The longer she looked at him, the more the contradiction between everything she thought she had known about Oliver and everything she had witnessed tonight pressed against the inside of her skull with a weight that made coherent thought difficult. She had believed she understood him. Had believed she had a reasonably clear picture of who he was - his personality, his character, the way he moved through the world.
Tonight had not just complicated that picture.
Tonight had replaced it entirely with something she did not yet have the framework to understand.
Oliver reached the car and looked at her with an expression that was gentle but direct, reading her face with the ease of someone who had been paying close attention to her long enough to understand her silences as well as her words.
