[He resents that, he's not melodramatic. He's... being cautious when no one else seems to want to be, doesn't see the danger the way he does, trusts people in ways that he is trying so hard to remember how to do but he's finding that he can't because that part of him is broken.
Oliver hides his scars under green leather, and pretends like he doesn't notice a thing. Doesn't notice when one of them starts to shift from an ugly bright red to black again because acknowledging it, even to himself means that it would be real and if it's real, there's no going back this time.
He keeps a close eye on Laurel when he can, he's worried about her more so than he usually is because she's been off kilter since Sara's death. He doesn't blame her for it, she loved her sister no matter what she said and they did just reunite and it was his fault really that they ever broke apart in the first place. He just-- he sees that fire in Laurel, the same one he knows he has, the one Sara had, and the last thing he wants is for Laurel to be burned by it. She doesn't deserve the scars, the heartbreak, the pain, she deserves to stay unblemished and he thinks he'd do anything to keep her that way.
Later, he'll realize that the best thing for her would've been to teach her himself, because he should've known that Laurel would go from person to person until she found one willing to train her. But for now he doesn't see that, thinks he's protecting her even if properly protecting her would mean staying away from her, but he's never been any good at that. Tonight he's not any better at it, landing on her fire escape with a soft thud before he knocks on her window.
Just your friendly neighborhood vigilante checking in to see how you're doing Laurel, no big deal.]
[Truth be told, if he'd been the one to train him, she wouldn't have progressed. She would've been another one in a line of women Oliver taught, she'd be in the same category as Helena, and Laurel wants that less than she wants her sister's killer brought to justice. (Killed. She wants him killed. The rage inside her hasn't shifted, not yet, but they're getting there.)
As it is, she's getting ahead just fine on her own, even if her knuckles itch from the inside of the gloves. She's distracted rubbing lotion on them, wondering if she needs to start investing in better concealer to cover them up at work, when the knock on her window makes her jump.
She gets off the couch and is at the window instantly, no attention paid to her arms being bare this time around, scar and black mark in full sight.]
[Oliver brushes past her into her apartment instead of lingering out in the open, since her fire escape is very well lit, good for security but not so much for a vigilante to be sneaking around.]
Uh, no. [Now that he's here, without a reason to be here really, in his leather and hood, he's suddenly a little awkward.]
[She closes the window, her brow furrowed at how him brushing past her brought up a shiver. This is not the time and place to shiver, Laurel, she thinks. But inevitably she ends up thinking about the last time he'd been in her apartment in the middle of the night...
And feels guilt-ridden for it. Because her sister's killer is still out there, and that had been the time she and Tommy could've been together, and she has better things to do than linger on Oliver.]
Why? There's nothing out to get me, surely you've got about a dozen neighbourhoods you should be checking on that are better than this.
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no subject
Oliver hides his scars under green leather, and pretends like he doesn't notice a thing. Doesn't notice when one of them starts to shift from an ugly bright red to black again because acknowledging it, even to himself means that it would be real and if it's real, there's no going back this time.
He keeps a close eye on Laurel when he can, he's worried about her more so than he usually is because she's been off kilter since Sara's death. He doesn't blame her for it, she loved her sister no matter what she said and they did just reunite and it was his fault really that they ever broke apart in the first place. He just-- he sees that fire in Laurel, the same one he knows he has, the one Sara had, and the last thing he wants is for Laurel to be burned by it. She doesn't deserve the scars, the heartbreak, the pain, she deserves to stay unblemished and he thinks he'd do anything to keep her that way.
Later, he'll realize that the best thing for her would've been to teach her himself, because he should've known that Laurel would go from person to person until she found one willing to train her. But for now he doesn't see that, thinks he's protecting her even if properly protecting her would mean staying away from her, but he's never been any good at that. Tonight he's not any better at it, landing on her fire escape with a soft thud before he knocks on her window.
Just your friendly neighborhood vigilante checking in to see how you're doing Laurel, no big deal.]
no subject
As it is, she's getting ahead just fine on her own, even if her knuckles itch from the inside of the gloves. She's distracted rubbing lotion on them, wondering if she needs to start investing in better concealer to cover them up at work, when the knock on her window makes her jump.
She gets off the couch and is at the window instantly, no attention paid to her arms being bare this time around, scar and black mark in full sight.]
What's wrong? Did you find any new lead?
no subject
Uh, no. [Now that he's here, without a reason to be here really, in his leather and hood, he's suddenly a little awkward.]
I just wanted to check on you.
no subject
And feels guilt-ridden for it. Because her sister's killer is still out there, and that had been the time she and Tommy could've been together, and she has better things to do than linger on Oliver.]
Why? There's nothing out to get me, surely you've got about a dozen neighbourhoods you should be checking on that are better than this.