Straight Shot ➳ Oliver Queen

14. The Proposal

C H A P T E R    F O U R T E E N

THE PROPOSAL

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A/N: This chapter's a bit sappy for me... I might end up rewriting it.

Walter popped the cork on a bottle of expensive champagne and an audience gathered in the grand foyer of the Queen's home clapped their hands together. We had returned from the Queen Consolidated building several hours ago, excluding Tommy, who had rushed off for some important errand he wouldn't tell us about. I had texted him a couple times, but he wouldn't respond. After the third text, I left my phone in the Queen's guest room since I didn't have pockets in the sleek black dress I had changed into for the party.

The party was to celebrate Oliver's official confirmation of being back from the dead, though most of the guests were people Oliver didn't even know. I knew a few big names that made an appearance at the party, but they were mostly associates of Moira, Walter, and Robert.

Parties aren't really my thing, and they never have been, even when I was a teenager. Of course, this was a conflict of interest as my best friends, Tommy and Oliver, were infamous for their insane parties. I was always extended an invitation, and usually, I would make a quick appearance, but I usually ended up finding a way to slip out or coming up with an excuse for why I had to leave.

This evening was no different. The colossal number of men in suits and women in classy cocktail dresses was overwhelming. There were too many people in the room and it was becoming claustrophobic to me.

I did my best to avoid being drawn into a conversation with anyone and took a seat near the top of the stairs, observing what was going on below in the foyer. The wealthy guests had grouped themselves into small bunches and were reciting the same stories I had heard party after party since I was little. They were all the same, even person to person, their stories were just small variants of each other's. It was boring, honestly.

"Thirsty?" I was distracted from people watching by a person standing a couple stairs down. I looked up to see Oliver. He was still dressed in the suit he had been wearing earlier and was holding a glass in each of his hands.

He handed me one of the glasses and sat on the step next to me after I had accepted it. I took a small sip, expecting some sort of alcoholic beverage like the ones being served by waiters that were wading through the crowd with round trays. I giggled when I tasted soda a familiar soda instead of some fancy cocktail. "Diet root beer." I recognized, the nostalgically sweet taste lingering in my mouth. "I can't believe you remember after five years."

"Of course I remember." Oliver chuckled. "It's your favorite. It was the only soda your dad would let you and Harley drink when you were kids." He recited and memories flashed through my mind, specifically going to the beach with a cooler of cans of diet root beer.

"Oliver Queen, you really are something," I commented, shaking my head. "So why aren't you mingling? I'm sure I'm extremely boring compared to all these people."

"Actually, they're the boring ones," Oliver replied. "Besides. I'm not exactly in a 'celebrating' mood." His tone and expression became somber and he directed his gaze towards the glass in his hand. "I guess a party celebrating me coming back just reminds me that my father isn't."

"I'm sorry, Oliver," I said softly, comfortingly laying my hand on his knee. He didn't respond and we just sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Oliver looked towards me.

"Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe get something to eat?" He offered, a smile reemerging on his face.

"I'd love to," I responded.