This had been the right play.
Oliver had taken account of all of her actions and cues. She had left her toothbrush in his bathroom the other week and bought a new one for her place.
Felicity was telling him that she was ready for the next step in her own way without telling him.
He needed to make a grand gesture. To show that he was in was in this for the long haul. To show her that he would always be her home.
She liked actions.
Actions spoke louder than words and he knew her feelings on charm. So he made the bold action to show her that he got her clues, that he wanted her in his life, because she was his home.
This had been the right move.
Her toothbrush was in his bathroom. And her hair care products. And her clothing was hanging in the closet and put away in drawers.
All the signs were there.
She needed a gesture. Something that showed permanence.
And he'd done it.
The ringing of his phone pulled him from his mental reassurances that this was what she wanted. Everything had pointed to her wanting this. Bring his phone up, Oliver saw her name and picture on his phone, he slid his thumb across the screen to answer before placing it to his ear.
"I've been robbed!" Was her greeting the moment their call connected. There was no tinge of hysteria to her voice, and he was going to take that as a good sign. Maybe she figured he'd do this.
"You sure?" He probed, hoping that she realized what he done because he didn't want her to be upset. He had figured she'd come home, to his place after work, then they could of talked. Felicity would have seen his actions and gotten an explanation all in one. Oliver was expecting a little push back. Felicity wasn't one who was a passive member in a relationship.
"None of my things are at my apartment!" She bit out at him and the sarcasm in her voice made him fight back a smile.
"They're at mine." Staying calm was the best. This was not going as originally planned. But her toothbrush was living in his bathroom cabinet. Next to his. He could read clues and pick up on context. He was a damn detective after all.
"Oliver, where are you?" There was an eerie calm that settled over her voice. He might have to grovel. Feeding her would be the best option, she did like to eat and he enjoyed cooking for her.
"Home."
"I'm heading over to kill you." He'd heat up the lasagna that he had been saving. She loved his lasagna. He'd also set the table real nice.
He'd explain, feed her, and grovel if need be.
Even though he was certain she had been telling him without telling him that she was ready to move into the loft.
"Looking forward to it." Disconnect.
Uncertainty surged through his veins, as his mind went over all the facts again. The conclusion was the same every time and it all stemmed from the toothbrush. But, oh god, what if he was wrong? What if this wasn't what she wanted at all? What he'd just fucked himself over and pushed for more than she was willing to give?
He loved her.
He was half certain that he fell for her the moment after he realized she'd swiped his wallet at the ballpark. For months she was all he could think about. Each time she'd come whirling into his life, he'd fallen just a bit harder.
His body was racked with tension as he moved through is loft. Taking out the lasagna and putting it in the oven, while setting the temperate and time, he let his brain go into freak out mode. Felicity would be rambling out loud her thoughts, Oliver on the other hand was having a very internal melt down, which was resulting with his mind warring with itself.
Fuck, he couldn't lose her again.
He wouldn't.
Whatever she needed from him, he was willing to give.
But he needed her to understand him.
He thought this was what she wanted.
And he wanted her in his space. For her to make his space her own. Fuck he was an idiot at times.
Taking a deep breath he causally set the table like he'd done nearly every night Felicity was over. Only tonight, he needed candles. They would help, or so he told himself. Though he really didn't hear his own thoughts because there was so much going on in his head. He felt nerves unlike any he'd ever felt before, because there was no adrenalin coursing through his system and nothing to stop his mind for second guessing everything that he thought he knew.
He was not a fan of this whole nervous thing. It was causing his stomach to tie in knots and his brain to come up with every negative outcome known to man.
With a match in hand, he was attempting to steady the flame when the sound of his front door being all but torn off its hinges. The breath he released blew out the flame of the match he was holding, and the moment his eyes came to rest on Felicity all he could do was smile.
Even spitting mad, she was the most magnificent woman he'd ever seen, and she always could pull a smile out of him. His heart sped up in his chest while he fought the urge to just gather her in his arms and apologize. But she needed to get where he was coming from. To see how his mind worked.
To make them work they needed to get each other on every level, and part of that was her understanding where he was coming from.
They could do this. They've been through worse.
Come on Oliver, you need to speak before she does.
"You are not charming your way out of this."
Shit. Her eyes flashed and she stood rigid as though she was bracing herself for an assault. There she was, trying to close herself off. He didn't want her closed off. She couldn't close herself off for what they were about to do.
"Felicity," the nerves caught in his voice just slightly, but he knew she heard them because her face softened a fraction. He could do this. He could not muck this all up to hell and explain himself.
Damn he thought this was what she had wanted.
He made to move to her but she took a visible step back, looking up at him with wariness in her stunning eyes. She was always ready to run. It made sense seeing as that had been her life, but now, "I'm making lasagna."
This caused her head to jerk, and quizzical replaced the wariness. She wasn't talking. Felicity always talked.
Oh fuck. He was just going to dive into it.
"You left your toothbrush here." This explained everything. The toothbrush had been the catalyst for everything that occurred. It was the cause for all his actions.
"I enjoy good oral hygiene. It's the mark of a civilized society."
Why wasn't she getting it?
Oh fuck, she wasn't getting it.
"But it was your toothbrush. It's now living in my bathroom cabinet, sitting next to mine in the toothbrush holder that you bought for us."
"Because having your toothbrush just lay on a shelf is ten different type of not okay Oliver!"
"I thought." He paused and took a step toward her because he needed to be near her to get though what he was about to say. Had he read everything wrong? Felicity took a step toward him this time, clearly not understanding where his mind was. Reaching out, he slid his large hand into her smaller one, then interlocked their fingers before continuing. "I thought you were giving me signs that you wanted to move in."
