leave them alone. Oluo was mid-sentence when the guy stopped right beside their table, leaning in just a little too close to Petra for comfort.
"Hey there," the man slurred, his eyes scanning Petra with a smirk that made her stomach churn. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"
Petra shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Oluo to see his jaw tighten. "I'm here with my friend," she said firmly, trying to keep the situation calm. "Thanks, but I'm not interested."
The man, either oblivious or too drunk to care, didn't back off. He leaned even closer, his smirk widening. "Come on, don't be like that, cutie. I'm just trying to have a conversation. What's your name, my dear?"
Petra's discomfort turned to irritation, and before she could respond, Oluo stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he stepped between her and the man.
"You heard her," Oluo growled, his voice low and dangerous. "She's not interested. Back off."
The guy blinked, his smirk faltering for a moment before he squared his shoulders, clearly not willing to back down easily. He sized Oluo up, his alcohol-fueled confidence kicking in.
"Who the hell are you?" the guy sneered, glaring at Oluo. "Her boyfriend or something?"
Oluo's fists clenched at his sides, his usual sarcastic demeanor replaced by something much more serious. "Doesn't matter who I am. She said no, so leave her alone!"
Petra's heart was pounding in her chest. She could see the tension in Oluo's posture, and she knew this wasn't going to end well if it kept escalating.
"Oluo, drop it. Let's just go..." Petra whispered, standing up and trying to pull him away before things got out of hand. But it was too late.
The guy shoved Oluo back, his smirk returning. "You're not so tough, are ya?"
That was all it took.
Before Petra could stop him, Oluo lunged forward, swinging a fist at the guy's jaw. The punch landed, sending the man stumbling back into a nearby table, but it only seemed to rile him up more. He recovered quickly, glaring at Oluo with pure anger in his eyes.
"Oh, you're gonna regret that, you motherfucker!" the guy growled, wiping blood from his lip.
And then it all happened so fast.
The guy charged at Oluo, tackling him to the ground with a loud crash. Petra yelped, trying to pull them apart, but it was no use. Oluo swung again, but the guy was bigger, stronger, and definitely more used to brawls like this. He landed a punch squarely on Oluo's face, followed by another, and another.
People in the bar started to notice the commotion, some shouting for someone to break it up, but no one moved fast enough. Oluo was struggling, trying to get back on his feet, but the guy was relentless, landing punch after punch until Oluo was barely able to defend himself.
"Stop it!" Petra yelled, trying to get between them, but someone finally pulled the guy off Oluo before things got even worse. The man was dragged out of the bar by a couple of other patrons, still cursing and shouting, while Oluo lay on the floor, groaning and clutching his face.
Petra dropped to her knees beside him, her heart racing. "Oluo! Are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling with worry.
Oluo winced in pain, blood dripping from his split lip and his eye already starting to swell. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," he muttered, though he clearly wasn't.
Petra helped him sit up, her hands shaking as she tried to assess the damage. His face was a mess—bloodied and bruised—but at least he was still conscious.
"We need to get you to a doctor," she said, trying to keep her voice calm despite the panic bubbling inside her.
Oluo waved her off, trying to stand on his own. "It's not that bad, Petra. I've had worse than this."
But Petra wasn't having it. "No! You're going to the doctor, I don't care! Come on, I'm calling a cab."
Oluo didn't argue this time, too dazed and beaten to protest. As they waited for the cab, Petra couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt wash over her. This had happened because of her, because that guy wouldn't leave her alone. And Oluo, being the hothead that he was, had jumped in to defend her.
The cab ride was tense and quiet, with Oluo slumped against the seat, nursing his swollen face. Petra gave the driver directions to the only person she knew who could help on short notice—Dr. Grisha Jaeger, Eren's father. He was a respected doctor in town, and Petra had already met him a few times when he came to the restaurant to check in on Eren.
When they finally arrived at Grisha's clinic, Petra helped Oluo out of the cab and rushed him inside. The receptionist, seeing Oluo's state, quickly led them to a private room where Grisha appeared not long after.
"Petra? Oluo?" Grisha said, his expression a mix of concern and surprise. "What happened?"
Petra explained the situation quickly, leaving out the more embarrassing details about the fight. Grisha calmly nodded and gestured for Oluo to sit down on the exam table.
"I'll need to take a closer look," Grisha said, slipping on a pair of gloves. "It looks like you took quite a beating."
Oluo, still trying to play it cool despite the obvious pain, grunted in response. "Yeah, well... the other guy looks worse."
Grisha gave him a stern look but said nothing, focusing instead on checking the swelling around Oluo's eye. Petra stood nearby, biting her lip as she watched.
After a few minutes of examination, Grisha finally spoke. "You're lucky nothing's broken, but you've got a nasty bruise forming around your eye, and I'll need to clean up these cuts. You'll be sore for a few days, but luckily, it's nothing that won't heal with some rest."
Oluo nodded, wincing as Grisha began to clean the cuts on his face. Petra felt a wave of relief wash over her—he was going to be okay.
As Grisha worked, he glanced at Petra and gave her a reassuring smile. "You did the right thing bringing him here. He'll be fine."
Petra smiled back, grateful for Grisha's help. Once Oluo was patched up, Grisha gave him some instructions for care and a prescription for painkillers before leaving them alone in the room.
Oluo, still wincing as he stood up, glanced at Petra. "Thanks for... you know, dragging me here."
Petra shook her head, her expression softening. "You didn't give me much of a choice."
Oluo smirked, though it quickly turned into a grimace as the pain flared up again. "Guess not."
They stood there for a moment in the quiet of the clinic, the weight of everything that had happened settling between them. Petra felt a strange mix of emotions—relief that Oluo was okay, guilt for what had happened, and something else she couldn't quite name.
"I'm sorry," Oluo said after a moment, his voice unusually serious. "I shouldn't have lost it like that. I just... I couldn't stand that guy treating you like that. I can't stand assholes like that, drunk or not."
Petra stepped closer, her heart swelling at his words. "I know, Oluo. You were just trying to help," she said softly. "But next time, maybe don't get yourself beat up in the process."
Oluo chuckled, wincing again. "Alright, I'll try. But I can't promise anything."
They shared a quiet laugh, the tension from earlier finally easing. As they left the clinic and stepped back into the night, Petra couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude—for Oluo, for his loyalty, and for the fact that, no matter what, he had her back.