Oliver slowly makes his way over towards your door—it’s shut tight and he can hear the quietest sound of muffled crying, his heart aches whenever he hears it.

He’s standing face to face with your door now, debating whether or not he should go in—it’s not like your guys’ relationship has been particularly good as of late.

He brings his hand up to the door slowly and knocks two times, “Sweetheart, can I come in?,” He says in a soft voice.