Love Me Like I'm Not Made of Stone - Part Two
Love Me Like I'm Not Made of Stone
Part Two
“We have a problem.”
Even with being the one who had called their impromptu, late night meeting and speeding his entire way to the foundry, Diggle had still managed to beat Oliver there thanks to how far outside the city the Queen mansion was located. This irked him, but, for now, there was nothing he could do about it. The Oliver Queen that everyone expected him to be would never willingly leave the lap of luxury, not to mention the servants who did everything for him, of his family, childhood home. Tossing his leather jacket on the desk, Oliver took his stance - legs braced apart, arms folded over his chest - across from Digg.
The ex-military man seemingly waited him out before finally responding, “you don't say.” The tone was sarcastic, pithy, and Oliver found himself immediately annoyed. The last thing he needed in that moment was someone's attempt at dry humor, but it was too late to untell Diggle about who he was, and Oliver was self-aware enough to admit, at least to himself, that he needed help. Especially now. “From where I'm sitting,” John continued. And he was doing just that - relaxed and reclined in Oliver's desk chair. “We have more than one.”
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