"A little to the left," Felicity said around a mouthful of ice cream. She and Oliver had been dating- actually dating, as hard as that still was for her to believe- for over a month now, and with her lease about to be up, they'd decided that the time was right for them to live together. Now she was perched on top of Oliver's kitchen counter, eating ice cream and directing him where to hang up her Robin Hood poster.
"A little farther," she said, gesturing with the spoon in her hand. "There. Right there."
"Do you maybe want to help me with this?" Oliver asked. Felicity shrugged.
"You have better reach than I do," she said matter of factly. "Especially since you apparently don't own a stepstool. Otherwise, I would."
"You'll have to remind me to put a stepstool on the shopping list now that I'm living with a short person," Oliver snarked, affection coloring his tone. "Could you at least come over here and hold this steady for me so that I can actually hang it up?"
"Sure," Felicity replied, setting down her ice cream and spoon and hopping down off the counter. Crossing the room to where Oliver was struggling with the poster, she stepped in front of him, ducking under his upraised arm, and put her hands as far up the poster's frame as she could reach, holding it in place so that Oliver could hang it up. After a few minutes, he murmured, "Done" and she stepped back. Felicity couldn't resist kissing Oliver as she re-entered his personal space. Oliver deepened the kiss immediately, seemingly without conscious awareness that he was doing so. Felicity had to pull away before things got too heated and they got distracted from or forgot what they were doing.
"Is that everything?" Oliver asked, voice soft.
"Hmmm?" Felicity asked, her mind still in a fog. When Oliver's words finally processed in her brain, she said, "Oh, you mean with the moving? Yeah, that's the last of it." She looked over at where her poster was now hanging on the wall over the fireplace and couldn't help but smile.
"Somehow I never took you for a Robin Hood fan," Oliver said from where he was standing, just behind her, his breath stirring her hair.
"It was my first love," Felicity replied. "Sci fi came along later. Disney's Robin Hood was my favorite movie when I was little, and 'The Adventures of Robin Hood'"- she gestured toward the poster on the wall- "was my mom's. When I was old enough to really appreciate it, she showed it to me, and I fell in love with it. Something about the concept just...appeals to me, I guess." After a pause, she added, "This poster has gone with me to every place I've ever lived. It felt right to bring it along to this place as well."
"You never talk about your family," Oliver remarked, care softening his voice.
"Yeah, well, my dad left my mom and I when I was seven," Felicity said bitterly, the ache of abandonment that never really went away becoming sharp and new again at the reminder, "and after that family became kind of a sore subject." The next thing Felicity knew, Oliver was wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him.
"Oh, Felicity," he murmured in her ear. "I'm so sorry." She didn't resist as he led her over to the couch in front of the fireplace and sat her down on it. Somehow, she'd always known this was coming, that someday the subject of her family would come up, and because he cared about her, Oliver would want to know more.
Oliver took a seat on the couch next to Felicity and angled himself so that he was facing her. He didn't speak, just looked deep into her eyes to indicate that when she was ready to talk, he was ready to listen.
"When I was growing up, I thought I was broken," Felicity said after a long silence. "That no one could or ever would love me. It's the only way a kid can grow up when their parent abandons them. I should have hated my dad for leaving, but I didn't. I hated myself. All I ever wanted to know was why. What was so wrong with me that he would leave?" Her voice broke on the last sentence. That question had haunted her all her life, and she knew that she would never hear the answer to it. Tears stung her eyes. She lowered her gaze from Oliver's, suddenly ashamed.
"Felicity," Oliver murmured. "Felicity, look at me." It took a moment, but Felicity managed to summon up the courage to meet his eyes once more. She could see sorrow and anger in them, and knew in that moment that he understood that those fears of brokenness, of not being good enough, had never gone away and still tormented her to this day.
"There is nothing wrong with you, Felicity," Oliver said fiercely. "There was never anything wrong with you. There is everything wrong with him for failing so completely at being a parent that he abandoned his daughter and left her thinking that she wasn't good enough, that she wasn't enough, for the rest of her life. He never got to see the incredible woman you became, and that's on him."
"Oliver-" Felicity began, thinking all of that deserved some kind of response.
"You're not broken," Oliver went on before she could get anything else out, "and you're not unlovable. I love you, and I swear to you, right here and right now, that I will never abandon you. Not ever."
"Thank you," Felicity whispered. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."
"I think I have a pretty good guess," Oliver replied with a small smile. "But you're welcome." After a pause, he added, "If you ever need to hear it again, if you ever need the reminder, just say so. I'll say it as many times as it takes for you to believe it. You're worth that to me, Felicity. You're worth everything." Struck dumb by Oliver's words, Felicity wasn't sure how to respond. Finally, she managed to whisper, "Thank you" a second time. It didn't come close to covering her feelings, but it was the best she could do.
"You're welcome," Oliver said, her voice just as quiet as her own had been. No more words were spoken between them after that. It wasn't long before Felicity found herself lying down on the couch with Oliver's arms around her, staring into the cheerily burning fire. Despite it being the middle of the day, she drifted peacefully off to sleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire and by Oliver's touch, gentle and feather light, as he ran his fingers absentmindedly through her hair.