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He was getting married today.
Oliver Jonas Queen, son of Robert and Moria Queen, was getting married to the love of his life in exactly 5 hours.
He would stop grinning if he could, really. But he just couldn't.
“Stop it.” He heard from his lap and looked down to his bride, her hair covering her eyes as she rested her head on his thighs. His smile got even bigger.
“Stop what?” He asked, gently running his hands over the hair resting on his knees. She groaned and he fought down the chuckle fighting to break through.
“You know what.” She huffed, rubbing her temples with her pointer fingers and he felt a surge of sympathy.
“If I knew what, then I wouldn't ask, now would I?” He tried to reason with her, but as he was learning, there were just times when that wasn't possible.
“Your face.” She said simply as she pulled herself reluctantly from her position and sat up to grab a bottle of water from the mini bar on the other side of the limo. If he wasn't so confused by her accusation then he would have felt bad when the car came to a stop at a red light and she groaned, fighting a wave of nausea.
“My-my face? Stop my face?” He asked bewildered.
“Exactly. Stop it.” She nodded, gulping down her water and leaning her back against the opposite door, her cheek against the cool glass of the window.
“I'm sorry, how exactly am I supposed to 'stop my face'?” He was wondering if maybe she was still a little drunk.
“You're over there all grinning and just handsome and perfect and I'm over here all blotchy and hungover. This is not okay. So I need you to not look like you. It's rude and I don't appreciate it.” She told him, her eyes closed and her hands waving in his general direction and he laughed quietly.
“Felicity, hon, this is not my fault. You're the one that let Speedy take you out the night before the wedding. I told you that you should've had the party last weekend.” He tried to reason, but saw the error he made when she opened her eyes to glare at him. Even in her current state, her glare was pretty intimidating.
“Really, Oliver? That's what you're going to go with? Right now?” She asked snappishly and he had to smile.
This was the first day of the rest of their lives and he couldn't be happier. No matter what, this was the happiest he could ever remember feeling.
“If it helps at all, I think you look beautiful. Even with the bloodshot eyes.” He told her honestly, reaching over to take the empty bottle from her and replaced it with another.
“I'm going to kill your sister.” She groaned, twisting the cap of the bottle.
“After the ceremony. You can't kill the maid of honor before the wedding. It's bad luck.”