"That is quite possibly the ugliest sweater known to man."
Oliver’s eyebrow twitches in a way that suggests he agrees, but is determined not to admit it. “My sister bought this for me.”
“Have you done something to upset her, lately?” Felicity asks, frowning. “Because I’m pretty sure she’s pranking you. Thea has much better taste than–than that.”
He looks down at his sweater, brow furrowing like this option hadn’t occurred to him at all, and she just really can’t with him.
“You should take it off,” she says. “And I’m not just saying that because I want to see you shirtless, because let’s be honest, that happens often enough without my input. I just–I’m really offended by that sweater, Oliver. I’m offended a lot.”
“It’s a sweater,” he says mildly, but he’s already stripping it off, so she returns happily to her work.
(She also makes a mental note to find out what he did to upset Thea and help him fix it ASAP, because if she’s gone as far as sartorial revenge, it must be really bad this time. And they have enough enemies without adding Oliver’s frankly terrifying sister to the list.)