Oliver walked in a little stresse, tired. The heavy door swung shut with a soft click behind him.
The silence of the house pressed in, dim and still. He tugged at his tie, shoulders heavy with the weight of the day.
All he wanted was Athena, just her.
But no sign of her in the living room, though. The couch was empty, the lamp off. His lips tugged into a half-smile anyway, the kind that held exhaustion but also hunger. She's probably in her room… waiting.
His mind wandered without permission. God, he just wanted to sink into her tonight. To pull her into his lap, bury his face against her neck, inhale her scent until he forgot every meeting, every cruel word, every scar the day had pressed into him. Sleep in her arms or maybe not sleep at all.
