Her green eyes are fixed on his face and she swears there’s something
so familiar about him. She holds her handbag in a white knuckle grip,
still shaken from the attack which he had saved her from. Lips pull into
a small smile at his words, and she moves closer, eyebrows pulling
together in concern at the sight of his split lip. Leah can feel her heart
hammering in her chest as he removes his mask and hood, only
confirming her suspicions. “Oliver.” His name is hushed upon her lips
and she raises a hand to gently rest it against his cheek, thumb brushing
over his cheekbone, “you’re hurt. I don’t live far from here, and I have a
first aid kit at home. Let me help you.”