By Maria Okumura
Oliver turns over on the large bed, noticing the absence of heat next to him.
The loud noise jostles him awake.
Oliver cautiously rushes out of bed and into the hall, unarmed but fully aware of the absence of his wife.
Knots turn in his stomach as he rushes down the all too familiar hall, towards the origin of the earlier noise.
A muffled scream from an all to familiar voice echos down the hall.
His skin turns cold and he feels as though he can't breathe because he recognized that voice.
Oliver whips around the corner, jumping into a fighting stance and bracing for anything he might see.
"Ah!" Felicity screams, startled by the sudden appearance of Oliver in the kitchen.
The small kitchen is covered in a mess of cooking ingredients and various dishes. The wall behind the oven is covered in a green goo of sorts that traces from the stove top to the ceiling.
Felicity Blushes a little, standing alone in the kitchen, her apron covered in more of the green goo.
"Good morning Oliver." she smiles and Oliver immediately feels a warmth rush through him.
"Felicity," he smiles and crosses the room, encasing her in his big arms lovingly. "I heard you scream."
"oh," she sinks into his hug, returning the gesture. "Sorry, burnt my hand."
Oliver looks her hand over carefully, raising an eyebrow in question as to how Felicity gained the small circle on her pinkie.
"Um," She looks around nervously, then points to a green cake sitting on the stove. "Happy birthday."
He chuckles lightly and looks around the kitchen once again.
"Thank you," He smiles, giving her a gentle kiss.
"Hey Felicity?" Oliver looks around again.
"How did you get cake mix on the ceiling?"