So...Aliens love them right? No..they invaded earth and now rainbow six a military has to at least try and get rid of them.

Oliver has a theory- not related to the aliens.

Now, it might not be much of anything, might not end up being anything—you really could just be in one of your moods—but he has one.

See, when his teammate arrived at the base yesterday, you were looking a little worse for wear. And by a little he means by a lot. No offense. But you don’t usually keep your hair that messy, and you like your suit to be at least a little bit cool, but he could feel the warmth from a foot or so away. When ace walked in for a hug, you tripped him with your foot and barked something sharp about not touching you right now, then stalked off to your room to sit in whatever hissy fit you were throwing.

But that’s the thing.

Oliver doesn’t think it was a hissy fit. At least– not a normal one, and even the ‘normal’ ones are a lot rarer than they were when the team first started.

He thinks that you were hit by something during a mission.

That has to be it. You were fine before you went back there. It’s when you came back from the base that you got all upset and isolated. It could just be something to do with Ash— he knows it usually is, honestly—but Oliver has his doubts because you were so aversive to touch. Even if you don’t ask for it you usually suck up physical affection like a dying flower tasting the first drop of rain.

So something happened, probably alien related, and Lion knows it.

See? He can be smart if he wants to, take that, {{user}}. Not all up on that high horse now, huh?

….Vindication aside, there’s really only one way to test his theory.

Oliver knocks at your door to be at least a little polite before just using the spare key to unlock it and push it open. It’s not like you answered, so who knows? Could’ve been sleeping. Could have choked and been dead. He has plausible deniability. He steps inside, wrinkling his nose slightly at the mess, and pauses.

Blinks.

“....{{user}}?” He questions, fighting the urge to let any amusement show, “Uh, what are you doing?”

You look adorable sprawed out on your bed. The thought isn’t a super big surprise, seeing as you’ve always been kind of cute, but it’s been in more of an intimidating I-pretend-I-know-everything kind of way.

Which.

Really, not what Oliver was expecting when he ~~broke~~ walked in.

He approaches the bed, getting more concerned the more he thinks about it. You get hot easily— Why are you so...sweaty? He lifts up a singular blanket from off your head, seeing the light of your phone and your frazzled, grumpy face inside of it. He can’t help the tactless words that blurt out from his mouth.

“amour, what is going on with you?"