For Her
In the low dim of the light, Oliver watches Felicity sleep from his place beside her on the bed. He has long since pulled his clothes back on and paced the room while she lay content to doze on her side away from him. All he can do is appreciate how her hair is fire lit by candles beside the bed, that her breathing is slow and even and confirming her dreams. Her beauty is no surprise to him but he is astonished by it just the same. Oliver reaches out his fingers to touch warm skin, brushing from shoulder to elbow, then the satiny curve of her forearm until her palm instinctively turns up to his.
To him, Felicity is benediction. She is not his light but the one who demands its existence. She is the one who drags him into his own lacking glow and shows him who he could be. She will not see the last remnants of his soul succumb to darkness. She would craft them a new shelter in her own heart to heal and re-form, even if the void that separated them still stood glaring in their every interaction. But instead, he is remade by her every word, look and embrace. She has shaped Oliver Queen out of nothing but skin and bones and because of it, he will not fail. He will not fall at her feet a broken man but stand and show her that he was worth fighting for. She told him she loved him and gave him her body, and he will not betray that promise. He can't. So he summons the light, the still faint spark inside his heart and lets it burn into fire.
Lacing their fingers together, Oliver presses a kiss to the back of her hand, rubbing his thumb against the fragile skin inside of her wrist and smiles gently when she startles before realizing it's him beside her.
"Hi," is her reply in a sleep soft voice before she squeezes her fingers against his.
Returning it, he can't stop his face falling to a pensive mask. Their fingers disconnect as Felicity sits up in the bed, holding the sheets against her body, for protection from what he is about to say, he isn't sure.
"Oliver…"
The note of fear doesn't escape him either, and he returns the smile to his face. He isn't unhappy about this, never about this, but that he is forced to leave her so soon.
"I have to go. The League is waiting for my answer." His words are simple and Oliver tries to keep his tone even as possible.
Felicity shakes her head, "It's too soon. They said you'd have three days."
Oliver stretches out his hand and brushes back an errant strand of hair from Felicity's face and curls it behind her ear.
"You're right, I do have three days but I have to do this now. Before..." His voice almost cracks but he holds it together, holds the rest of his words back, almost until they choke in his throat.
Her voice rises with the tiniest bit of incredulity, "Before what, Oliver?"
"Before it gets too hard to leave you." There. He said it. Her gaze immediately softens, her hand coming to rest reassuringly on his thigh. She has to know that he wants to choose her. That he made the wrong choice before and he's replayed it a hundred times and in a hundred different ways. Every time he was exactly where he wanted to be, with her.
He doesn't realize it until she bites her lip and looks down what he's offering her. If she asks him to stay, he'll stay. This time he won't make the decisions without her but with her as partners.
"Oh god, we're really doing this aren't we?" Felicity's voice is slightly shrill as mentally wrings her hands for her answer.
Oliver rubs a hand down her back, trying to soothe her panic, "Doing what?"
Her eyes flick up to his, her mouth parting for a second before she replies, "Partners. Friends. Lovers."
He can't deny the tick in the corner of his mouth when Felicity mentions lovers, her last encounter with the word flickering in his mind.
"I guess we are."
What thoughts run through Felicity's mind, he doesn't know, but he continues rubbing her back in small circles as she decides, unprepared for the kiss she presses against his lips when she's done.
"Go," She tells him, looking into his eyes with hers, glistening with forming tears. "And then come back to me."
He conveys to her the only thing he can to such an order: "I love you, Felicity."
She nods and more of her hair falls to cover her face, her sadness, and it tears at him but he knows it's crucial that he go. Ra's Al Ghul must be stopped by any means necessary, even if that demands destroying him from the inside. Oliver gets up so that he can get Felicity's glasses from the table, he places them back on her nose just like he had taken them from her not so long ago.
Felicity blinks as her eyes adjust behind the frames and smiles wistfully, "I love you too, Oliver." Her face changes suddenly, a picture of concern on her face, its intensity shocking him, "Just please don't die, I don't know how we're going to break Roy out of prison without you."
He laughs, genuinely, and from the same place that his spark has begun to burn. In her presence he knows now what he didn't then: Oliver Queen is not weakness. Oliver Queen is not a sacrifice for those he deems more worth of living. He is the will to still live, still love and to win. And he will, for her.
JSYK, this is only my second story in a very long time and my first Arrow outing. I hope you enjoyed the work.
