Title: From Afar
Rating: K
Summary: Olivia is content with loving Elliot from a distance.
Disclaimer: If I owned SVU, Elliot and Olivia would be together :blush:
This is my first OE, actually my first fic in this fandom, so please be nice and no flames. I've suddenly become addicted to this show, but most especially OE's complex relationship. So I've written this short rather fic that's been lingering in my head. Hope you like it and please review.
It had never occurred to me why I always seemed to be so cold whenever he raised any topic relating to his wife. I never wondered why I grew increasingly sensitive when he talked about her. It hadn't struck me that I might have felt something for him...until now. This startling revelation struck me at a time I can recall exactly: the moment I said goodbye and turned my back to go undercover for the FBI.
The saying "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone" swirled incessantly in my mind. I knew that he was never mine, merely my partner for work, and that I had no claim on him whatsoever, but I knew that I would be unable to rid myself of the jealousy that would arise if I saw him with another woman.
Once I stopped denying these feelings, I wasn't prepared for the torrent of strange emotions that washed over me. Actually, there was only one that was completely foreign to me: love.
This was an emotion that had evaded me for most of my life. My childhood was a section of myself I preferred to remain in the past and my love-life was rather non-existent. I rarely found the opposite gender any more interesting than my own, and didn't see the thrill of being in a relationship. Most men who had approached me quickly skittered away once they discovered what my occupation was. I don't blame them entirely, if I was in their situation I probably would have done the same.
Even Elliot sparked no interest of mine when I first met him. Truthfully, I thought he was a mere brute who wanted the legal right to hurt people, but over time I realized how far from my initial observation he really was. I mistook his passion for the job for ego, his ability to compartmentalize his emotions for heartlessness, his private personality for arrogance. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Over time, I watched as the layers he used to cocoon his heart and soul, peel away. I was given the privilege to see the softer aspect of his character, to witness a side of him he revealed to precious few. We had forged a connection, a bond that could withstand our occasional yet fiery arguments, the hideousness that we beheld everyday, and various personal issues that shook the very foundations of our relationship. But even in the end, we're still here.
As I look back to the time when I had discovered his true nature, kind and caring, that might have been when my feelings for him began. If I had known what I had felt for him, I didn't think my affections would extend beyond the confines of a simple crush, but then I'd be fooling myself. Of all the men in the world, of all the fish in the sea, my heart chose to fall captive to the one man I couldn't have.
I used to ask myself, why him? But then I would look at his face, almost lose myself in his endless blue eyes and gentle stare and I would realize, how could I not?
I knew, there was no dismissing it, but he would never be mine. We were restrained by strict rules and regulations set by our jobs, the boundaries of friendship, and my neurotic fear that he would walk out of my life if he discovered the truth of my feelings. I would rather that he plays the role of a friend in my life, than to not have him in my life at all.
I had accepted this reality, that I would love him from afar. I didn't want to jeopardize the relationship we shared, because a part of me yearned for more than the simple pleasures of friendship. It longed for the tender kisses and touches of their significant other, soft whispers of love, and the feeling of completion knowing that you are not alone.
I had shoved aside the pain of suppressed and unrequited affections. I understood and accepted that he wasn't for me to have, he wasn't for me to love, he wasn't for me to call my own.
My bitterness towards my circumstances did not reside inside me for long, as I opted to revel in the joyful sensations of loving, while I carefully ignored the pain of not being loved in return. I was content with what I felt for him, the pleasure of his company, his irreplaceable presence in my life, and the fact that I knew what it was like to love. I didn't have the audacity to ask for more than that.
I was content with loving him from afar.
fin
