this love will be the death of me (but i know i'll die happily).

ollie & agate.

A/N: This is dedicated to my fabulous online twin, Amburger Dearest - happy official year of me discovering your account! Thanks for sticking around, and, as a present, take this poorly edited, unrevised oneshot of the greatest ship in history!

P.S. I'll long be asleep by the time you wake and see this, but in advance, I apologise for the awful layout of this story. Ao3 is extremely convenient, but this was more a Wattpad story! It's only fitting that since these characters were born here, that they get a chance to grow and develop here, too! 

Also, I sincerely apologise for the typos and possible incoherence of the story. As I write the author's notes, it's 2:24 AM in my time, and I thought this genuinely made sense. Like, I woke up at eleven after falling asleep for an hour (having napped this afternoon), planned this out, and wrote it as if it was the best idea ever. So, oops?

Anyway, enjoy?

~

To say that it was raining was quite the euphemism.

The storm itself was as if someone had inverted the world so that all the oceans rested above them, and then had promptly flipped it back to watch the water come pummelling down in roars that didn't even include the thunder.

Oliver's awake after the first flash of lightning. The streetlight outside his window is quite dim amidst the haze of the storm, and whatever light that's being produced outside at 11:36 at night is greedily captured and barely reflected by the droplets of water that have been resting on the sill.

Blinking his eyes rapidly to expel any extra sleepiness from them, Ollie sits up, taking a peek at the girl sitting next to him. Even in the dark, the boy can see Agate's dark hair is down and loose, gently spread over her pillow as she shifts slightly at the loss of the extra warmth.

Lightning strikes again, and Oliver decides to whisper a count to himself to trace how close the heart of the storm was to them. He reaches four before he registers the brief flash of light on the edge of the bedspread and hears the clap of thunder following. Frowning, he tries again.

"One, two, thr-"

Lightning again, followed by thunder. Ollie decides that it's best to unplug the appliances at this point, and, quietly, he slips out of bed. Agate shifts again as the bed eases from the loss of extra weight, and he knows he only has a few seconds before she wakes up. Unplugging the alarm clock (that he kept mostly for courtesy; Agate enjoyed naturally waking up early, anyway) and the chargers from the nightstand, the currently blue-eyed man decides to open the bedroom door a crack until he slips into the kitchen, unplugging the toaster and double-checking the lights were off and the flashlights and candles were in the drawers when the power outage was sure to hit.

His eyes rest on a picture frame above the dining table - an old picture of him and Agate, plus their friends Ev and London, who'd insisted that having a picnic was one of the most intelligent date ideas they'd ever done.

"Can't go wrong with the classics, de Ravin!"

Even if it'd only been two months since Agate and Oliver had moved in together, the quaint house they owned was well-loved, encircled with warmth and a strange sort of comfort that Oliver took to describing as 'a comfort blanket'.