His free hand found purchase on her neck, while his thumb lazily swiped the length of her jaw. In turn her free hand came to rest on his hip. "Felicity," his voice wasn't as steady as he would have liked, "I am in this with you. I want you in my life. I want you in my bed each night and the sugared-jet-fuel you call coffee in my kitchen each morning. I thought you wanted me to make a grand gesture to show you that I am in this as deep as a man can be. I read and re-read the signs. I truly thought this is what you wanted."
"You might not want me." Her words cut through him. So, much so he pulled his hand free from hers and placed it on the other side of her neck, his thumbs applying pressure so that she would tip her head up to face him. What was it going to take to get her to realize that he was head over heels for her?
"Felicity." His voice was low and soft, he closed his eyes to gather himself before laying it all out, "I will always want you. I want any bit of you that you are willing to give me. If you don't want to move in we'll wait, but I thought this is what you wanted. Thought this is what would make you happy. Never think for a moment that I won't want you."
"Those are all real nice words." He watched as she was trying to erect walls, even though they were crumbling just as soon as she did. Thank fuck for that.
"Babe, I moved your stuff because I know how you feel about words. It's the reason I thought you'd like that play." He kept his voice low, even though the nerves still broke through some of his words. He was feeling more confident with each passing moment. It killed him that she thought he'd ever leave her. Then moving in would be a step in showing her that it was going to be them against the world.
"I am maybe starting to see your point. But I'm still going to be angry for a while. You stole my stuff! I could have you arrested." He kept his hands at her neck, enjoying the flush in her cheeks and the way her eyes shown. Everything about Felicity was perfect in his eyes. He knew her flaws, he didn't wear rose-colored glasses when it came to her. But damn, he was grateful for doing a double take walking passed the bathroom that day.
Even now, he could see it in her eyes, she wanted this even if she was scared. And she was talking about arresting him again, last time that happened she'd agreed to go on a date with him. So, he was going to take that as a good sign.
Damn, he loved her.
"Felicity Smoak, I love you." The words slipped from his lips freely while he smiled brightly at her. He couldn't keep it in. It was the reason for all of this.
Felicity's eyes grew huge, "I'm going to need you to repeat that." Her hands had come to rest on his forearms, the bite of her nails digging into his skin caused him to smile even brighter. How could she not know?
"I love you. You left your toothbrush here, and I jumped the gun." Oliver kept his voice low, enjoying the way the heat of her body spiked and the way she pressed into him in a way to reach maximum physical contact, "If it's too soon, I get i-"
Her lips cut him off as she tugged on his forearms while surging up to cover his lips. Everything about him caught fire. Felicity could kiss. It didn't take long for him to catch up and become a very active participant. His hands skimmed down her body till they came to her hips, he pressed his fingers into her smooth flesh enjoy the small gasp she gave him, open her mouth and giving him free access. Everything about her was sweet with a hint of mint, and the way she shuddered when their tongue met mad him want to take her here and now.
Felicity's arms had snuck up around his neck, and one was digging into his short hair. One of his arms banded around her back so he could support her as he pressed deeper into her, enjoying the way she writhed against him, trying to get closer and he about lost his damn mind.
Bringing his free hand up, he cupped her neck, his thumb on her pulse, enjoying the beat of the blood through her veins. She was there in his arms, making his blood boil. This must mean good things.
Right?
Felicity pulled back from him, breathing heavily looking up at him with hooded eyes, "Sorry for attacking you."
"That's something you never need to apologize for. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. If you want, I can get the company to move your stuff back to your place. But," Oliver pause running his thumb across her bottom lip, "I'd love for you to move in with me. It's your choice. It's always your choice."
She parted her lips, ready to say something, but the oven took that moment to ding in the background. Drawing her eyebrows together, Felicity looked up at Oliver. She had stayed wrapped in his arms. He was taking this as another good sign, "I put lasagna on, in case I needed to grovel."
"Oh, you'll still need to grovel."
"That's fine." He answered too quickly and she smiled up at him, her hand brushing the along the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the simple motion.
Taking a step back from her, he tagged her hand as he made his way to the kitchen. It hadn't escaped his attention that she hadn't given an answer to moving in, nor did she tell him that she loved him back. Not in words any way.
Sometimes they didn't need the exact words. Although it would be nice to have.
He'd made it to the oven before she gave his hand a tug, it caused him to look over his shoulder at her. There was a slight air of uncertainty coming from her. It was odd to see her quiet, he was use to an endless stand of conversation, but a lot had gone down. It was a lot to take in.
"Oliver." Giving her a small nod to show she had his attention, "I liked seeing our toothbrushes together."
There was a flush coloring her cheeks and his heart started beating wildly. He knew what that meant. At least he was mostly sure he knew what that meant. Follow up conversation was needed, just to make certain, but she seemed forgiving about the stuff stealing. He was taking that as a massive win.
"They make a cute couple."
"It would be a shame to break them up." Damn, she could make his heart beat double time with those words.
"Yeah, but if your toothbrush needs some more space, my toothbrush will just suck it up and wait."
"I love you, Oliver Queen."
"And I love you."
She was fully moved in by the weekend.
Notes:
I couldn't let go of the Swooner universe, so enter in companion one-shots!
The plan is to post little one-shots from different parts of the story line...it's going to be random, but should give a bit more insight to our lovely couple.
This one-shot was mentioned briefly in the Epilogue of Swooner and I wanted to expand on it, because well, Oliver stole her stuff. I wanted the reader to see what was going through his mind, and it was a quick little one off to write.