-mystarsandmyocean: "You named her Felicity. Happiness."
"I did," the woman says, taking a long draw on a cigarette. "I was reading a novel at the time. It seemed…. hopeful. Of course, then we noticed she was…. different, you know? Smart. Like her father. And then he ran out. Wasn’t much hope after that."
Oliver nods. “She’s… something, though.”
"You think so? She babbles."
"I like it."
Felicity’s mother raises an eyebrow. “You like it?”
"Well, now." She puts out her cigarette. "There’s something.”
Do not, I mean it, Do not imagine your OTP in the kitchen cooking breakfast together, one standing at the stove as the other is hugging them from behind, resting their heads on the back of their neck and stealing sleepy kisses. I promise this will cause fluffy-cuteness overload and it’s not good for your health.