Unmistakable Love

Chapter 25- Rain Dance

"Can we just forget about it.. I would like to actually accomplish something today," I exclaim, realizing how little work I have done in the arrow lair.

Oliver keeps his head straight, but looks at me in the corner of his eye. He looks as if he feels a deep something in his chest, and his eyes droop sadly, mirroring his back. 

I ignore it, knowing that he's feeling worried for me. I honestly cannot begin to describe how I feel to myself, let alone someone else. Everything is jumbled up; my imagination, what I think could have happened, and my worries.

The worst feeling in the world is not knowing if something happened to you. It's the same as if someone were to imply something could have happened to you, but only you can figure out if it did or not, yet you can't remember the situation at all... you can just picture it and imagine 200 different ways it could have happened.

It's not like I can tell anyone. They just won't understand. They will make me go to an AA meeting or something, which I don't need, and I definitely don't need therapy. I feel safe around them, but theres an imaginary cloud of urgency and panic around situations where you don't know if it actually happened or not. Just the image of telling them sends a string of panic swaying through my chest, and I feel nauseous. 

I realize that I'm noticeably staring into space, frozen into an awkward position, and I quickly twitch into a new position and steal a glance at Oliver, who is already looking at me. The worried look on his face tell me that he cares for me, and my cheeks heat slightly. My heart fuzzily glows inside, feeling safe, cared for and noticed in this moment. He takes a step closer to me, and I keep my gaze on him, subconsciously flaring my nostrils and refusing to blink.

I feel an imagined, reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I lean into it. It reminds me of my mother, and for a split second, I forget that all of this happened and I'm back in my apartment, sitting on the couch, wasted out of my mind.

I snap back to reality when I feel a real  hand on my shoulder, replacing the made up one. I glance up, and Oliver stares up at me, leans down to my level, and kisses my forehead. His eyes hold so much emotion, his face is chiseled and masculin, and he places his other hand on my cheekbone and caresses the indent.

"Felicity," he says slowly, like he is scared of the words. I wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. He leans his forehead against mine, and a warm tear transfers from his face onto mine.

Why is he so worried? Why is he crying?

"I love you," he says the words like they've been bouncing on his tongue for years.

I nod, not able to speak, and a tear escapes my eye as well. 

He slowly and carefully tilts his head and leans into my lips, moving like a cloud of mist.

Feeling safe, I blurt out what has been bugging me for hours, and immediately regret it, "I'm scared."

Oliver leans away to inspect my face, and grasps my hands in his strongly. "What's wrong."

I close my eyes for a second too long, but I manage to say it anyway, "I had a dream, or a memory, I don't know what it was..." My voice slowly fades away.

"What was it," Oliver asks.

I wait a few seconds, preparing myself and letting him prepare himself. "I think... I... I think I might've... taken something." My breath hitches on the thought, and a lump in my throat drags my voice down, muffling it.

There's a glisten in Oliver's eye. "Like what."

"Do you count the pills in your bathroom," I ask, hoping that he does somehow.