@lylaquinn

        “-- -- -- hey.”

Oliver could see the hurt clear in her eyes last night when he let her walk away from him. That was his first mistake. It was clear his actions prior to being with the woman hurt her and nothing could take that image from him despite how desperately he wished he could un-see it. Last night he was filled with more confusion than anything else and Oliver couldn’t understand why she was so upset over something that happened before she was even in the picture but when she had walked away from him and the sting took hold, he could tell this was about so much more. There was no way he was just going to give up on her, not like this. Not when he could show her she was more than just a number to him and he wasn’t doing this to add another forbidden night as a notch under his belt. There has to be a cooling off period for her, one that allowed him to think and her to do the same before he reached out again despite how badly he wanted to just use his connections and find his way to her apartment. No. He was more clever than that. During the day he had been hard at work figuring out just how to go about this but he knew while she was on the clock was out of the question. A man wouldn’t be the reason she sat home on her couch either. When Oliver had his plan set in motion he sat back and watched it unfold. Having prepared the evening with a little help, he made certain that when she entered her place, it was covered in rose petals and various sizes of candles littered every shelf and table top he could find providing their only light. Two plates sat on her table with two long candles lit, casting light on the food he actually cooked, albeit burnt and probably inedible but cooked by him nonetheless. The petals lead into her room though he wasn’t found in there, rather he stood in the middle of it all dressed in jeans, a dress shirt, tie and a blazer as he held a rose to meet her eyes when she entered. “Hey you.” @lylaquinn

Oliver: Figured we can do something exciting outside of Whitehill?

After particularly stressful days Oliver could always find himself the most solace in the gym. After a special request of his was granted, he generally ended each workout on the salmon ladder. As made his way up his last rep, he was so lost in the adrenaline rush he hadn’t heard the woman walk in.

truth be told, he wasn’t really even in a bar at the very moment as his fat, clumsy fingers tapped noiselessly at the screen. light illuminating his features in the dark alleyway, he slips his phone back into his pocket and lights another cigarette. what was he thinking? to be fair, he wasn’t really thinking at all. all he had was a head full of the images of her, her blonde hair, the way she’s laugh at something stupid he’d done, the way she smelled every time she cuddled closer into his chest. god. this was his punishment wasn’t it? for all those things he had done. he curses and pulls another drag.