Author's note: This is a little prompt, based on the tiny prompt-challange smoakandarrow has going on on tumblr. She gives a Prompt and you have 60 minutes to do the entire process..so yeah hope I did good:D
The prompt was: 'Impulses'
It's my first Olicity-related piece of letters so I hope you enjoy it:)
"You did it" she turned around, her eyes meeting his ocean blue pools.
"We did it" he gently corrected her, giving her that ridiculously attractive smirk of his. "We got Queen Consolidated back" he comfirmed for the thousandth time this evening. His eyes wandered around the room full of happy and well dressed people.
They didn't just have QC back, they also had been able to get the club back in which they were now holding an event to show the world that QC was not going to leave the family.
His gaze wandered back to Felicity, his blue pools taking in every tiny bit of her. That long, pastelred, strapless dress, which was close-fitting at the upper part of her body, looked even better on her than he had been able to imagine, when he had bought it for her. He almost looked away, when he realized that she had been observing him, while he had been consumed by her beauty. A shy smile made its way through his face and was then replaced by a genuine and loving smirk.
"You look beautiful" he admitted, softly caressing her arm with one of his hands.
"Thanks" she smiled, looked down and blushed.
After three years you might think it would be easy for him to not give in to all his feelings and emotions but it wasn't. After three years, it was even more difficult. With each day he was more consumed by her beauty and with each glass-adjusting or lip-biting gesture he fell even more in love with her and with each touch - with each touch he lost himself more and more in her; in love and consumed by her beauty and intelligence. So no, the years didn't make it easier, they made it harder but also, they made him love her more, want her more.
It was those tiny moments of happiness and consumption in which he wished she was his. In which he wished that he would just give in to those impulsive demands in his head, begging him to just pull her closer and simply kiss her.
Her hand taking his brought him back to reality. He seemed surprised but she didn't leave him much time to ask or wonder. He must had been looking at her with so much love and so much consumption that she had decided that if he wouldn't follow his own demands, she would follow them herself.
He followed her downstairs, closing the door behind them, not letting go of her hand. With every step he came closer and near the bed he had put in that basement for those long nights, he let go of the hand, making her turn around.
Softly, he touched her faced, watched her as she closed her eyes while his hand wandered to her neck, resting there. He felt her hands take of his jacket, losen and take of his tie and heard the small peace of fabric fall on the floor somewhere in the still dark room. While her hands worked on opening up his shirt, his second hand wandered to her lower back, pulling her closer, his hand on her neck following the movement, almost surprising her slightly shivering body. He closed his eyes, felt the now lose fabric of his shirt make room for the gentle but demanding hands of the woman in front of him. His skin burning where ever her touch went. He knew her eyes were closed, forehead resting on forehead. Gentle and almost demanding he pulled the bottom half of her, in thin fabric sheathed body even closer to his, their noses touching and their lips almost locking. Almost but not quite yet.
Almost, he didn't give in to his impulses. Almost. Almost, he hadn't wanted to follow her because he had known what was about to come.
Almost, but he did. He leaned in, his mouth meeting her pink, soft lips, both opening up almost synchronized. And for a second he forgot the world.
Almost, he didn't give in to his impulses. Almost. But he did.