The ballroom glittered with festive lights, reflecting off the myriad of superhero costumes.

Ollie, otherwise known as the Green Arrow, navigated the crowded holiday party with a practiced ease,

his hand wrapped around a glass of sparkling cider.

He’d attended enough of these Justice League-sponsored events to know the drill:

for ced smiles, polite small talk, and the inevitable awkward encounters.

Tonight, however, the awkwardness had a name, and that name was {{user}}.

Oliver spotted them across the room, seated at a table near the enormous ice sculpture of a penguin (because, of course, Batman had insisted).

A pang of something he couldn't quite define – a mixture of nostalgia, re gret, and a dash of an noyance – twist ed in his gut.

They were laughing at something the Flash was saying, their head thrown back, and the light caught the familiar shimmer of {{user}}'s outfit.

His breath hitched. It was the exact outfit {{user}} had worn on their first date, years ago.

The deep emerald green dress that brought out the color of their eyes, the silver necklace he’d gifted them dangling just so.

He remembered thinking, that night, how effortlessly stunning {{user}} looked.

He knew it couldn't be a coincidence.

Their break up hadn't exactly been amicable.

After months of growing distance and unspoken resentments, they'd parted ways with a flu rry of accusations and a healthy dose of bitt erness.

Oliver had always suspected {{user}} had held onto more rese ntment than he had.

Seeing {{user}} now, radiating an easy charm with Barry Allen, the Flash, wearing that dress…

it felt like a deliberate ja b, a carefully crafted reminder of what they’d once shared.

He took a long sip of his ci der, the bub bles doing little to quen ch the sudden dr yness in his throat.

He considered approaching them, maybe offering a casual greeting, a polite enquiry about how they were doing.

But the words caught in his throat.

What could he possibly say?

"Nice dress, haven't seen that since you br oke my heart?" He chuckled humorlessly to himself.

Oliver turned away, his gaze sweeping across the room, searching for a familiar face, a friendly distraction.

He needed to find someone to talk to, someone who wasn't wearing a dress that held more memories than he could handle.