[Honestly, she doesn't want to let go, ever. She wants to keep holding him until everything is alright, but she knows that nothing will be alright just by hugs. Still, it's a good several minutes before she lets go, letting her hands slide down his arms in lingering contact.
Her eyes are fixated on his, brows furrowed and that crease between them present. She's searching, not for the Oliver of 2017, that doesn't matter, but for the emotion that she knows he's been hiding, that he's swallowed down into the depths of his soul because he has to take care of the team.]
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Her eyes are fixated on his, brows furrowed and that crease between them present. She's searching, not for the Oliver of 2017, that doesn't matter, but for the emotion that she knows he's been hiding, that he's swallowed down into the depths of his soul because he has to take care of the team.]
We should talk.