Oliver and Felicity walked through campus after a late dinner, Felicity tucked securely into his side as they discussed the virtue of books and their movie adaptations. Oliver didn't particularly have strong feelings on the subject, but he loved hearing her go on about it because she had strong opinions. After a few months together, he'd learned that Felicity had several topics with which she became incredibly passionate. Tea. (It should be served hot with milk.) The Apple versus PC debate. (Apple products were overpriced, but did last.) Who Rory should have ended up with on Gilmore Girls. (Logan, obviously.) And, apparently, book to movie adaptations.

"I just think if you're going to do it at all, you should do it the right way. Andthe right way is doing it close to the source material! Anything else, and why even bother?"

"I couldn't agree more."

She glanced up at him and said, "I'm not boring you, am I?"

"Not possible," he said, squeezing her side.

"I get sort of worked up about this sort of thing. Ever since The Goblet of Fire, where they completely trashed the scene where Harry's name gets chosen for the Triwizard Tournament." She shook her head swiftly. "It really was a turning point for me."

"I can tell. You've brought it up no less than three times during this conversation."

"I just don't understand how they thought we wouldn't notice. We're nerds. We live to pick apart stuff like that."

They stopped in front of her building and she turned her body in to him, draping her arms around his neck. Her eyes drifted shut as he brushed his mouth against hers.

"You know, I've never actually seen that movie," Oliver said.

"What movie?"

"Harry Potter."

Felicity's eyes popped open. "Wait, do you mean that movie specifically, or all of them?"

Oliver shrugged. "Both, I guess."

"You've at least read the books, right?"

Oliver shook his head and when she asked what better thing he could possibly be doing instead, he said, "You probably don't want to know the answer to that."

"You know, sometimes I've thought about if we would have ever crossed paths before college. And now, I can say with pretty strong certainty that's a no."

He smirked, tugging her closer. "I don't know, I always had a thing for blondes."

"Then we definitelywouldn't have crossed paths. I wasn't a blonde until a year ago."

"Wait, seriously?" Oliver said. "I would have never known."

"I have a very good hair colorist. If I had to choose one person to save during an apocalypse, it would probably be her."

Oliver snorted. "Good to know."

"Hey, I'm sorry that I was going on so much about Harry Potterbefore considering you have literally no frame of reference," she said, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Next time, you can stop me."

"I didn't want to stop you. I like watching you be passionate about things. It's nice."

"You're nice," she said, pressing her body against his and turning her face into his neck. She pressed a soft kiss to his pulse point and then murmured, "Even if I did just learn you are culturally defective."

He chuckled warmly, keeping her close as she trailed kisses up his jaw to his mouth. They were in public and probably should have been a little less of this, but he didn't care. When he was in his arms, he didn't care about much else, and as he kissed her it struck him how perfectly she not only fit there, but everywhere. In a few short months, she had become somewhat of an indispensable factor in his life, and a realization hit him so suddenly, so simply, that he didn't know how he didn't come to it sooner. When they parted she looked up at him, her breathing just north of normal, and she asked, "What is it?"

"I love you, Felicity."

She blinked rapidly and a cold discomfort settled on his chest with each beat of silence. Felicity was never quiet, but right now they could have heard a pin drop. Carefully, she said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He expected her to say more, but she had nothing else to say. At least not then, when her mind was so loud that it could drown out a freeway.

"I should probably get upstairs," Felicity said. "Do you want to come up?"

She never asked him that before. It was always assumed. And so, he shook his head and said, "I think I should actually call it a night."

"Okay."

She still didn't make a move for the door, and he said, "Unless you want me to come up."

"Totally up to you," she said, beginning to rock on her heels.

"Well-"

"Felicity, I was looking for you!" her RA said, walking toward her. "You have a package in the mailroom."

"Oh good." She looked over at Oliver. "Well, then I better…"

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

She nodded. "See you tomorrow."

Oliver unlocked the door to his room and walked in, shutting it loudly behind him. Roger was watching something on his laptop, and he paused the show and said, "I thought you were staying at Felicity's tonight."

"Nope," Oliver said, toeing his shoes off at the doorway. "Not tonight."

"What happened?" Roger asked immediately.

"Why do you just assume something happened? Maybe I was tired."

Roger scoffed and said, "You two are never tired around each other. Believe me, I've been one bed over."

"Look, nothing happened," Oliver returned shortly. "I just told her that I loved her and she didn't really say anything back."

