Prompt: Your day, hour by hour.
7 a.m.
He wakes to the sound of his wife's voice, soft and musical, as if filters through the baby monitor on the nightstand. He glances at the clock beside it, slipping from their bed and padding down the hall to the nursery. He leans against the door frame and watches Felicity change their little girl. His wife smiles up at him and he smiles back. There is a lightness inside of him that has only intensified in the months since Sophie's birth and for that, he is immensely grateful.
8 a.m.
Felicity is rushing around the kitchen, hopping around on one foot while attempting to wedge the other into her impossibly high heels. The scene makes the baby giggle and he shakes his head in amusement.
It is moments like this one that make him fall even more in love with her. She is real. Beautiful, brilliant, strong and compassionate. But she is clumsy and impatient and a little uncoordinated. They aren't flaws, they are simply parts of her that he finds endearing.
9 a.m.
Sophie's pack-n-play, with its pink and grey elephant print, occupies a small corner of the foundry and he knows that if he were to peek at her over his shoulder, he would find her standing at the side, chubby little fingers clutching the net to keep her upright. She likes to watch him train, whether with the dummy or the tire or the salmon ladder, her big blue eyes follow him around the room in fascination.
When he finally does look her way, he grins.
Like mother, like daughter.
10 a.m.
She's sound asleep in her carseat when Felicity calls.
"How's your day going?" he asks, pulling into the parking lot of their favorite market.
She sighs, "It's been busy. And pointless. And I'd much rather be home with you and Sophie than dealing with these ridiculous investor meetings. I mean, that's a job for the CFO, isn't it? I can designate that job to the CFO, right? I mean, I am the owner of the company!"
He chuckles as she rambles and casts a glance at the baby in the backseat.
If someone had told him ten years ago that this would be his life, he would've scoffed. Hell, even five years ago he never would've believed that he'd have ended up here.
11 a.m.
Sophie is clinging to his jacket where she sits on his hip and she is yammering in his ear. He kisses her nose just as John's front door opens.
"Hey man."
"Hey."
Sophie's squeal of delight at the sight of her Uncle John nearly takes out his eardrum and it's a good thing that his friend has the reflexes of an experienced father because he suddenly has an armful of excited toddler. They both laugh.
"You're sure that this is okay?" he questions.
John rolls his eyes, "Oliver, I think I can manage your daughter for a couple of days. This isn't the first time I've babysat for your guys, you know."
He presses a quick kiss to the top of Sophie's head and moves to the stairs.
12 p.m.
The elevator doors open on the executive floor of Queen Incorporated and Felicity's assistant spots him immediately. Jerry waves him into the outer office.
"She's on a call now but as soon as she's done, she's all yours. Her schedule is clear until Monday afternoon."
"Thanks, Jerry, I owe you."
1 p.m.
They stop at a little café for lunch on their way out of town. She asks him repeatedly where they're going but he shakes his head and kisses her knuckles and remains tight-lipped. They are back in the car and heading west. Toward the coast, the ocean, fresh air. And the little cottage that they'd called home that first summer.
3 p.m.
She complains that she needs a bathroom for almost twenty minutes before they find a gas station. He takes a minute to call John while she's inside. They trust Digg and Lyla with Sophie more than any of their friends but it's a rare occasion that they leave her with them for more than a few hours, let alone for a couple of days.
Felicity slides back into the car just as he hangs up. She turns to him with a grin and presses something into his palm.
He makes the rest of the drive with his wife's panties tucked into his pocket.
6 p.m.
They pull up in front of the cottage and he cuts the engine. Felicity is silent beside him and when he turns to face her, her expression is worrisome.
"Oliver…"
Her voice cracks and there are suddenly tears in her eyes. He pulls her into his arms and she cries against his shoulder.
"I love you."
"I love you, too, sweetheart."
7 p.m.
Dinner is a quiet affair on the small deck of the cabin with the light of the setting sun bathing them in its warm glow.
They've been reminiscing about that summer since pulling into the drive. It was an experience that he isn't likely to forget. Those five months changed them, changed him, and he can't imagine who he would be if she hadn't agreed to join him. He committed himself to her in those months, to their relationship, and even though people have come in and out of their lives who have tested that commitment, their bond has never wavered. They're stronger together than they ever were apart.
8 p.m.
She holds his hand as they walk the beach, the cool ocean water lapping at their bare feet.
"Do you think you'll want more?" she murmurs.
"More what?"
"Kids. Do you think you'll want another baby someday?"
He tugs gently on her hand and draws her to a stop beside him.
"I want everything with you," he affirms, cradling her face in his hands, "I want a family, as big or as small as we can manage. If that means it's just the three of us, I'm okay with that. And if we have five more, well, I'm okay with that, too."
She snorts her derision, "Five? Who do you think is going to be delivering this gaggle of children that you want, Queen? Because it sure as heck isn't going to be me."
9 p.m.
They had been in the middle of cleaning up their dinner dishes when the song had come on the radio. She'd hummed the melody under her breath and something about her voice and the sway of her hips had made his heart thrum in his chest. Somehow she had ended up in his arms.
So here they are, three songs later, slow dancing in the tiny kitchen of their rented cottage. He holds her tight, keeping her head tucked beneath his chin, and lets the music carry them.
10 p.m.
He carries her from the kitchen into the bedroom. Her arms are around his neck, her ankles locked across the small of his back, and he cannot stop kissing her. The feel of her in his arms is intoxicating, a drug he's been addicted to from the first hit, and as he lays her back on the bed, he follows her down.
Her hands are on his skin, sliding up his sides as she frees him of his shirt. The garment hits the floor only a minute before hers and then they're lot. Lost in each other, in the way they love one another, in the happiness that come with finding the one person in the world who loves you and wants you in spite of your flaws, your mistakes. The one person who sees you for who you really are.
For Oliver, that person is Felicity, has always been Felicity and will always be her. Only her.
