If Oliver had to go to Diagon Alley one more time this week he was honestly going to kill someone. And then present their dead body to his parents for Christmas. He had promised himself that today would be the last time and if he didn't get something he needed? Well, fuck it. Honestly. Just fuck it. Fuck Christmas and fuck anyone and everyone who enjoyed it. Oliver was not a Christmassy person and he had no intention in becoming one. It was an awful holiday that made you stay at home with your mental parents and listen to their judgments about your life. And it meant you had to go Christmas shopping. And if there was one thing Oliver hated more than spending time with his family at Christmas it was getting them presents in the fucking packed Diagon Alley.
He was so preoccupied in self misery, that Oliver didn't notice Lia until he had already run into her. He tried to take a step back in order to apologize, 'tried' being the operative word. Oliver was stuck. He was genuinely stuck and there was a bloody mistletoe hanging above his head. This holiday had officially just become even worse. Not that he minded the pretty girl - who he kind of recognised? Oliver really wasn't sure where he knew her from - but this was just ridiculous. Whoever invented bloody mistletoe deserved a slow and painful death.
"Hi," Oliver said, trying very hard not to take out all of his frustrations on the poor girl who clearly was not at fault. "I'm really sorry about running into you," he added genuinely before giving a huge sigh. "Don't take this the wrong way, but... can I kiss you?" Which did sound quite, well, eh, dodgy. It sounded like one of those really awful pick up lines that never worked on anyone. So in order to make it better Oliver pointed upwards. "So both of us can leave, I mean."