Title: Puppy Love
Author: Some1FoundMe
Summary: Just a random little one-shot / drabble prompted by a photo of EBR's new puppy (courtesy of Instagram).
A/N: I used Google translate for the puppy's name so my apologies if its an incorrect translation… sometimes you never know with Google. Also, for anyone waiting for a new chapter of An Arrow Thru It, I promise you that I haven't forgotten about that one. Unfortunately when I get stressed and RL gets in the way, my writing tends to get stuck on the backburner… but hopefully I'll get another chapter up soon. Fingers crossed.
Puppy Love
"Oliver."
"Felicity, no."
"But Oliver! Look at her!"
He sighs, "We don't need a dog. We need an apartment. Somewhere to live. I think the dog can wait."
He refuses to meet her eyes. He can't look at her. He knows that one look of that sweet, pleading expression and he'll break. But he has to stay strong in this. They're supposed to be house hunting, not dog hunting. They don't need a dog before they have somewhere to put it.
"Look at her. Just look at that adorable face and tell me that she's not perfect."
He shakes his head.
"I'm sure she's great, Felicity, but Thea's allergic and we can't take her back to the loft."
It's a blatant lie, one that he knows he'll pay for later, but he's willing to do anything if it means she'll stop looking at him like that and keep moving.
They'd only stopped in the strip mall parking lot because it houses her favorite coffee shop. If he'd known that the rescue group would be parked outside of the pet supply store, he would've avoided the place like the plague.
"I'm sure we could find someone to keep her for a few days, just until we find a place. John and Lyla will take her. Or even Laurel."
He scrubs his hand over his face, exasperated, and looks everywhere but at the beautiful blonde genius with the whimpering puppy in her arms. It really isn't fair, he thinks, the sight of his girlfriend's big blue eyes pleading with him while she cradles an innocent puppy to her chest. It isn't fair because Felicity knows damn well that when it comes to his resolve, nothing can make him crack the way that the expression on her face can. The expression he has no doubt she's wearing at that exact moment. He doesn't need to look at her to know how she's looking at him.
"Please, Oliver."
Fuck.
The intonation of her words is enough to stir the longing inside of him, the longing he hasn't gone a day without since meeting her, and he knows that she's using her powers against him. The puppy lets out a soft little whine before her tongue lashes against his cheek and he turns to glower at Felicity. But his annoyance – forced though it was – disappears the minute he meets her eyes. The boxer-lab mix sports a dark, brindled coat and her soft brown eyes are blinking up at him.
Fuck.
Thirty minutes later, after making the rounds of the pet supply store and buying all the items necessary for bringing home an eight week old puppy, they are back in the car and heading off to another townhouse Felicity had lined up for them to view.
"Krasnyy."
The word is softly spoken and not correctly pronounced but when he glances over at Felicity and finds her scratching thoughtfully at the puppy's head, he knows he didn't misunderstand. She is grinning at him with her cell phone in her free hand.
"It means red, right?"
He blinks hard, the implication of the name and its origin not at all lost on him, and nods.
"It means red."