Like all things this too passes.
Ray Palmer is, despite the faint guilt burrowed deep into her chest, just a warm body to cling to. Not quite having to force herself to kiss him but all the same with no real desire to push herself into him, Felicity just stops one day.
They end it amicably in a cozy restraunt he happens to own. Quietly, she twists and untwists the napkin in her clenched fists, nervous at the thought of hurting him.
She can't help it. That when she turns to face him, she wants six feet of scars and secrets. She wants the constant brushes of skin on skin, blond hair , and scruff. Felicity all but admits that what she wants is Oliver Queen.
But she can't. She won't.
Things end with Ray Palmer because despite her best efforts, she can't let go.
So she doesn't.
And she's sad to see it's true for him too. He can't let go of the lingering memory of his wife.
...
When Felicity comes into the lair the next day, Oliver notices three things.
Her odd silence. The trace of her nape. A soft , small smile aimed solely towards him.
And it's that smile that makes him want to breathe her in, touch her skin, kiss her.
He doesn't. He only makes his way over to her chair to stand as close as possible to her with the excuse of needing to fill the air with faint conversation.
Felicity turns her head slightly to look at him, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Her gaze is unfathomable.
She says "Do you want to get something to eat later?"
