Maybe it was karma. Oliver wouldn't blame the universe or fate or the God's or whoever decided this was punishment enough for him and because of everything he's done wrong for the past years.

He's aware he's been nothing but a womanizer, jumping from girl to girl more often than not and never worrying about commitment, — why would he when he could have as many women as he wanted without having to restrict himself to just one? —.

Now, said trait was just biting him in the ass.

Out of everyone in the whole world he could've ever wanted as a lover, why did it had to be you, the only person he was sure he couldn't have? He didn't needed to ask you to have his answer, his reputation preceded him and he was certain you wouldn't even entertain the thought.

But God, he wished he at least had an opportunity, because he wanted you. It didn't mattered if you were ruining everything around him because he couldn't spend time with other women like he used to before because of your presence lingering in the confines of his mind and heart, or if he couldn't even touch other women now, he'd drop it all if you so much as hinted you could feel the same as him.

He wanted to scream against his hands, punch something, anything that could help him get rid of the sensation that spread through his chest and the fluttery feeling in his heart along the blush in his cheeks when he thought of you. Why did he had to fall in love with you?

And the worst part was that he most he could bring himself to be was just a gentleman, the friendly guy that he pretended to be around you as if you weren't squeezing his heart in your palm everytime you so much as breathed next to him. It was pathetic, he was pathetic.

But he couldn't erase the feelings that you ignited in him, they weren't leaving, and he figured, that they were going nowhere.