✖ kill them with kindness.

Making his way towards the diner Marisol worked at, Oliver’s thoughts were running wild. He’d been up memorising floor plans and guest details for a Hydra event in a couple of days, and he was so sick of staring at the same words and drawings over and over. The event was still a couple of days away, and he nearly knew it all by heart by now anyways, so he didn’t think he was doing anything wrong by taking a small break. He hadn’t let anyone know where he was going, though, and made sure no one was following him. As much as he enjoyed the break from his usual life, he didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing. Or rather, who he was meeting. 

A couple of minutes later, he made it to the diner, stepping inside. Oli made his way to his usual seat — at the far end of the diner, with his back against the wall. It was the only place he had a view of the entire room in case anything were to happen — old habits die hard — and it was also the spot where he could often easily spot Marisol. 

At first, after meeting her in the diner, Oli had tried to stay away. He knew her associating with him would do nothing but put her in harm’s way. That had proven to be easier said than done, however, because as much as he might not have wanted to, he really enjoyed her company. It was refreshing with someone who didn’t know who he was, with someone who didn’t know all the blood that stained his hands. She was his connection to the normal world, and over the past couple of months, they’d gotten to know each other quite a bit thanks to his frequent visits here. 

Marisol was working today too — after all, that was the only times he ever showed up here — and his gaze found her the second she exited the kitchen and started moving to deal with some customers. She looked as beautiful as ever, even hours into her shift, and Oli had to remind himself not to stare. They were just friends, him and Marisol, not even that close, but it was a long time since he’d looked at someone and seen them as something else than a target, or a piece of the puzzle. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but she intrigued him, and no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t keep himself away from her. 

“Your regular is back, Mari.” she heard Tessa’s teasing voice whispering in her ear as the other woman passed the brunette, carrying a tray of dirty dishes into the kitchen as Marisol herself just exited with a tray of her own that held several drinks. She merely smiled, shaking her head at her friends eager involvement in what she called the start of Marisol’s very own Cinderella story. However, Marisol didn’t pay any of it too much attention. After all, there was also a time when Tessa warned her that she might end up in the news as the umpteenth murder victim of a serial killer. With Tessa it was always either one extreme or the other. While Marisol just appreciated his company and the fact that he was respectful unlike some other guests that found themselves in their diner. She didn’t want her thoughts to go any further because her luck with guys was usually non-existent if one took a look at her track record that compiled fuck ups, junkie and abusive shits.

Once she served the drinks she walked back into kitchen, leaving the tray there before straightening her apron a little which was part of her work attire. “And I can assure you he’s not here for the tuna. No matter what he tells you. It sucked yesterday. It sucks today. And it will suck tomorrow. Am I right, Larry?” she asked the chef – who had no skills accredited by the state to call him such but they all just rolled with it – who barked an “Aye!” before flashing them both a grin. “Can you both just mind your own business? Just once?” Marisol asked, despite the smile that appeared on her lips, genuinely amused by the fact that they just kept digging even though she knew for a fact that they wouldn’t find what they were looking for.

Sure, he seemed nice, he was easy on the eye and so far all their conversations had been quite pleasant and showed her that he could not only hold a conversation but also her interest. But she doubted that he didn’t have a girlfriend waiting for him somewhere. Because so far he seemed like a decent guy, and those were always taken. Again ... not that she was looking. “I don’t want to hear another word.” she said and pointed at the two of them, her accent accompanying her words before she finally walked out of the kitchen again, approaching his table.

“Hi there, stranger.” she greeted him, a soft smile tugging on the corners of her lips as she set a complimentary glass of water on his table which she once advised him from drinking as it came from the tap. “Same as usual? Or is today the day when you finally decide to spice it up a little.” she asked, even though she doubted it. But who knew, maybe she’d be surprised.