Arrow in My Heart // Green Arrow Fanfic

-19. 3827 -

It's a short chapter, but I hope you guys still enjoy it!

Neither Thea's car nor Oliver's motorcycle was in the driveway of the Queen mansion, but I decided to knock anyway. When no one answered, I cautiously let myself in, pulling my phone out to text Thea. 

But before I could do so, raised voices came from upstairs. I shifted from foot to foot, debating whether or not to just leave. But the voices came closer. 

"-if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times." Moira's heels clicked and clacked as she came down the stairs, Malcolm Merlyn of all people right at her heels. "We had an agreement, and you'd better stick to-" She saw me standing in the entryway. "Eva."

"Hello, Mrs. Queen. Is Thea here?"

"No, she isn't." Her words were clipped and impatient, making me feel like I'd broached propriety. 

"Do you know where she could be?" 

"Perhaps out with her friends."

I glanced up the stairs towards Oliver's room. "Is Oliver here?"

Malcolm looked pointedly at Moira, but she didn't look his direction. She just narrowed her eyes and folded her arms in front of her.

I got the distinct feeling that if I didn't leave her and Tommy's father alone, there would be consequences. "You know, I just remembered I have an errand to run. Sorry to bother you."

Neither of them said anything as I turned a 180 and quickly left the house. Immediately after the door closed, I could hear raised voices behind me. 

What were they talking about?

I knew that the Merlyns and the Queens were closely connected, particularly their wealth and assets, but I wondered what business the two of them had this late at night that would make them so charged and emotional. 

Then again, money was personal. 

I glanced up at Oliver's window. The light was off, so he was most likely out being the Hood, doing dangerous things. Or he was at Verdant. 

Before my brain could catch up, my hands turned the keys in the ignition and my seatbelt was on.

A certain vigilante lair was calling my name.

...

There was some transgressive party going on when I passed through the club towards the door that led to the basement. I tried to keep my eyes trained on the floor, away from the suggestively clothed dancers and their intentionally titllating moves. My skin prickled with discomfort as I considered the type of men I was pushing past. 

3827.

I punched in the code, half hoping it wouldn't work and I would have an excuse to turn around and leave.

But the door opened with a click, dashing my selfish hopes like a glass thrown on the ground. 

What could I even say?

Not only had I not answered the door, but he'd seen me right before I didn't answer his text. There was no way he'd misunderstood, as the deserted flowers in the parking lot proved. 

Using Fiddler as an excuse wasn't right; it was my choice. I doubted Oliver would care that Fiddler had intentionally created a situation in which I'd felt like I had to ignore him.

I took a deep breath as I slid through the door, trepidation gilding my stomach.

I found the courage to climb down the stairs, but a sweep of the room told me Oliver wasn't here. I couldn't see any sign of his suit or bow either. He must've been out on a mission.