They weren't getting on.
She couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to him about anything other than the case that they had been working on. She had tried to speak to him on a more personal level but had more than learnt her lesson. She wasn't sure she even wanted him to talk to her anymore. There were only so many times she could say nothing after being snapped at for no reason, only so many time she could pretend that it didn't hurt when he abruptly cut her off mid sentence and stormed out of the room.
Since Kathy had left he'd been unbearable. He wouldn't talk to her, she didn't know what happened or why. Instead of falling apart like he had done before, he closed up. His fists were almost constantly clenched. She had, to start with, sympathised. She's tried to get him to open up, told him that if he needed anything she was there and she had been but as each day went by he simply got angrier and angrier. She couldn't take it anymore.
Elliot had always used her as an emotional punching bag. If she'd had close friends, they would have told her this often, encouraged her to stand up for herself but she didn't, so she never did. She was no walkover, she'd catch him up on things, maybe not as they happened but at time where she knew Elliot would actually listen and take in what she was saying, not when he was so angry that he could explode at any minute. That wasn't how Elliot worked.
She was losing the will to explain that to people, to stand up for him when he was blatantly out of line. She was losing the will to want anything to do with him at all, he was exhausting. She sighed as she exited the locker room.
She had a date. She needed to get Elliot out of her head. Too many dates had been ruined by thoughts of him, worry for him. She hated the thought that she was slowly losing faith in the one person she believed she could never even begin to give up on but he wasn't giving her much of a choice.
He wanted to drink. Not just a little, he wanted to drink a lot. He had already had more than one too many but he wasn't planning on stopping there. Just a few minutes earlier a girl no older than Maureen had approached him, her dark brown eyes reminded him of someone he was trying to forget. She had not too subtly suggested that they go back to her place and he'd simply stared at her. She'd confessed that the dark and brooding look was doing nothing but turning her on, at which point he'd simply turned his back to her and ordered another drink.
He was bastard. Plain and simple. He didn't even bother to wait for her to leave, he didn't want to see the look of hurt in her eyes. He'd seen it too many times, especially recently. He didn't know what it was, yet again he had no excuse for his cruel behaviour. He hated hurting her, hated himself for hurting her. He'd watched her trying too many times to hide the hurt in her eyes as he'd snapped, told her to mind her own business. He was a bastard.
He didn't even want to think about Kathy. He wasn't quite sure who had left who this time but he knew he was done. There had been angry words, accusations, he had pushed her to tell him exactly how she felt and she hadn't held back. He had managed to stay relatively calm until she had mentioned Olivia and then all hell broke loose. She really thought that he was in love with her, with Olivia. He laughed it off before he realised that she wasn't joking and his world came crashing down. He'd denied it, point blank denied it but she told him that there was nothing he could do to convince her that she was wrong. She said that she knew that nothing had ever happened between them but that she could no longer live in Olivia's shadow. She had offered him one last chance, he'd declined.
Now, as he sat alone in a dirty, dingy bar convincing himself that he didn't feel anything other than mutual respect for his partner and trying to pretend that he hadn't walked out on a 22 year marriage he wanted just one thing, he wanted her. He wanted her to tell him to man up, to tell him that it would be okay. He didn't deserve it. He wondered if she would even open the door to him. He sighed, knowing that he should just stay where he was. He didn't need to bother her, he would just stay where he was and drink...
He raised his hand, lowering it almost immediately. He was standing outside his partners apartment at one in the morning after convincing himself nearly the whole way over that he wouldn't actually go in, wouldn't climb the stairs and knock on the door, that he'd just get the cab driver to drive past and then take him home.
She was playing music, loudly, something she only did after a bad day. He turned to walk away, she didn't need to see him like this. Who was he to be a bastard to her then turn up on her doorstep when he needed a shoulder to cry on?
He walked a few steps away from the door but stopped as he heard the sound of something falling to the floor and smashing followed by a short, sharp shriek. He ran towards the door, nearly tripping in his drunken state and beat his hands against the wooden frame. He waited and heard nothing.
His heart was racing, what if she was in trouble? What if she was hurt? What if someone had broken in? After waiting, and then beating his hands against the door again he reached for his keys. After missing the key hole the first time he hit it the second and quickly pushed open the door.
"Liv?" he called. Jesus, why did he drink so much? He could barely see straight. The music that was playing from the CD player in the front room was a song he recognised, but he couldn't quite remember its name. He shook his head slowly. She wasn't in the living room, there was no sign of a struggle. His heart was racing, the thought of anything happening to he made his chest hurt.
He desperately moved towards her bedroom, having found the bathroom and kitchen empty. He froze.
"Jesus Christ! Elliot!" Olivia practically screeched as her partner burst through her bedroom door. She immediately pulled her bed covers over her bare chest.
"Oh God." He was going to be sick. She was...she was on top of him, naked. He was naked. Who the hell was he? Who the hell was the guy that he'd just walked in on her partner fucking? Jesus Christ, he was going to be sick.
