'Cause That's Just the Ghost of You I'm Seeing: Oliver & Thea
Thea grumbled to herself as she watched the black Lincoln Town Car drive off into the distance. It wasn't fair, she thought as she turned around and headed back towards the grand estate. Who drags their daughter away from everything she knows and then leaves her to do the unpacking? Thea thought uncharitably, her gaze sweeping over the palatial manor as it drew near. And at the start of senior year no less! Thea had already decided to allow herself three days to be teenage girl angry about their decision before she'd act like an adult and get over it. Today was day three...and as such, she did not care that their father had been required to move company headquarters to Starling City. She also didn't care about the mysterious uncle that no one had known existed who had gifted the manor to the Queens on the day of Thea's birth. That fact that the house was gorgeous didn't impress Thea at all because she was angry. She totally did not believe it was a pity that such a pretty, grand residence had stood vacant for so many years. Nope. It was day three of her angry time and she was mad. Totally.
She sighed as she opened the front door and reentered their new home. At least she didn’t have to assemble any furniture by herself. All she had to was clean and unpack the small stuff. As a passive aggressive revenge, Thea decided to start with her bedroom. She ignored the boxes sitting in the foyer and those she could see within what would be the living room and instead took to the stairs, grabbing the cleaning supplies on the way.
She paused outside the door to what she had chosen as her bedroom. It had been odd, how she’d come to the decision. She hadn’t even gone into the room, just come to a stop outside of it and declared it hers. She hadn’t even been inside yet; Walter had gone in, uncovered the furniture, and put her boxes in the room for her. Thea shook her head, uncertain why she was hesitating, and opened the door.
Thea smiled at the sight of the bare bones room, her room. She pulled her iPod out of the pocket of her shorts, hit play, placed the earbuds in her ears and started making this room her own. It wasn’t until she began wiping down the mirror that she spotted him. She whirled around, scrambling backwards, “What the hell?” She shrieked, grabbing for the nearest item that she could use as a weapon: her hairbrush. Oh, well, that was helpful. “Who-?” She started to ask and then stopped the question, “How did you get in here?” Thea knew she’d triggered the alarm system into activation when she re-entered the house. Why hadn’t it gone off to warn her?