I was standing there letting the wind blow against my face, letting my hair fly loosely in the wind. The cold was piercing my face and burning my eyes. Maybe it was that or maybe it was the tears. I took in a deep breath and let my lungs fill with air. How had things gone from good to bad all in a split second? I felt like I was that much closer to retiring.
"Wanna talk about it?"
I turned my head around and peered over my shoulders at the all familiar voice of Elliot Stabler. I shook my head and sighed, "No."
He walked up next to me and rested his arms on the ledge, looking out at the city below. He had his black jacket on that always kept him warm during the job.
"I used to eat watermelon," Elliot said filling the silence with his husky voice.
"What?" I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, sometimes it seemed like the man was clueless.
"I used to eat watermelon," he said again, "Whenever I had a bad day I would stop at the store on my way home and pick up a watermelon."
"Why?"
"I liked watermelon," he answered with a small smile on his face, "But I had so many bad days that I got sick of watermelon."
Of course.
"What do you do now?"
Elliot turned around and now his back was facing the traffic of the city. I could feel his eyes looking at me. Watching my every move.
"I talk to you."
It was a voice so quiet I didn't think that I heard it. For a second I thought that it was just my imagination. I turned around too and looked at Elliot, really looked at him. That's when I knew it had in fact been real.
"How did we get so close?" I asked him. It was a question I already knew the answer to, but I asked it anyway. Maybe it was for assurance or maybe it was because I wasn't sure if I had the right answer.
Elliot shrugged, "You're my best friend, Liv."
Best friend. Best freaking friend. Of course I was his best friend. I was the only one that had been there for him the past thirteen years. The only one who didn't walk away when he pissed off at the world. The one that saw every terrible sight that he saw. How could he not see that I had fallen for him? Did I need to spell it out? Maybe he just doesn't care. Maybe he never will. He keeps telling himself that it isn't right to love me because he's married. Maybe he's right, I'll always be the other woman. But is it right to stay married to someone and lie everyday? Is it okay to say you love someone when you don't mean it? Maybe I'm over thinking it.
"Liv?"
"I have to go," I said turning around to walk back into the precinct, "I'll see you tomorrow."
Damn it! Damn it! How could I let her walk away again? Clearly she's upset and I keep adding on to it. I'm not a good talker. Never have been. I don't know how to cheer her up besides making her laugh and even these days she doesn't laugh at my jokes. She doesn't even smile. Sometimes I think about my life and I wonder how it got from there to here. How so many words have been spoken but nothing has actually been said.
The door slams shut and I close my eyes. The snow is starting to fall and I can't help but worry about Olivia getting home safely. I'll stop by her apartment on my home.
I pulled up in front of her apartment building and got out of the car, slamming the door closed behind me. The snow is pretty heavy now and it seems to have gotten colder. I walk up the stairs to her floor and stand outside her door waiting to knock. She used to know when I was there, she would open the door before I even got the chance to knock.
"What are you doing here?" she seems genuinely surprised that I showed up.
"I wanted to make sure you got home okay," I said truthfully, "The snow is pretty bad out there. D'you mind if I come in?"
Olivia turned around for a second and looked around her apartment at the mess, she hesitated for a moment and then she finally unlocked the chain on the door and let me in.
"It's cold out there."
"Yeah," she said walking over to her couch, "Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting company."
The couch had a few blankets on it and a pillow and from what I assumed, