The sound of Megan Thee Stallion‘s voice boomed through the room, ringing in Oliver’s ears as he stared down at his bloodied hand. People crowded around them and he grit his teeth, stilling completely when he felt a gentle hand against his arm. He looked like a startled woodland creature, the way he glanced at Claire then ducked his head as she urged him to push through the crowd, passing some asshole with their flash blinding him momentarily. He shoved past as best he could, clearing the way for the blonde to follow behind him. Instinct took him forward, but it was her that led the way to the bathroom, Cooper’s voice angry behind them, but his ass was still planted on the floor and Oliver doubted he would come after them. He elected to block it out, to focus on the hand that seemed to be burning his skin. He was so hyperaware of her touch that it almost hurt and once he was slumping against a bathroom counter, he finally allowed himself a glance at her. She was wearing a worried look, bathed in fluorescent light that somehow only made her look more celestial. “I’m sorry.” He choked out. The bathroom door blocked out most of the noise from the party, but it still slipped underneath the crack in the door, reminding him of where he was and the fact that he’d just punched his best friend. “I shouldn’t have... shit, I mean, he had it coming, but not with you there. You didn’t need to see me like that.” Once again his gaze had travelled elsewhere, staring at a tiny bug on the wall.