You Found Me: An Arrow Fanfic

Chapter 4

A/N: Australian slang:

Piece of piss: an easy task

Laurel lead the way into her apartment wondering, not for the first time, what she'd been thinking when she'd offered to take the stoic man beside her in. He hadn't said much on the drive over and his lack of communication was setting her nerves on edge.

She couldn't believe she'd lost her temper like that – and in front of an audience to boot. She was usually the calm, unflappable one. But in no time at all, he'd managed to creep under her skin, making her to say things she'd never have said under normal circumstances.

"Well, this is it," she said, a little too cheerfully. "Not exactly up to Queen standards, but it's home."

He looked at her without any expression on his face. "It's fine."

Unable to stand the tension, she removed her jacket and hung it on the coat stand before turning to face him. He was standing awkwardly in front of the door, his backpack at his feet, looking around.

"Slade, look, I know we got off on the wrong foot and I want to apologise for some of the things I said."

Perhaps if they started over, she might feel a little better about their current arrangement. The one she'd suggested.

He just kept looking at her, not saying anything.

She felt her irritation rise again and took a calming breath. "Aren't you going to apologise as well?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What for? I didn't say anything that I didn't mean."

She turned around, gritting her teeth. She would not sink to his level.

"Right. Now that we have that out of the way, let me show you to your room."

She gestured for him to follow her, not really caring if he did or didn't.

Standing in the hallway, she pointed to the various doors branching off. "Through there is the kitchen, my room, bathroom, your room."

He nodded, walking into the room she'd indicated would be his.

"Feel free to use whatever you want and if you need anything, let me-"

Without hearing her out or saying a single word, he closed the door behind him with a soft click, effectively leaving her gawking after him.

At first she felt confused, then she felt stupid and then she felt angry. This was her home, which she'd invited him to stay in for his own safety and he didn't even have the decency to thank her? Where had he acquired such boorish manners?

Incensed, she made a snap decision and barged into his room. "If this arrangement is going to wor-" Her words cut off as her eyes widened, staring at him.

He was standing with his back to her, his pants riding low on his hips, his hoodie thrown carelessly on the bed. His broad, muscular back was covered with angry criss-crossing scars, barely an inch of skin left unmarred. Some areas were still raw. She'd stumbled in on him trying to apply some anti-septic liquid to his wounds.

In the back of her mind she remembered what Oliver had told her about Slade's time on the island and the last few years that he'd been held prisoner. He hadn't elaborated much, only giving her pertinent information, but she could tell that it hadn't been sunshine and roses.

The irrefutable evidence of his pain and suffering caught her unaware and hit her straight at her emotional core. She felt a lump in her throat as her eyes met his tumultuous gaze.