"Elliot! Get out!"
He'd never heard her so angry before. He quickly brought up his hand to cover his eyes. "Shit, I'm sorry." He turned and stumbled towards the living room, walking straight into the door frame as his hand stayed in front of his eyes. "I'm okay..." he walked out leaving Olivia to face the man who she had been ready to have sex with less than a minute ago.
She struggled to control her breathing. Mark simply stared up at her. "You uh, you're married?" he knew that she was too good to be true. Jesus, the guy was huge, he would kill him with one punch.
She was mortified; it had been her fourth date with mark. He was funny, charming and handsome and although she had thought about going home alone she decided against it. His eyes had lit up when she'd invited him up for coffee. As soon as they'd entered her building she was on him. Her hands were no his ass pushing his erection against her and his hands were reaching into her dress. It was a wonder they hadn't just gone at in the elevator.
As soon as they'd reached her apartment she'd turned the music on, loud. She didn't want to have to be quiet. It had been too long. She'd shimmied out of her dress as soon as Mark had pulled down the zip. After stripping him to his underwear she'd smiled, taken his hand and led him towards her bedroom. Within moments he was on top of her.
"Jesus, you're incredible." He'd whispered as his hands had skimmed her body, she'd known he would be like this, dominant, in control and she loved it. She was tired and she just wanted to feel. She was tired of being treated like she didn't matter, she was tired of Elliot's shit and she just wanted to forget him. She'd let out a long moan as he nipped and sucked her neck whilst his hand found her centre.
She'd almost forgotten how good it felt to be touched like this, to be whispered to instead of yelled at. But as Mark quickly rolled a condom onto his erect penis she couldn't help but feel a tinge if guilt as thoughts of Elliot clouded her mind, not sexual thoughts, but all the same he deserved her full attention. She shook it off. Elliot could wait, she deserved this.
In an instant she had flipped them and sat on top of Mark, his green eyes were wide with want and need. "Olivia you are...you're too good to be true," he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her towards him for a deep kiss as she reached in between them, slowly positioned herself and slid onto him.
"Jesus," Mark gripped her hips, stilling her, he wanted this to last. She was amazing, he hadn't even considered that she would give him a chance when he asked her out and here he was. "Just...just stay for a minute," he whispered, kissing her lips. "You're gorgeous-"
She'd shot up as soon as the door had flung open.
Now as he lay underneath her with wide eyes, his penis still inside of her she shook her head. "No, no, I'm not married," she looked up. Elliot had left the door wide open. "He's my partner-"
"Uh, is he staying?" he asked, not quite sure when the best date of his life turned into an episode of punked.
"I...no, no he's not. Can I...do you mind if I just..." she pulled herself up off of him, feeling empty almost right away. "I...I am so sorry about this, I'll be back," she quickly reached for her robe, wrapped it around her and walked out towards the front room, closing the door and leaving Mark alone in the bedroom.
He'd seen her naked. He'd seen her breasts. He'd seen her fucking another man.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" she walked out, trying not to shout but looking so angry that he was glad she didn't have her gun in her hand. She was going to fucking kill him.
"I'm...Liv, I'm sorry. I didn't know-"
"You barged into my bedroom at... "she looked at her watch, "one am in the morning and you expect me to be doing what?"
"Not fucking him!" he pointed to her bedroom and immediately regretted his choice of words. There it was again, the hurt, only this time it was quickly replaced with anger. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that – I heard a crash, I thought you were hurt. I knocked-"
"Are you drunk?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest, still trying to get over the fact that Elliot had walked in on her having sex. She would never, ever live this down. He'd seen her in a more intimate position than she had ever expected him to see and she didn't quite know what to do about it.
"I...am drunk, yes." He'd. Seen. Her. Naked. He couldn't get the imaged out of his head.
"Elliot, what the hell?" she shook her head. "I...I can't talk about this now, I want to help you. I do, but..." she took a deep breath and turned her gaze towards her bedroom.
"Who uh, who is he? You didn't mention-"
"When would I have time to mention it? When you're yelling at me or when you're storming out of the precinct." She was never usually this honest with him and as she saw the hurt in his eyes she knew why. She hated seeing him like this, as much as she sometimes wished she could, she knew that she could never give up on him.
"I uh, I really don't mean to hurt you," he told her as tears filled his eyes. He watched as she nodded and turned away from him, within moments she had walked back into her bedroom and shut the door.
Was he supposed to leave? He walked towards the front door slowly but stopped as the door opened again but this time Mark came out, closely followed by Olivia. Elliot walked away from the door as Olivia pulled it open and Mark stepped out. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips and Elliot felt as though his heart was going to implode.
"I will call you, I'm really sorry," he heard her whisper. She walked back into the apartment and closed the door. "I'm going to pour myself, a drink," she said, not moving, just looking at him for a few moments. "I think you've had enough..."
Would you like chapter 2?
As always, would love to hear what you think! X