Home: An Arrow Fanfic

Chapter 13

Felicity stepped back from Oliver, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. The surprise that briefly flashed in his eyes indicated that her sudden extrication hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Laurel," he said, kissing her cheek. She gave him a broad, sweeping smile that lit up her face.

Never one to forget his manners, Oliver introduced them. Felicity had never seen Laurel Lance up close, but she was familiar with her work as a human rights attorney specialising in legal aid for the less fortunate.

"Hi," Laurel said, looking at Felicity curiously. Despite her friendly demeanour, Felicity could tell that Laurel was trying to figure out where she fit into the picture.

"Hey," Felicity replied, with a mini wave. She said the first thing that came to mind. "I…uh…liked the article you did for the Times last week."

Laurel beamed. "Thank you. Working cases that involve the destitute is the most rewarding for me."

Felicity nodded. She didn't know what else to say.

"I just saw Thea casting daggers at the violinist," Laurel laughed as she glanced in the direction she'd come from. They'd moved to stand at the edge of the dance floor.

Oliver smiled. "My sister's taste in music is a little less refined than everyone else here."

Felicity drowned out the sound of their conversation as she watched them, her fragile self-esteem taking a nose dive. They looked so natural together, familiarity evident in their relaxed smiles and easy body language. To her, the outsider, they looked like the perfect couple – Oliver, so handsome and self-assured and Laurel, the perfect mixture of beauty and brains. Felicity couldn't even dislike her on principal; she was practically a saint.

She watched as they greeted a couple who passed them by. This was their world.

She suddenly felt awkward and uncomfortable. How had she, for even a second, believed that a new dress and fancy hairdo could place her in Laurel Lance's stratosphere? In her black, beaded, off the shoulder gown, she made elegance and class look effortless. In comparison, Felicity hadn't even been able to choose a dress on her own. It hurt.

She felt the prickle of hot tears in the back of her throat and she swallowed them, refusing to humiliate herself.

"Err...I'm going to the ladies. Excuse me." Oliver called after her as she fled, but she didn't care. She needed to get some air and the further away from Oliver and the perfect Miss Lance, the better.

Oliver watched as Felicity hastened toward the exit. She'd gone quiet the second Laurel had joined them. He'd initially assumed that she was letting them catch up, but seeing the stiffness in her shoulders as she'd passed him, he wondered if it was something else.

"New girlfriend?" Laurel asked.

Distracted, Oliver took a moment before answering. "No. Felicity is a friend."

"Since when are you friendly with wide-eyed does?" Laurel seemed sceptical.

Oliver looked at her. She was a beautiful woman and there'd been a time when all he'd ever wanted was to be with her. Maybe if he'd never run scared and had an affair with her sister, they might still have been together. They may even have gotten married eventually. But that time was long gone and despite her forgiveness, too much had happened in their past for them to ever go back. While he would always care for her, he was no longer in love with her.

It struck him as interesting that he'd only realised the truth of his feelings once he'd developed others for a certain nerdy blonde.

"I'm not the same person I was, Laurel," he said softly, watching her expression change to contrition.