Chapter Six

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Dammit, he thought no-one was there. He straightened up again. "Yeah it's me," he said, his voice cracking throughout the whole sentence. Then he coughed quietly, trying to clear his throat.

"Oh Oliver, you sound terrible!" Felicity exclaimed, coming over to him.

"No, really," he said. He felt like shit, but he sure as hell wasn't going to admit that to Felicity, "I'm fine." His voiced caught again on "fine" and he started coughing involuntarily.

"Oliver," she said, sliding her hands into his, "you can tell me."

"It's just allergies," Oliver said with a thick sniff. "I'm fine."

It wasn't just allergies, he was sick and they both knew it. Maybe it was only a cold or something but how could she know if he wouldn't admit it. Maybe he was really sick. She was tired of hearing "I'm fine," that was all he ever said. Every morning she asked him how he was feeling and every morning he replied with some variation of "I'm fine." Maybe it was different with the disgustingly rich people he usually conversed with, but when she asked him, she asked because she cared, not for courtesy.

"Well, sorry for asking. I won't bother you again." With that she turned back to her computers. At least they wouldn't brush her off.

Oliver opened his mouth to stop her, but thought better of it. He felt bad about upsetting her, but he didn't want her to worry about him. Plus, if he'd told her how bad he was feeling, they would probably just get into an argument about why he should go home and rest. As if his headache wasn't bad enough already.

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