So, because I already had a story in my head for chapter 8, and because I didn't know when KittyKat1984 would claim her cookie (these time differences are a real pain in the butt btw) I went ahead and wrote this little thing first. Leaving chapter 9 free for cookie-grabbing .

Want another cookie? For chapter 10? Or maybe a brownie (hold the nuts). Can you guess which country-turned-poppy, ex-boyfriend-hating singer I 'borrowed' lyrics from for this story?

Little hint, it's a song from her 4th album, which has a color as title.

Good luck! And Happy readings!

Felicity glanced at the clock, for what felt like the millionth time that night. Just waiting for an appropriate hour to get out of bed. So, when she read the time on the clock, she decided that six-thirty was as good an hour as any to get up.

She hadn't slept a wink that night. Kept tossing and turning. Acutely aware of the empty spot beside her. It had only been a month since they got together, but they hadn't slept a night apart since. She was a little surprised at how fast her body had gotten used to the weight of his body next to hers. The brush of his feet against hers, and the hand gently rubbing circles on her stomach. It was like her personal brand Xanax, relaxing her into sleep. She'd come to depend on his presence to keep the nightmares at bay.

But they'd had a huge fight last night. He'd gone off doing something completely half-cocked, without Diggle as back-up and without her to guide him. And he'd gotten hurt. Not badly, but still. He didn't see the problem though. And that had hurt her more than anything else. It felt as if he didn't even care that she was worried. He'd brushed her off, saying it was nothing he couldn't handle. And she had flipped out.

He had infuriated her so much, she'd thrown her hands in the air, and her phone had gone flying at his head. He caught it before it hit him (of course) and had put it on the bed, looking slightly shocked. She'd told him to leave, pushed him out of the bedroom and locked the door.

She'd cried a few hours, until her nose was completely stuffed and her eyes were raw of salty tears. She'd sent him away, and she was sorry for that. But she still believed she was right about last night. If he wasn't more careful next time… How long would it take for them to see each other again? For both of them to cool off enough to be able to have a grown-up conversation.

So when she opened the door to the bedroom, it shocked her a little to hear soft snores coming from the living room. He stayed she thought, and her heart did a little skip of happiness. And then her stomach dropped, because he was here, and they would have to talk about last night. And she wasn't prepared yet.

When she saw him lying on the couch, her first thought was how stunning he was while sleeping, his features so much more at peace. The second was how the hell can he sleep after last night?! That bothered her, and not just a little. She'd been up all night replaying the fight, and he was here, snoring and being all relaxed and sleeping.

She tiptoed over to the kitchen, in desperate need of strong black coffee, and the nerve to wake him up. When she had just passed him, opening the door to the kitchen, he called her name. She turned around to see him sitting up, his eyes looking really sleepy and puffy. Oh, he might not have gotten as much sleep as she thought he did.

She sighed and sat on the coffee-table across from him, closed her eyes for a minute and said: "We should talk about last night, 'cause I've heard somewhere you should never leave a fight unresolved." He picked up her hand and replied: "Okay, but just to be clear, do I need protection-pads for this conversation?" She opened her eyes and a smile slid across her face. Even when she was totally (and rightfully) pissed off at him, he still found ways to make her laugh. Damn him!

She felt her resolve crack, she threw her arms around his neck. "Don't ever let me kick you out again! Stay! Always Stay! It's just that I'm worried when you go out without back-up something will happen to you. I've loved you from afar for so long, and not that I finally have you, it kills me to think you might go again." She stopped to take a breath, holding her finger on his lips, indicating she was not quite ready yet. "Even if you think it's funny when I get mad, which makes me even madder by the way. I just think we are so good for each other, and you should stay. Always!"

Indicating that she was done now, she dropped her hand from his mouth. He cupped her face pressed his lips to hers and murmured always. And I'm sorry against her lips. The words contained so much more than what he was saying. She let out a content sigh, feeling all the stress dissipating wherever his hands brushed over her body. They went back to bed after that. Feeling a pressing need to make up, and eventually catch some sleep too.

When they finally got out of bed, they were famished. Spending all that time working off calories made a girl really hungry. Except, there was nothing in the fridge, besides some funky smelling milk and a lump of what she thought was cheese, but could really be anything. That's what you get when you rarely spend any time at home and lived off of take-out and energy drinks.

They went out and bought groceries. She couldn't even remember the last time she went to the grocery store, but she was pretty sure it had been before she'd found Oliver bleeding all over her back seat. It's a good thing that she had a very sweet, old and forgetful neighbor, to lend her toilet paper and coffee, or she would've been screwed on a number of occasions.

She was surprised at Oliver's choice of cereal. He'd put the box in the cart and she'd cocked her head and stared at him. All he'd done was shrug and say: "What can I say, they're magically delicious". They went aisle after aisle and before they knew it the cart was stuffed full of stuff. Chances were half of the things they bought would go bad, but whatever.

Sometimes she cursed herself for living on the fourth floor of an apartment building without an elevator. But, not today. Because he was doing all the carrying of the groceries. Another perk of having a boyfriend who did the salmon ladder for fun (besides the awesome view it gave her).

The next time they had a fight and she kicked him out, he didn't move. He let her push him, but she was (obviously) no match for him. He'd wrap his arms around her and pulled her close. They never went to bed angry anymore. And there was always the familiar feel of his hand tracing circles on her stomach. The only way she could fall asleep. Her personal brand of Xanax.

Did you guess it yet? Drop your thoughts (about the song and the chapter) down below and I'll be forever grateful! And when I'm grateful, I tend to hand out cookies!.

KittyKat1984; I had thought about having her throw something on purpose, but wanted to keep to the song a little, and I really couldn't see Felicity purposely throw her phone :)