Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? - April 23, 2007
Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?
April 23, 2007
“Felicity....”
Oliver tried to swallow, but there was a lump permanently stuck in his throat. His chest felt empty... like he had no lungs to breathe, no heart to pump life through his veins, and the heaviness of... nothing weighed down upon him. They hadn't talked since Christmas. Hanukkah. Whatever. The holiday itself didn't matter; the distance did. Yet, Oliver had no one to blame but himself, because his anger towards Felicity had vanished just as quickly that night as it had materialized, and the only thing she had hurt was his pride. Oliver had avoided her nonetheless, though - not because he hadn't wanted to talk to her but because he didn't know what to say. Felicity's accusations had forced him to hold a mirror up to his own actions, and even Oliver had found them wanting. Instead of changing, however, or even apologizing, Oliver just pushed her further away. Oh, he still occasionally called her - drunk dialing her number in the middle of the night. Felicity always answered, but she never said anything. And neither did he. But now? Now, there was a truth he couldn't hide from; couldn't drink away, smoke away, fuck away, and the only person he wanted - no, needed - to talk to was the one person his words would perhaps disappoint the most, the one person he deserved the least.
That didn't stop him from calling her, though - not this time.
Instead of an apology, the only thing Oliver found himself capable of saying was a plea. “Felicity, please.”
CONTINUED HERE.