Felicity's Fury and Oliver's Green Notebook

Chapter 4

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Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he waited and watched her bite her bottom lip, watched her frown deeply and look over her glasses at him and not say ONE single word.

His gut tightened and he felt about eight again, and Raisa'd just busted him stealing cookies before one of his mother's endless dinner parties. The one's where children were seen and not heard.

The longer she stood quietly frowning up at him, the more he wanted this encounter over with sooner not later, and his discomfort made his words harsh, "What are you waiting for? Get it over with, Felicity. Just say whatever you've come to say, since it must have been important enough to get you out before dawn dressed in your PJs."

With a toss of her blonde head, she gave him a small smile, as he attempted to read her face but came up totally empty. But he noted she twisted her hands, as she said, "I haven't been to bed, and it's not like you haven't seen them before, so don't distract me. I didn't have time to change. What happened to your phone, Oliver?"

"It's gone." He said the words quietly, refusing to meet her questioning eyes. However, he fought the lump in his throat, remembering quiet nights spent together, where he taken those very PJ's off of her and touched her silky bare skin and breathed her scent in. Darkly, he shut the memory off, wondering how long he'd survive this breakup.

And he found himself hoping not for long.

He understood he'd never recover from loving her, so it would be better to make this last conversation quick and to the point. What he needed to do was rip the bandage off savagely and end this painful relationship once and for all.

"Gone as in you lost it? Or gone as in you didn't play the bill?" Tilting her head at him, she snapped her fingers before she pointed her finger at him. "I know gone as in poof your phone magically disappeared!"

Looking away, he refused his smile, though he found his lips wanted to curve up, and he found himself thinking why does she have to be this darn cute? This breaking up thing would be a lot easier on him if she didn't touch something deep inside him, some emotion he'd honestly, at one time, had believed he didn't still possess.

But now he knew better.

Not only had did he have emotions, they were ragged raw emotions, open wounds that seemed intent on bleeding him dry. He found his emotions lay open like gaping sores, and he wished he could go back to when he didn't think any emotion existed within him, back before she'd entered his life and taught him how to feel again, to love again, and heaven help him, to hurt again.

And this would be a lot easier if you didn't love her, didn't miss her, and didn't completely need her, his mind whispered, and he bit his lip hard, almost brought blood, as he told himself to shut up because they were done as a couple.

He'd decided.

"Come on, Oliver. You keep promising to be truthful to me but instead you do your normal shut down? So, put up or shut up. I dare you. Tell the truth for once. What happened to your phone?"

He wanted to be truthful and tell her that what he wanted to shut down his stupid heart, tell her she was killing him and that his heart felt bruised and ached and hurt continuously without her. But he pushed those thoughts away, knowing his words would give her more ammo, enable her to hurt him even more, instead, he said, "No magic this time, my phone's gone as in around three a.m., I stomped it into tiny pieces."

Her face fell and his heart ached more than it already did, as she said, "Oliver, you know it hurts my heart when a piece of tech dies needlessly. How can you say that matter-of-factly? You make it sound like you destroy your cell phone every day. I know you better than that. Destroying your phone isn't you. You're not like that. Why would you do that?"