{ we're starting fires 'til our lives are burning gold

[strongerthanyouknow]

Instead of being found by the League of Assassins,
Sara washed up on Themyscira and took on another name…


καναρίνι

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[al_sahm_al_akhdar]

Sara still fits so perfectly in his arms.
Oliver has not touched with such care, such gentleness in what feels like a lifetime. But it feels right that it's Sara, that she's the one he can draw in close, tip his head into the way she cups his face.

Maybe there could be another way.
A way without having to go back to Nanda Parbat and exact his revenge.
Sara shines so brightly here.

A nod. A small smile for only her.
"Okay."

Oliver doesn't ask if she's certain, he doesn't ask if she wants to reconsider the decision. Sara wants to go with him and he wants her to. He's done with being alone, a shadow of steel and blood and death.

[strongerthanyouknow]

It catches itself in her chest, like someone inserted an arm or a boulder when he tilts his hand in against her hands. She's not under any lack of comprehension to what he's said, even if a bit of it seems still impossible, save all the signs that do lend themselves to what left him like he was.

And there's the want to believe him, thundering, in the rush of her heart when he gives that small smile, but she's not that girl, anymore, right? The girl who carried his truth's and his lies, both, in her hands, with her own, under the unflagging flap of her own smile. Right?

(But she's just said she's not staying, here, on Paradise, as καναρίνι either.)

She tries to lift her fingers gingerly. "This is going to be complicated."
Getting off Paradise. Getting away. A boat. Unnoticed. Everything about it.

[al_sahm_al_akhdar]

There's a hint of a sound, almost a chuckle as his hand closes around her wrist. Needing the touch a beat longer. Just a moment.

"When has complicated ever stopped us?"
When complicated was Sara sneaking out. Parties at Tommy's. Raising trouble and chasing the next thing that was fun and careless and carefree. Not escaping an island, not escaping the League. Not when their problems are far more dangerous.

[strongerthanyouknow]

It's a flicker. A stutter stop, with a momentary blink.

At the fingers that close over her wrist, not letting her lift her hand from where his cheek had leaned into her hand. Her heart skittering. Fluttering. Like the small golden bird that maintained itself as the symbol of her childhood, and her name, her self, here. Remade. Renamed. Golden and in flight. Wings fluttering against the bars of a cage, fingers at her wrist, heart pounding against her ribs at something that felt absolutely nothing like being caged.

Eyes lingering on the curl of his fingers on her pale wrist, as she moved it slowly back flush to his cheek. Fingertips ginger against the stubble there. Heartbeat in her teeth, her ears, his fingertips, and almost no air in her lungs, when she has to let out a small sigh that feels like it might crack something in her. Something being remade under those fingers, as she looked back up at his face. This face. So long gone. So alive. Half of every reason she ever ended up here. "You always were trouble."