Chapter Text
Quote from Where the Wild Things Are. I own nothing!
Conner snuggled deeper into his covers. His sandy brown hair looked so soft against the pillow case decorated with robots and lasers. His big blue eyes stared wide in wonder at Felicity.
"What happened next?" He whispered. She smiled and said, " Well then, And Max, the king of all wild things, was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.”
Conner’s eyes grew sad.
"I don’t want him to be sad." He said, his small voice barely making past the barrier of his sheets. She touched his hair and gave him a kiss on his forehead. "I know sweetie, but sometimes we can’t avoid being sad. It is okay."
An awareness of being watched spiked up her spine. She could feel instead of actually see Oliver, but she knew he was outside the door.
She looked at Conner and smooth back the hair from his forehead. “There is nothing wrong in feeling sad, or lonely, we have to feel that every once and a while.”
Conner’s forehead crinkled, his little face confused. “But why, feeling sad sucks.”
She laughed, and swore she heard an similar sound outside the door.
"Yeah, it does suck." Oliver’s deep voice cut in, she turned and saw him lean against the door frame. His long body seemed relaxed as he crossed his arms across his chest, his face calm, but she could see a storm in his blue eyes.
"It does," she said, bent down and placed a kiss on Conner’s head. Her voice coming out softer than she intended,"But, we have to feel them because then we feel loved and happy, we know the difference."
The message was for both the Queen men.
Conner smiled, “I like that.” He yawned, then rolled over, “Night Dad, night Cici.”
"Good night Conner." Oliver said and walked over to his son and placed a kiss on his head.
He looked at her. Blue eyes dark. An extened hand came into her view.
She took it.
The warmth of his hand seeped into the skin and for a moment, she could pretend this was her house and the little adorable boy sleeping was her son. And the man pulling her down the hall, this wonderful, battered, beautiful man, was much more than her friend.
Oliver pulled them into the kitchen and let go of her hand.
She tried not the frown at the lost of the contact, but she noticed a slight frown on his face as his eyes left her’s.
Jeez, she really needed to get herself together. They won’t playing house and regardless whatever notions she had going, they weren’t a family. Not an real one at any rate.
"You really mean that?" His back was turned to her rumbling through the freezer and for a moment she wasn’t sure if she had spoken or out loud or if he had really asked the question.
"Um, what?" Her heart pounded hard against her chest. Please, oh please god, not the family bit.
He came back to the island in the middle of the room and placed down the ice cream and pulled out two spoons from the drawer.
"About feeling sad and lonely." He didn’t look at her, instead diving in to the ice cream, lifting his full spoon to his lips.
Felicity swallowed.
Focus on the question. Not the spoon.
"Of course." It was her turn to deflect. Taking a bit of ice cream from the carton, she was about to take a bite when she made the mistake of looking up and meeting his glaze.
Blue eyes, dark and swirling. She was good at reading Oliver but that particular look, she hadn’t seen for many, many months. A specific night- in the dark, in a empty mansion.
She kept the hold on his stare and opened her mouth to accept the spoon and the ice cream.
He didn’t blink.
Didn’t turn away.
A flare of heat slammed her when he swallowed at the sight of her closing her lips over the silverware.
Not breaking the connection. His eyes growing darker, the pulse in his neck increased.
She felt a drop on the ice cream on the edge of her mouth.
Felicity Smoak was not a flirt. Not a good one at any rate.
But in that moment a drum thundered in her ears and a rush of blood pulsed under her skin. A deep wild thing she didn’t even know existed roared to life.
She smirked and licked the bit off her mouth.