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Her voice over the phone sounds muffled when he answers after the third ring; reaching over Oliver's fully clothed body to reach his shrill phone.

"It's real isn't it?" Michaela asks in that quiet voice that he hates because it's not her. That meek, weak girl. That's why he teases her, raises his voice at her. Pushes her. He wants her to unleash the fire and brimstone unto him like she always does when her neutral evil troupe is pushed to a point where it's a bit less neutral and a lot more evil.

Closer to her regular self.

"Michaela," He hisses as he stands and moves into the living room so Oliver who had moved positions in his sleep; making sounds that showed how displeased he was to have his beauty sleep interrupted, wouldn't overhear. "Don't talk about this. Nothing happened. We were at the Bonfire all night and we had a great time and that's our alibi and we're sticking to it. Lie to everyone, your parents, your priest… Lie to yourself… maybe one day you'll believe it."

"Connor-"

He hangs up on her when Oliver calls out to him, an action he'll probably regret later when she's haggard and stumbles in tired to class, her usual 'prom queen' persona out of place but Oliver's voice overlaps Michaela's and he's tired.

Michaela's voice makes him upset, reminding him of how much of a possibility it is that he may go to jail

Do you know what they do to guys like him in jail?

"Are you feeling better?" The soothing tones make him feel anxious and he regrets hanging up sooner rather than later, Michaela's neediness forces him to feel strong for her sake but Oliver makes him feel- weak?

"I have to go," Connor says, gathering his things and bolting out of the door before Oliver can protest. He realizes he hasn't looked at Oliver since he got off of the phone with Michaela.

And there's where he goes. To Michaela's.

Because after everything the four of them only have each other. She opens the door after his eighth rap on the door.

He counted.

She looks a lot better than he expected, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and spaghetti strap top. Her hair is tamed but her eyes are not.

Relief is what fills them when she sees him and she gnaws the inside of her cheek and looks down at her painted toes.

"I'm sorry," He says sincerely and she hugs him on whim. It's awkward because she's not a hugging person and he isn't either- not really.

Michaela only reaches up to his shoulder without heels on

They somehow fit together, hugging and sharing body heat and silence until her neighbor opens their door and catches them in their embrace.

They jump apart and the woman gives them a weird look. Probably like she knows.

"I'm sorry," He repeats when she pulls him inside and closes the door. "Where's in this together and -"

His voice breaks. "I'm sorry."