TW: Mentions of abuse.

Felicity ordered her coffee and went to go sit down at the table while Oliver said he'd bring them both over. She was normally self-sufficient but she didn't want to anger her boss's step-son on the second day of knowing him. She had already made an idiot out of herself when first meeting him – no need to add fuel to the flames. At least, that's what she thought. Oliver came over to the table just then and set down their coffees. She smiled up at him with gratitude. "Thanks for bringing my coffee." She didn't let him pay for hers', which she could tell was a bit uncomfortable to him but she had her reasons. She wouldn't ever rely on a man the way Cooper had made her rely on him again.

She just wouldn't.

Taking a sip of her coffee, she hummed as the hot beverage warmed her up from the cold outside. "God, I love you." It was a murmur to her coffee and Oliver laughed, causing her to look up at him sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No, please don't apologize. I'm glad the coffee is good," he replied, offering up a smile in return to her sheepishness. She returned it. "So, at the risk of this sounding like a job interview, tell me about yourself. I'd like to know a bit more about the woman who got our security breach taken care of."

Felicity nodded, eyes shifting to the window across from her before she froze. "Oh no." She shrunk in her seat, hunching her shoulders inwards as she tried to make herself as small as possible. Oliver frowned.

"Hey, what is it, Felicity?" His tone was soft and caring and she blinked at him, licking her lips as her eyes traveled back to the window.

Cooper wasn't there anymore.

She shook her head, giving it time to clear before she answered him. "I just thought I saw someone I used to know."

Her tone was shaky at best and Oliver hesitantly slid his hand over and placed it over hers'. She stared at their hands for a moment before looking up at him. He bore a look of nothing but kindness. "Want to talk about it?"

Felicity exhaled a shaky sigh. "It's a messed up story, Oliver."

"Good thing I like some chaos from time-to-time," he replied evenly.

"I probably won't be able to say all of it," she warned.

"Just talk about what you feel comfortable talking about," he replied quietly, tone judgement free and perhaps that's what helped her open up the most.

"My ex-boyfriend, Cooper, is in jail for abuse and assault. Against me," she murmured, eyes taking on a faraway look as she got lost in the memories. "He would get drunk every day and was never the funny kind. He was always angry. He took it out on me. Anyways." She paused to give her head a shake, clearing her throat of the lump that lodged itself inside of it. "I keep thinking I see him but I know he's in jail so I don't know what's going on there." She chanced a glance up at Oliver and was surprised by his reaction. He was angry – that wasn't what surprised her – but he was also sad. Like her painful story hurt him too.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that, Felicity," his tone was soft, rough around the edges with quiet distress.

"Thank you," she murmured, keeping her eyes downcast. She was still embarrassed she didn't leave him sooner; that she didn't report him sooner.

"It's not your fault," he said firmly, and she wondered what her expression must look like for him to be able to accurately read her thoughts. "I promise you that much. Cooper is a pathetic excuse of a man and he is the only one to blame for his actions against you. They were purely hate-fueled. You did nothing wrong."

Felicity stared at him for a long moment, taking in his sincere and earnest expression that was layered in strength and she nodded her head slowly, not sure if she quite believed him completely but finally allowing herself to start to understand that Cooper's attacks against her weren't her fault; weren't something she asked for. "Thank you, Oliver." Her tone was nothing more than a grateful whisper and he squeezed her hand gently before removing his.

"And you think you've seen him? Is he out of prison?" Oliver asked carefully, keeping his eyes a steady constant on her.

"He's supposed to have ten more years before he's up for parole so I know I can't possibly be seeing him," she sighed. "Perhaps it's just my PTSD and anxiety working against me."

He nodded slowly, digesting everything she said before speaking once more. "Well, if you need someone to teach you self-defense, I teach a class every Tuesday and Thursday evening."

She studied him, thinking over the options before she hesitantly nodded. "That sounds good. I could probably afford to take some classes." She was amicable enough to agree with his offer – and she pushed the idea of him shirtless and sweaty out of her mind. That was definitely not needed right now.

As if sensing her thoughts, his lips quirked up in amusement but he didn't say anything and for that she was grateful. She'd be highly embarrassed if he called her out for her inappropriate thoughts. She shouldn't be picturing her boss – one of them, at least – sweaty and shirtless, teaching her self-defense moves in close contact. "You can just come by and see what the class is all about. See if it's a good fit for you."

She hummed her agreement, taking another sip of her coffee. "I can do that. I can come by tomorrow since it's Thursday."

"Great. I'll give you the address when we get back to work," he replied. She glanced at her watch, realizing her lunch hour was almost up.

"Perhaps we should head back. My lunch is almost up," she said softly, torn at the idea of going back to work when she wanted to get to know him more. He nodded his head.

"You're right," he said. "Come on, we can head back and then I'll give you the address of my studio."

She stood up, dusting off her dress and they left. She was curious to see if she would succeed at the self-defense class he taught.

Author's note: Up next, the self-defense. And, this is going to be a slow burn! Xx