The blade cut his face again and the alcohol from the after shave burned it. He flung the razor across the room and broke the vase Clark had gifted him. Great. Now everyone's going to think I can't even shave myself, let alone being able to look after an entire city. Or the women are going to think I'm so stupid, they'll start throwing themselves at me like a freaking football. That wasn't the end of it. He stubbed his toe on the kerb and shouted out in annoyance, "Stupid bastard pavement!" A little child looked up at him, perplexed while its mother reacted with tuts of disapproval. Paprazzi jumped from behind the bins and grimaced, intrusively shoving the cameras in his face. The perpetual irritations in Oliver Queen's life began to intensify as he stupidly revealed himself as the Green Arrow.
"Why on Earth would you be so idiotic Oliver?" Bart asked.
"Why on Earth have you been reading the dictionary Bartholomew?" was his response. Little did Bart know, it was for a little thing called Chloe Sullivan? She decided to swallow a pill to save his worthless butt, and then never show her face again. The bloody cheek, he thought, how could she do this to me? Am I selfish in thinking she is being so utterly greedy? Keeping herself to herself and not sharing with me. It's preposterous that I should feel this way.
"Hey Gay Arrow! Why don't you slip on something a little more fitting and flash us a lovely smile?"
Oliver cringed internally as he put on his sun glasses and walked into his tinted car as calmly as calm could go. Stupid Inquisitor paparazzi concocted a stupid story where apparently, Oliver had been abducted by aliens from Mars and had dedicated his life to saving the 'people' in it ever since. "God damned fools" he said to himself.
"Talking to yourself; first sign of madness."
He whipped his head up to see whose voice that remark belonged to, but no one was there. He willed himself not to think who it was, although the voice was painfully recognisable. Given the oddity of the situation, Oliver poured himself a large glass of whisky and gave directions to the driver. Another evening drew close and so did another crucifying ball. The leathered men with bimbos at their sides, over prescribed caviar, and alcohol in abundance was not Oliver's idea of a good night. But since the revelation people looked to him as if he was an urban Jesus and he couldn't refuse. Flocks of them herded around Oliver asking endless number of questions, to which he answered half heartedly and in a daze. Nothing in his life was personal anymore. He couldn't get intimate with anyone without having it plastered across the front pages the following day. He tolerated the weight and smacked on a permanent smile on his face, waiting for the minute it turned nine so he could pounce at the opportunity to drive off to his empty home. After being partially blinded by dozens of cameras, Oliver hopped on his motor bike and quickly drove to his apartment. It was immaculately kept with trendy furniture and snobbishly haughty upholstery, but it just didn't feel right. Oliver stripped out of his stiff suit into something a little more comfortable and sat on the cold floor. He waited for something to stir, a sound to be heard or even a cool breeze to caress his skin; something that would make him feel alive. But nothing happened; he sat in pin drop silence futilely waiting to feel human. She needs to be here by my side really. I don't want anyone here except for her. No facades or frills or glazing, just me and her cuddled up in front of the television. I see her in my mind, I feel her on my skin but the second my eyes open my heart beats irregularly missing the presence of its other half. Warm tears dripped on Oliver's cheek as he realised for the first time in two months and twenty days, he would feel utterly alone for the rest of his life. Without Chloe, what is the point of having things and living in nice places? None at all. Mind over matter is bull shit. I can't keep her out of my head or my home or from every cell in my body. Frantically, Oliver packed his essentials and drove to Watch Tower in his neighbour's car wearing sweat pants, a hoody and a pair of sneakers. The elevator was rickety and the security system was below substandard. The smell of Tess Mercer's perfume lingered in the air as Oliver's nostrils flared naturally, his body not used to the scent of the place it was so used to. "Oliver?"
He spun around and saw Mercer's long legs hovering above his head. "What are you doing up there?" he accused. That's where Chloe and I talk. He didn't mean to sound angry, but he did. "I was just admiring the view. Sorry." Her heavy heels clanked down the stairs as a smiling face hovered on Oliver's. Her eyes were green too, but not the same. They didn't dazzle or glimmer; they just cautioned and repelled any form of emotion. It's not the same. Without Chloe, it's just not the same.
"What happened to cutting yourself off from your hero pals and places?" Tess asked.
"I'm not patrolling this weekend so I though I'd just spend some time with Wa- spend some time here." Tess nodded, as if she understood what he actually meant. A bitter chuckle was balanced in Oliver's throat, but he forced it down to protect their 'friendship'. Throughout the night, Tess worked relentlessly to upgrade the security and polish the inside of Watch Tower. She noticed Oliver watch her like a hawk, but brushed it off by avoiding his glares. Why is she ordering cream paint? Chloe likes it the way it is…No no no! Bio analysis is better than cognitive. Oliver watched Tess until she left at four in the morning. The sun's rays were gently warming the sky and the sky line was slowly coming to life. "Bye Oliver."
Finally I can be in Watch tower, he thought. He made a pot of coffee and sat on the couch upstairs. Oliver closed his eyes and remembered himself three months ago.
"Oliver?"
"Hmm?"
"That thing you did should be illegal." Chloe traced his chest with her small fingers while Oliver looked outside the large window feeling content. "Do you want me to do it again?" he asked impishly. Before she could even respond, he went under the covers and tickled her relentlessly. "No stop it Ollie! Oliver! Stop!" Chloe giggled ceaselessly, kicking the blanket off their naked bodies. Tell me you love me, Oliver thought, just tell me you love me you stubborn woman. Then, a sudden clanging of metal came from downstairs. "Welcome to Watch Tower Mr. Kent."
"Aw crap, it's Clark!" she cried out, heaving from the laughter. Oliver hushed her lips and shouted, "Clark! Come back in ten man, there's been a bathroom spillage." Which was the unspoken code for "I'm having sex with your best friend; Get. Out." Oliver turned back to Chloe and pounced on the couch, "Where were we Mr. Arrow?"
The sun shone brilliantly and illuminated the room with colours of blue and red and green. His eyes opened, unlocking the sadness that was kept in for so long. It wasn't just a physical thing. I love her. "I love you Chloe Sullivan. Stop being selfish and come back."
The familiar sound of the elevator droned in his ears;
"Welcome to Watch Tower Miss Sullivan."
NOTE: Just something I wrote an hour ago. If you want me to continue, let me know : )