Olivia Dunham was tired. She walked into her apartment fully intent on not going to sleep so she could finish the paperwork that was currently dragging her arm further down with its weight. If she was honest with herself, shed admit how scared she was to sleep. It's not the dreams or nightmares that scare her, unlike some who avoid sleep, but rather what is missing. Better yet, who is missing.
Olivia walks into her kitchen to make a full pot of coffee all the while avoiding the open door to her bedroom. She looks over her warm and comfortable bed beckoning her. Liv shakes her head and spreads all the files on the table and starts initialing, adding details, signing, sorting through statements and interviews. Three cups of coffee and four completed reports later and she can't stop her eyes wandering to her room.
Nightmares and dreams Olivia can handle. It's the thought that she may be losing her mind, she can't. The insisting sense of absence when she goes to sleep is unsettling. If she were honest, it scares her. If she was being truly honest, she craves it more. She wants to wake up to someone next to her. Have a presence warm her. It's when she is sleeping that it comes true.
Olivia stacks her sixth report on her completed pile and looks longingly at her bedroom. She sighs, giving up. Olivia stands, turning off the kitchen light and finally succumbing to sleepiness. She changes out of her suit into her comfortable, grey collage shirt and sweats. She hesitates, thinking, pondering. In her blissful state of limbo between sleep and wake, she'll know what will happen. She is scared of how much she looks forward to it. But the Special Agent Olivia Dunham side avoids it. It's not reasonable or logical and she should tell Walter. The other side of her, Livi Dunham says, "No, its ok."
Olivia sinks into her bed, ready to have a dreamless sleep. She is almost there when she feels him. He cuddles closer. He snakes his arm around her waist, warming her back. She lifts her head and his other arm goes under it, his bicep replacing her pillow. She sighs, content. Olivia knows he'll be gone in the morning, so she indulges. His arm around her waist lifts and she feels him pushing her hair off her shoulder. He tugs at the collar of her shirt, exposing her shoulder. His arm goes back to her waist making sure to pull her closer to him. She feels his warm breath on her neck and she shivers. He tangles his legs with her own. His lips kiss her shoulder. His stubble gives her goose bumps. He starts kissing up her shoulder, up her neck to a tender spot under her ear.
She knows she only has a little bit of time before he disappears. Olivia doesn't want him to go. She wants him here. Olivia turns around in his arms and pushes herself up so she could kiss his neck. She snakes her arm under his and hugs him to her, tightly. She puts her left leg between his and wraps her right leg over his thigh possessively. She kisses the base of his neck tenderly. He chuckles at her antics; she feels it reverberate through his throat.
"Possessive, aren't you?"
Olivia doesn't say anything just kisses up his neck. She feels him inhale, "You need to remember, Liv," he says. He does every time. In the morning, after he is gone, she spends an hour trying to remember who he is and why she knows him. But then Olivia doesn't know his name, just a face. "I need you," he says. The soft tenor of his voice, his smell, impales her senses. She yearns for Damiano's and wine. She hugs him tighter and digs her face into his neck. She closes her eyes, inhaling.
Olivia wakes up by herself. The pillow next to her has no indentation, the mattress cold. She sits up and rubs her eyes. She looks at the empty side of her bed. Two weeks and she is no closer to finding out who he is but Liv knows she won't find out just yet. This part of the morning always scars Olivia the most. The ache in her chest was real. The feeling to look in the kitchen to see if he was there was real. The sob that is creeping up her throat at the loss is real. In the back of Olivia's mind she knows it is not a dream. The normalcy of having him there all night with her wasn't a dream. It was much worse and cruel: a memory. Olivia closed her eyes and instead of thinking about his physical appearance like before, she pondered what she felt when he was here.
The familiar weight of his arm on her waist, his stubble as he kissed her shoulder, his kisses leaving a hot trail in their wake, his voice giving her a calmness like nothing else, his arms around her making her feel safe and loved, his soft breath as he breathed her in sending a shiver down her spine. She felt the bed dip and could feel his hand caress her cheek. His hand delves into her hair to the back of her neck. He pulls her close and whispers, "I love you, Olivia."
Olivia gasps, opening her eyes, "Peter…"
