Post-3x23. For Oliver’s birthday, Felicity takes him out for dinner, in spite of his protests. Thankfully, it seems he’s getting used to opening up to her.
Tagging (either because you asked, because you liked the previews or because you’ve shown up in my notes a few times so you seem to like my stuff? Again, just ask and I will stop tagging you): aboutwhimsicalhedgehog, smoakalllen, sherrynoconan, priya108, thebeckyford, olicitykisses, fuckyesolicity, scu11y22, olicitylovemaking, beautifulchaos-anumcara, sarcastic1515, bloodymortal, missyporcelain, secretglimpses, welcometotayvin, emilybeth11, fandomgirling, missroyrogers, xblondepiratesopheeex, sarmi95, mockdoc, littlemisslucky93, lovebeasunflowerhannie, dust2dust34, jennmarie93, doubledeez06, moomoosstudio, nikkibeckettcsm, imillionlights, melissapellegrino, 1022bridgetp, wazana, whimsical-sue, ruinsofangels, hate17, katiealmostdaily, kwilks14, sailorslayer3641, jessmecool, lhealey0, isawjess, walkerandbartowski, rosemariedavis, the-girl-wednesday, independentpics, felicitykhaleesi, alejandra1400, idreamindisneyandpink, musicxlovexshipper, jannief2001, fandomloo, lydiamarhtin, forwardreamingthinking, micahmusicod, islandgirlbabble, melolicity, olicity-snowbarry-jonsnow, jodygoroar, simplyfragile, justolicity
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The sun was shining brightly through the window, making Felicity squint as she tiptoed to see the mirror on the motel room wall. She was attempting to apply her eye pencil, but the combination of the blinding sun and where the only mirror in the room was positioned – so even when she was in her heels and tiptoeing she could not fully see her reflection – made it difficult.
She wished she could see herself in the mirror properly, if only to see if the dress she was wearing didn’t look completely outrageous. It was her black backless strappy dress with cutouts on the sides and a lower neckline than she usually wore. She’d only worn it once before, when she was in Central City, and even after everyone’s assurances, she still winced remembering how overdressed she felt next to everyone else in their jeans and sweatshirts. Felicity wondered now, once more, if it was too much, and she was in half a mind to change into something else when the door to the bathroom opened.
She smiled when she saw Oliver emerge from the bathroom, only wearing a towel around his waist, and she could see via the mirror that he quirked an eyebrow before smiling back.
“Whoa,” he said, making it to her in a few long strides and putting his arms around her from behind, “you look beautiful.”
“Mm,” she said, loving the feeling of his damp skin against hers. She moved her hair out of the way, over one shoulder, allowing him better access to the back of her neck. “Thanks. It isn’t… mmm… too much?”
His lips stilled for some reason. “No, of course not. Though I really don’t want –”
“I know you said you didn’t want a fuss,” Felicity interrupted, “but it’s your birthday. The least I can do is take you out to dinner.”
He let her go, and she turned round, trying not to feel worried. “Are you okay?” she asked, and she must have failed miserably at keeping the concern out of her voice because he immediately looked up.
“Yeah,” he said eventually. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“It’s just dinner,” she said, and she tried smiling. “If you want, you can totally see it as a second date instead of a birthday dinner. You know, since our first one went so spectacularly.”
She was relieved when he laughed at that, and she went to sit beside him on their bed. “Yeah, I guess that works.”
“Is there…” she started to say, but she was hesitating, and Oliver seemed to notice. He covered her hand with his.
“What is it?” he asked.
Encouraged, she tried again. “By all means tell me it’s none of my business, but is there… any particular reason you don’t want to celebrate? You know, besides the whole, you being on an island for five years and not knowing when it was?”
Oliver sighed. “Yeah. It just brings back… bad memories. And even if the memories are good, I just feel like – like I’m reminded of things I don’t want to think about. The people I’ve lost… the – relationships I’ve broken…”
“What do you mean?” She put her hand on his bicep, and he closed his eyes at her touch. It seemed to help.
“The last birthday I celebrated, really celebrated, was Tommy’s. And it wasn’t all bad… but I can just remember the bad parts. I can remember Malcolm coming… and then just a couple days later, I can remember Tommy’s face when I had to tell him who I was after the Triad tried to kill Malcolm, something I now know was my mother’s doing.” He laughed bitterly. “And my mother… she was killed by Slade right in front of me just a few days before my last birthday. Suffice it to say… I didn’t really feel like celebrating then either.”
“Oh my God,” Felicity breathed. “Oliver, I’m so sorry… I didn’t even think –”
He shook his head, cupping her cheek and silencing her with a kiss. “You have absolutely nothing to apologise for,” he said firmly.
“We don’t have to go,” she insisted. “Seriously, Oliver, we can just… stay in, do something else. Or not do anything at all.”
“Absolutely not. You already booked a table. And,” he added, looking her up and down before meeting her eyes, still holding her face with both his hands, “you’ve kind of changed my mind with that dress.”
Felicity laughed, comforted by the now familiar lightly teasing tone his voice took on whenever he said something flirtatious. “Want to know something funny?” she said, and he nodded, getting up to get dressed. “I was planning on wearing this to our second date anyway. When you first asked me out, I mean.”
“Yeah. But we technically didn’t even have a full first date. More like half of one. If that. Which kind of makes this date 1.5.” They both laughed, and she was glad they could joke about that at least. She watched as he pulled on his clothes, still smiling.
“Did you really have a first date worse than that?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in exasperation at the memory that sprang to her mind. “More than one, actually. I had one guy take me to a wine tasting, which could have been really fun, but he ended up getting so drunk he could barely pick himself up off the floor, so there was no chance I could have a decent conversation with him.” Felicity picked up her eye pencil again, considering. “To be honest, you did better than most in that department.”
“Oh? How do you mean?” he asked, and he was half-dressed now, only missing his shirt.
“Come on. You told me the colour of the pen I was chewing when we first met. I didn’t realise until then that you’re actually a romantic at heart.” This last was said fondly, and Oliver shrugged, smiling.
“I’m not really. I just have a good memory, that’s all.” His smile faded a little after a moment. “Sometimes I wish it wasn’t so good, to be honest.”
“Like I said, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she began, but he shook his head.
“I do want to.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
But for some reason, that made him smile more as he stepped towards her again. “I’m sure of one thing,” he murmured, running his finger down her cheek. Felicity found herself tilting her face up to his, smiling back.
He sighed contentedly. “I love you.”
And as usual when his lips were on hers, Felicity’s worries dissolved in his kiss, and they were forgotten in the laughter that ensued afterwards as she tried to rub her lipstick off his mouth.