"Our definitions of nothing are vastly different. What do you mean she didn't say anything back?"

"She said thank you."

Roger snorted and then immediately said, "Sorry. It's just so polite. And very Felicity."

"Maybe I said it too soon," Oliver said, laying down on his bed. "This is why guys don't like to do this shit."

"I don't think it's ever too soon so long as you mean it. And, you know, it's not the first date or something."

"I meant it," Oliver said. "And I didn't really expect her to say it back. That's not why I said it. But, she really didn't say it back. And then, there was this whole weird thing about whether I'd go up to her room."
"And we all see how that turned out."

Oliver looked over at his roommate and said, "You're really not helping here."

"I told you, I am only good at the initial subterfuge. Afterwards, I'm pretty useless."

"Might I remind you that your initial subterfuge was catfishing your best friend?" Oliver said.

"Yeah, and it worked, didn't it?"

"I'll just give it some time. It'll blow over."

In the wake of Oliver telling Felicity that he loved her, she was in need of a distraction to keep her from having to sort out her own feelings, and she got exactly that with the Oxfam dance-a-thon. It was your basic all-night dance-a-thon with the proceeds going to Oxfam and a collection of other charities that all teamed up on campus. Felicity was on the board for the event, and threw herself completely into the planning. She auditioned all the bands. Hand-selected the décor. That on top of her school work left little time for socializing, and by the time of the event, she had only seen Oliver a handful of times and only for short stints. Roger, she saw even less.

"Are we even friends anymore?" he joked when they saw each other at the venue.

"Of course, we are. I'm sorry. I've just been so busy." She noticed Oliver was missing and asked, "Is he coming separately?"

"No, he's here somewhere. He stopped in the bathroom."

Felicity felt weirdly nervous to see him. After avoiding him for a good week, they were signing up for a full night of dancing where save for the three allotted passes when someone else could cut in, they were going to have to be together. She hoped that maybe the forced togetherness could help them get through the weirdness.

She spotted him across the hall and her heartbeat quickened, like always. He was wearing a suit, the white button-up open at his neck. Oliver looked good in just about everything he wore, but there was something about him in formal wear that always got her. Their eyes met and he smiled slightly, her stomach fluttering. And then she felt it. The pull at the base of her belly mixed with white hot fear. She wanted to run away – far away – but then his hand was on her waist and he kissed her cheek.

"You look beautiful," he said.

"Thank you. So do you. I mean, you look the male equivalent of beautiful. Whatever that is."

"I think it's handsome," Roger piped in. "Or dapper. Words that you have not used to describe me tonight, might I add."

Felicity smirked. "You are both handsome and dapper, Roger."

"Well, that goes without saying," he said, straightening his suit jacket with a tug of his lapels. It was his cosplay one again, and thanks to some late-night snacks, it fit a bit better than at Robert Queen's funeral.

"You know you don't have to stay the full night, right?" Felicity said to Roger. Oliver, on the other hand, had signed up for a full night of dancing.

"There's food all night, right?" Felicity nodded. "Then I'll be here all night."

Felicity laughed. "Okay then." She looked up at Oliver. "We probably should get over to the dance floor. They'll start the clock soon."

She picked up their dance card from the table it had been resting on – Couple 22 – and tacked it on to the back of his suit jacket.

"So, it's 24-hours of dancing?" Oliver asked as they walked over to the floor.

"That or until the last couple is standing," she said. "I think the longest it's gone is twelve."

"We can manage that," he said, his arm sliding around her waist. Her body instinctively leaned in and she felt it again – the push and pull, and one part of that equation was definitively winning. Oliver read into her silence, and said, "Felicity, look, if we're going to spend the entire night like this-"

"It's fine," she interrupted, voice falsely bright. "I'm fine."

"Felicity-"

"Let's just have a nice time, okay? We don't have to…we can sort out everything else another time, okay?"

"Okay," he said unhappily.

Several hours later, the pair swaying slowly with Felicity's chin propped on Oliver's shoulder, he murmured, "I can just take it back."

So much for not talking about it, she thought.

"That's not how it works," she said. "You can't just take it back."

"Why not? I said it. They're my words."

"I don't want you to take it back," she said stubbornly.

"Well, maybe I do. Because, we were happy before. Really happy. And ever since I told you I loved you, it's like all of that has changed."

Felicity wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that nothing had changed, but there was truth in what he said. There was a shift since he said those three words. A shift in her. To be quite honest, those three words terrified her.

"Do we have to talk about this now?" she asked.

