A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 67: Do You Have Alcohol?

Chapter 67: Do You Have Alcohol?

Valentine did as he said and locked it.

Olive got on the bike and glanced at him. "Get on."

Reluctantly, Valentine climbed on the bike. He had never ridden on this thing before, only cars.

"Hold on tight. I don’t ride slowly," Olive abruptly said to him.

Valentine furrowed his brows. "Shouldn’t you slow down? You are not wearing a helmet."

"It doesn’t really matter." Olive brought the engine of the motorcycle to life.

Valentine quickly grabbed a hold of him and wrapped his arms around his belly as tightly as possible.

"Hey! I didn’t say you should hold me!" Olive immediately glowered at him.

"Huh? Where am I supposed to hold then?" Valentine appeared utterly confused.

Recalling that there were none, Olive groaned in annoyance. "Don’t hold too tight. I need to be able to breathe."

He lifted his feet off the ground. With one more puff of the engine, Olive rode off onto the road.

Valentine, who actually felt his soul flee his body at the speed Olive was riding at, gripped him way too tightly. "Can you please slow down? You are going too fast."

"Not happening!" Olive frowned at him. "And for freaking sake, release your grip a little bit! You’re suffocating me!" he shouted at him.

Valentine hurriedly lessened his hold, and his emerald eyes flickered furiously in a slight bit of fear.

Seeming to have arrived at his destination, Olive slowed down.

He rode into a compound with a tall moderate building and parked the bike. Valentine climbed down and took his helmet off.

"Is this...your house?" he asked.

Olive nodded as he got off the bike. "Yes. It’s not much, so don’t expect royal treatment." He took the helmet from him and hung it on the handlebar. "Let’s go."

Valentine followed behind him towards the door. Olive unlocked the door and quickly grabbed his phone, which started to ring in the pocket of his pants.

"Loui," he said as he answered the phone.

[Where are you? Aren’t you coming home?]

"No, not today. I will be back at five p.m. tomorrow," Olive replied.

[Olive, you’re okay, right?]

Olive wrinkled his brows, bewildered. "Yes, I am. Why are you sounding so apprehensive?"

[Oh, it’s nothing. I just want to make sure that you are okay, that is all. I mean, this is the first time since forever that you never came home. Wait, are you possibly mad about last time? But I agreed to go to brothels, so you don’t have to—]

"Loui! Relax! It is not what you are thinking. I am just staying at my private house. I will be back by five tomorrow, alright?" Olive rubbed his temple, stressed out.

[Okay] Loui’s voice from the other side of the phone was down to earth.

Olive took a deep breath and hung up. He shut the door and strolled into the living room to see Valentine, who had settled down on the sofa. He walked over and sat down on the opposite couch.

"How do you feel now?"

Valentine glanced at him. "I’m fine, Merci."

"So... when will you go home?" Olive inquired, not at all intending to let him stay over.

Valentine began to fidget with his fingers.

Seeing that he was in deep thought and hadn’t spoken for a while, Olive frowned.

"You’re not planning to stay over, are you?"

Valentine cleared his throat before inquiring awkwardly, "Do you... think that I can stay here till tomorrow?"

I knew it! Olive immediately glowered, heavily dissatisfied.

"No, you cannot! I don’t like people staying over at my house. I call it a private house for a reason. Guests are not allowed!" He declined, unwilling.

Valentine lowered his head, falling into a cynical state.

Olive scrunched his face. "Hey! What is with that sudden sombre mood?"

Valentine lifted his head to look at him. "I am sorry, but... I cannot go back home, at least not tonight. I will not be able to sleep in the morning if I do."

He shook his head.

"And may I ask why?" Olive arched his brow at him.

Valentine did not reply to him. He looked as though he wanted to talk, but perhaps he had no idea how to.

Olive rubbed his forehead and let out a soft breath. He began to tap his fingers on his chin, not sure if he should inquire about what was on his mind. Valentine, who noticed, raised his brows at him.

"Do you have something to ask?" he probed.

Olive squinted his eyes and looked away.

"Yes, but only if you will be fine with it."

"Go on." Valentine softly smiled.

Olive peered at him, quite surprised. He hesitated a bit before asking, "What happened to you back there?"

"Huh?" Valentine tilted his head, a bit perplexed.

Olive scratched his neck and proceeded to be a bit more specific. "I meant back at the restaurant."

"That woman was just a random customer who probably wanted to give you a love letter. Why did you push her away like that? And why did you also go into that sudden bizarre state?"

Valentine gazed at him for a few moments in silence. He dropped his head in a pessimistic manner. "I didn’t mean to. It was something I did in a moment of thought. A more suitable word would be intuitive. I really didn’t mean to hurt her."

"I don’t get it." Olive was baffled. "What made you yank her, and why did you go into that state? Do you perhaps have a traumatic experience that you recalled? Because it looked like you did."

Valentine raised his eyes and stared at him.

Olive could not understand why he was peering at him without saying a word.

"Valentine, what is going on with you?" His tone sounded as though he was concerned about him. It was softer than usual.

Valentine’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was a dry smile. "Do you have alcohol?"

Olive was not sure why he asked, but he nodded.

"I do."

"I’d like to have one," Valentine said.

Olive wanted to ask why, but he felt he shouldn’t, so he reluctantly stood up from the sofa and walked to the fridge to grab a cold bottle of alcohol. He returned to Valentine and gave him the bottle, along with a glass cup.

Then, as he sat down, he couldn’t help but ask, "Why are you taking alcohol again?"