Wax Figurine | T. Drake ✔

[45]

Tim could sense that she was worried about something.

She had been in a great mood that morning as they had spent most of their time hanging out with Nico and Steph but after they had come back home, her mood had changed.

She was slightly fidgety during dinner too and despite Jason's attempts to liven up the atmosphere with some jokes, she didn't relax at all. Cassandra had noticed that as well and when Olivia went to her room early, she gave Tim a look, asking what was wrong.

"I don't know," he replied, "she was fine in the morning."

"You talk to her," Cass suggested, "ask."

"She won't like it if I ask her about it," he remarked, by then having a clear sense of how she would react to anything and everything, "she hates being smothered with concern as well."

She paused, reanalyzing Olivia's body language that she had observed throughout dinner then spoke up, "she worried. Maybe scared too."

"Scared? But why?" He paused, thinking over the possibility Cass had brought up. 

But then he realized that she could be worried about meeting up with the neurosurgeon that week to discuss what should be done about her memory chips. So perhaps she was nervous about the whole ordeal but did not tell anyone.

She was still very accustomed to facing her problems on her own so she did not discuss anything with them, despite knowing that they would listen and offer to help. Perhaps that was why she was silently getting worried on her own even then.

"You know," Cass pointed out, seeing the look of realization cross his eyes.

"I think so," he stood up, "you're right. I will go talk to her."

Cass nodded in assurance, knowing he would ultimately sort things out. Out of all their siblings, she was closest to Tim because she felt despite his somewhat reserved facade, he was the most understanding out of them all.

"Best of luck, little brother," she told him and he smiled at the gesture. 

"Thanks, Cassie."

Tim went up to Olivia's room and knocked on the door, waiting for her to open it.

"Sorry, don't wanna talk. Very tired. Good night," her voice drifted out but she didn't open the door.

"Liv, it's me. Can I come in?"

She sighed softly, considering it but then opened the door, "okay."

Tim stepped in and closed the door after, turning to face her. He felt the same sort of unease radiating off her that he had felt back when he had found her alone in an unused classroom of Gotham High.

"Why are you here?" She asked when he didn't ask her anything although she had expected him to.

"Just because," he replied, sitting down on her bed and gently taking her hand, he made her sit beside him as well, "can I not come here to see you?"

"You can... But there was no need. Nothing is wrong," she blurted out, feeling more and more awkward when he still didn't say a word, his blue eyes only focused upon her.

"I didn't ask."

"I felt like you still wanted to know... I am fine, I am just tired," she remarked but it showed that she was tense as her words were pouring out in a frantic rush. Almost as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

"What can I do to make you less tired then?" He asked at last and she paused, still not understanding what he wanted right then.

"I... I don't know..."