The pitter-patter of rain was quiet, co-existing softly with the slow, even breathing from the entangled bodies in the center of the bed. Blinking slowly, a blonde head shifted slightly from the chest of the second occupant. Felicity hummed quietly in contentment, before cracking one eye open to look at the clock on her bedside table. Finding the time unsatisfactory, she closed her eyes and lowered her head back onto its previous resting place.
"Felicity." Rough with sleep, Oliver's voice replaced the silence in the room sometime later.
"Mm?" The blonde hummed, eyes still closed, head resting on the billionaire's chest. The warm, soft cotton of his shirt pulled her back down to where sleep, like the archer's arms, had held her.
"What time is it?" His hands smoothed gently down her back through a thin layer of cotton; eyes still closed, legs still tangled with hers. She groaned, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
"Saturday." She mumbled, her words muffled. He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his body.
"I asked for the time." He rasped, combing his hands slowly through her hair; the silk running smoothly through his fingers. Her head remained in the crook of his neck.
"And I said Saturday. When normal people sleep in." Her words slurring, she gave in and succumbed to sleep again, Oliver's laughter shaking through her body.
"Oliver?" She blinked slowly, realizing that he was no longer in bed with her. She shivered; the bedding was less warm without him. He padded silently back into the room, setting two steaming cups on the table before sitting down in the center of the bed, pulling the petite blonde into his lap and wrapping the sheets around her. She smiled, tucking her head under his chin.
"Still cold?" He murmured, his arms wrapped around her. She shook her head, a gentle smile slipping onto her face. "Made you coffee." He grinned, handing her a mug. She wrapped her hands around the warmth, looking out the window to see the rain.
"Thought you could use some rest." The blonde looked up, wincing as she traced her thumb softly over the stitched-up gash on his forehead.
"You were right." He caught her hand and kissed it gently. He pressed his lips against hers. "You taste like coffee." Felicity's eyebrow shot up.
"I'm drinking...coffee." She held up the mug. "Honestly, what would you do without me?" She shook her head, grinning as he held her chin.
"I'd be lost and unhappy, Felicity." He laughed, capturing her lower lip. When she shot him a look of exasperation, he schooled his expression into one of remorse. "I would. I swear."
"Sure." She stated, her voice shot with sarcasm. "Incorrigible." She shook her head, suppressing a smile as she ducked her head under his chin again, leaning against his chest and slowly drinking her coffee. They sat in silence, in warmth, and in peace. After a long silence, the blonde spoke. "The skies are crying." Oliver looked down and stroked her hair.
"Not for me." He said, bringing the mug up to his mouth. She looked up at him, curious. After swallowing his coffee, he smiled at her. "The skies aren't crying for me. Nobody should cry for me. I'm the luckiest man alive."
"Are you?" She inquired, still slightly mystified.
"Yep. I have you." He said, simply, before looking out the window at the rain again.