This is just a little something I found whilst (I love that word) cleaning out my Documents folder. I'm assuming this isn't where I originally meant to finish but I thought it worked out well. Set a couple days after Marionette.
Enjoy!
She can't decide whether she should forgive him or whether she shouldn't.
She sits there, hunched against all the emotions raging inside her. She had told him that she didn't want to be with him, not after everything. But before that, she had told him that he belonged with her.
She wants to believe what Astrid said. Honestly, it would make her so happy. At the same time, however, she knows that he was the one who always knew her the best. In the two years she's known him, he's noticed the strangest things about her that even she didn't realize about herself. He knows her better than Rachel, than Ella, than Sam, than absolutely anyone in the entire world. He knows some of her darkest secrets.
How could he have not wanted to notice the truth?
She's been looking for a new apartment. This home, the one she has known longer than she's known Peter himself, it just has all the little things that aren't her. A picture hanging on the wall slightly crooked. Some of her things no longer in boxes. The shower head set on her least favorite setting. A toothbrush she's never used. Her clothes folded or hung the wrong way. Bedsheets she hasn't slept in. Perfume that just doesn't smell like her.
The other her has taken everything. Her life, her job, her home, the man she would never admit she loves. Apparently she hadn't kept in touch with Rachel and Ella for two months, so she doesn't need an excuse for them. The thought is comforting.
Sighing, she closes the laptop and sets it on the coffee table. She's been sleeping on the couch – it's easier than try and sleep in the bed she knows her doppelganger had made herself at home in. Not long after she falls asleep, she's awake again. Nightmares. She dreams that her kidnappers find her again and try to kill her. In this particular scare, she saw him join their side. He helped them kill her.
She starts crying again because it's the only thing she can do.
The phone rings. She ignores it, burying her face into the pillow, and hears the answering machine start up.
"Hey, Liv. It's me. I just wanted to talk to you and because I know you're there and can hear me right now but choose to ignore the phone, I'm still going to say what I want to tell you. I listened to you the other night – now all I ask is that you listen to me. I'm sorry. Okay? Honestly, I never felt this guilty and sorry before. All I know is that I'm terrified of losing you and I somehow am. Please don't do this to me. No matter what universe we're in, you're the one I want to be with. Not the Olivia from other there, not Rachel, no one." His voice starts to sound broken, lost. "So that's it. That's all I can think of to say that would somehow make this situation better. Call me back." The machine clicks off but it barely registers. She's crying harder, the tears soaking into the fabric of the pillow.
She would call him back eventually.
Just not tonight.