A 2x15 Coliver Coda - ao3
“What do you think of this place?” Connor asks over breakfast the next morning.
Oliver squints at the phone that’s been shoved in his face. “What am I looking at?”
“An apartment. For Stanford,” Connor explains. “A few blocks off campus. It’s got a parking space, balcony, washer-dryer in the building. It’s a studio though, which could suck.” Leaning over Oliver’s shoulder, Connor swipes through the pictures. “But, I mean, it’s only a little smaller than this place and the rent’s okay. We could get some of those screen, room divider things if we want. And it’s–”
Oliver’s back straightens. “Isn’t this a little cart before the horse?”
“Maybe,” Connor shrugs. “But I should hear from them soon. And, I don’t know…” He looks down at the apartment pictures over Oliver’s shoulder for a second and, when he looks up again, his smile is almost blinding. “I just have a good feeling, I guess.”
Unsure of himself, Oliver nods once before handing the phone back. They continue eating in silence.
Oliver’s eggs are tasteless and the coffee makes him feel sick to his stomach but he finishes it all anyway.
A day later, a late spring freeze leaves frost on the windows of Oliver’s car. He starts it – cranking the heat up and getting the back defroster going – before digging the ice scrappers out of his trunk.
Oliver hands the spare one to Connor and grumbles, “Knew I jinxed it by putting these away.” Connor snorts but doesn’t say anything; he simply starts scraping the ice off the windows of the passenger’s side.
They get the windows mostly cleaned off and get in the car.
Warming his hands a bit on the heater, Connor smiles. “Just think. Another thing we won’t have to deal with in California.”
Oliver looks away and doesn’t respond. He just checks and rechecks his mirrors as he pulls out of the parking space and they drive to Annalise’s house in comfortable silence.
The following night, they’re watching a movie on the couch.
Just as the movie is starting to get good, Connor bolts up and starts digging in his pocket.
Oliver grabs another handful of popcorn. “Thought we said no phones.”
“It buzzed,” Connor mumbles as he pulls out his phone. “Could be Stanford.” He flips it over to check the screen and his shoulders sag. “It’s just Michaela.” Fingers flying over the screen, Connor shoots off a quick response then looks up at Oliver. “Why haven’t I heard from them yet?”
“Should you have heard by now?”
“Yeah.” Connor’s fingers fly over the screen again and Oliver can almost make out what Connor’s doing. Opening his email, checking and refreshing the inbox, checking the spam folder, checking other folders. “I mean, the site said that they start sending out stuff this week and…”
“The week’s not over,” Oliver points out.
“I suppose.” Tossing the phone down on the coffee table, Connor crosses his arms and slouches back in the couch, leaning into Oliver’s side. “Just should have heard by now.”
They watch the rest of the movie in silence.
The next day, Connor’s on the phone when Oliver opens the door to 303. Quietly setting his gym bag down, Oliver watches Connor pace on the other side of the apartment.
“I am saying that I never received that email,” Connor’s explaining on the phone. There’s a bite in his voice but he’s holding back the worst of it, trying to remain cordial and polite. “I know you’re saying it was sent. I’m saying that I never–”