"Felicity, I have this feeling that if we don't talk about it now, we never will. You've avoided me for the past week. Any time I tried to talk to you, you made up some excuse."

"I was busy," she said weakly.

He exhaled sharply and said, "Look, if you don't love me-"

"I never said that," she interrupted.

He looked down at her. "What?"

"I never said I didn't love you. I just…" she trailed off, her nerves stretched so tightly that she felt as if she would break. "I've never actually said those words to anyone besides my mom. I'm sure if you asked a shrink, she'd say it has something to do with my dad. I don't know. All I know is that any time I've gotten close, it feels like my skin wants to turn inside out."

"You've gotten close?"

She avoided his gaze as she said, "Just once."

"Felicity."

"When you said you loved me, all I felt was fear. Not happiness. Not joy. Fear." She finally looked at him. "What does that say about me?"

"I'm not going to leave you, you know," Oliver said, his arms tightening around her waist. "If you're concerned about that, it's not going to happen."

"Oliver," she said in a low voice. "That's a nice sentiment, but we're nineteen."

"I don't care," he said. "My parents met when they were twenty and they were married for thirty years. Age doesn't matter. It's the person that does. And, I think I chose pretty well here. I love you, Felicity."

"I thought you were taking it back," she said in a small voice.

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"Before I was pretty sure you loved me, too."

"Oliver-"

He dropped his mouth down to hers and kissed her. It was a hard kiss, like he was trying to communicate everything his words couldn't with his mouth. She gave into the moment, grasping his face with her hands, their feet stilling. She wanted to believe him. That if she gave him all of her, they could make this work. But, she had been hurt before. She didn't have many memories of her father. She was only two when he left, but she remembered that day. Her mother crying. His blue suitcase. She hadn't understood, stumbling over and around the concept that someone who was supposed to be irrevocably hers could just leave.

"Couple 22!" the announcer said loudly, startling both Oliver and Felicity. "Couple 22, you are done! Please remove yourself from the dance floor!"

Felicity's brain was about three paces from the rest of her, but luckily Oliver had better control of his faculties and he tugged her to the side of the dancefloor.

"We're done already," she said. "I can't believe it. I'm a horrible board-member."

"I'm sorry, I feel like I'm a bit to blame here."

She looked up at him and smiled slightly, taking a hold of his hand. "It's not your fault."

"You guys are done already?" Roger said, joining them. "I've only gotten through half the food options."

Oliver looked over at his roommate and said, "Too full?"

"Of course not," Roger returned easily. "I got distracted by Patty Nichols from my trig class. She asked to dance, and apparently, I am a very good partner because then everyone else started asking me to sub in. You know, dance-a-thons might be my new thing."

"I'm very happy for you," Oliver said.

Felicity watched the exchange, feeling a certain warmth spread through her body. Here he was. This impossibly handsome specimen of a man who had dropped into her life when she least expected him. It was just about as inconceivable as any other impossible thing, but he was here, holding her hand and bantering with her best friend. He had chosen her, not once but every day since they confessed their feelings. And, he told her that he would continue to choose her. Every day. She had no way to know if that would hold true. No one did. But, she decided then to believe it. Because, as much as her father chose to leave seventeen years ago, she could choose to stay. She could choose him.

"Oliver," she said.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

There was a beat of silence and then Oliver tugged her toward him, his arms encircling her waist as he kissed her soundly. Roger clapped his hands together and said, "I think this calls for a taco!"

When Oliver pulled away, he gamely said, "No takebacks now. By either of us."

Felicity nodded, surprised by how calm she felt now that she had said the words. It was almost like a weight had been lifted.

"No takebacks."

Roger returned with tacos for all of them and they went outside, sitting on the cold concrete in their formalwear, eating tacos and talking about nothing and everything. Looking back, all three would recall it as one of their best college memories. In fact, Roger mentioned it specifically during his speech at Felicity and Oliver's wedding, raising his champagne flute as he said, "May your life together be filled with love and tacos. The foundation of any happy marriage."

Felicity raised her champagne flute, resting her head on Oliver's shoulder. A lot had happened since they were all together outside that dance-a-thon, but when Oliver asked her to marry him, it was the easiest choice she ever had to make. Because while her life hadn't always been simple, loving him was.

"Oliver," she murmured, taking his hand and holding it on her help.

He glanced over at her. "Yeah?"

"I really love you."

He grinned and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I love you, too."

A/N: This is the final chapter. Thank you so much for reading!