greenhood: (Default)
[personal profile] greenhood


Share with me your thoughts, ideas, starters.

Date: 2016-08-25 04:27 am (UTC)
smoak: (i told you so)
From: [personal profile] smoak
If you were (and I'm not saying you are), you can tell me.

I can handle it.


[ Because if she wanted it to be her, that's also something she wasn't going to say. ]

Date: 2016-08-26 12:03 am (UTC)
smoak: (sigh)
From: [personal profile] smoak
[ How did they even get to this question. But she wants to answer. And yet for some reason, a little voice in the back of her head is telling her not to.

Felicity decides to ignore it. ]


No. I'm not ... ready for anything like that.

[ Damn it Oliver. She still loves you too much to move on. ]

Date: 2016-08-27 04:04 am (UTC)
smoak: (13 - Dxhmm4r)
From: [personal profile] smoak
[ She doesn't say anything for awhile. Maybe ten minutes later, she picks up her phone again, opening it back up to that one word back from Oliver.

She stares at the message she types back for a long time before pushing send. ]


Are you busy?

[ A second text comes shortly after. ]

Tonight

Date: 2016-08-27 04:47 am (UTC)
smoak: (on the phone)
From: [personal profile] smoak
[ Oh god no she's not suggesting that. In fact, she has no idea that she sounds like she's suggesting that. ]

Would you want to eat dinner together?

Date: 2016-08-28 02:37 am (UTC)
smoak: (phone)
From: [personal profile] smoak
Good.

I'll bring something to the ... office in 30 minutes.


[ Because Felicity knows better than to say Arrowcave in SMS. Anyone could hack that business. ]

And don't worry. It's take out. I'm not cooking.

Date: 2016-08-29 02:25 am (UTC)
smoak: (station)
From: [personal profile] smoak
[ It hurts, how much Felicity knows they shouldn't get back together and despite that, how much she wants to see him anyways.

By the time she gets there, a bag full of Chinese food in tow, she's already wondering if maybe she'd made a bad decision. She'd picked the Arrowcave because of its distinct lack of bedrooms, or beautiful views, or anything that could be considered romantic. But just by inviting Oliver, maybe she was torturing them both.

She has half a mind to press "L" and go back up the elevator when the doors pulled open and she sees him, and her lips curl into a smile. This might be a terrible idea, but she still lights up when she sees him. And it's too late to turn back now. ]


I brought Chinese. [ She lifts the bag up a little, to indicate that's what's inside, before coming over to join him and set the food down on the cleared-off table. ]

Date: 2016-08-30 12:45 am (UTC)
smoak: (you dork)
From: [personal profile] smoak
It feels like just yesterday that she'd left the ring on his table, even though by now, that was weeks ago. But every time she sees a glimpse of Oliver, there's still a twisty, painful feeling in her chest. And every time Felicity sees the way his eyes look at her, a huge part of her wants to try being them again.

But she'd ended it — she has to keep reminding herself — because deep down, Felicity doesn't believe that there can be an Oliver who doesn't keep secrets from her. And until he shows her otherwise, she can't risk letting him back in. They just- They just have to have dinner, as friends.

"Please," she says, smiling again, because yes a drink would be extremely welcome right now.

As he pours, Felicity tears open the staple that's keeping the top of the bag closed and pulls out two paper plates, followed by three containers. One was for the sweet and spicy sauce, another for the warm pancakes, and the final one was the Moo Shu Pork itself. His favorite.

"Sooo..." She's almost done giving them each a napkin and putting some plastic spoons and forks out on the table. "...I'm just curious. Who did you actually mean to send that text to?"

Date: 2016-09-20 03:24 am (UTC)
smoak: (you dork)
From: [personal profile] smoak
John was a good answer. A safe answer. Because Felicity knows that no matter what Oliver had meant to communicate in that text, John Diggle wasn’t someone he’d text to make fun of her, or complain about what a terrible person she was.

But even if he did do any of those things though, she couldn’t really blame him. Still, when she first got his misfire, it had hurt a little. It made her feel like he was moving on — to the point where he could make jokes about her — and Felicity knows that it’s devastatingly unfair and she had no right to feel that way, especially not when she was the one who broke up with him. But she still loves him. That part wasn’t going to change anytime soon. She still loves him and she’s not ready to see him move on.

Felicity’s fingers wrap around her glass and she takes a little sip before she pulls back her chair and sits. When he mentions trying to eat the food without plates, she laughs, leaving an amused smile on her face.

“Kind of reminds me … “ She glances up at him, realizing now that she shouldn’t just say the first thing that comes to mind, but she’s already started her sentence. “… of when we first moved to Ivy Town, and we tried to drink soup off of plates.”

Her mouth curls up into an empathetic pout. “It was a dark time for kitchenware.” They’d just moved in and the moving truck had been delayed. In terms of supplies, all they had that night was a pot, some cans of soup and a few plates. In retrospect, they probably should have just drank the soup straight out of the pot.

She looks at him, like somehow all in one glance she could communicate that she really does miss it. All of it. Him. Sitting next to him instead of across the table from him like she was doing now. It’s not something she means to say, but she can’t help but feel it.

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Oliver Queen

August 2016

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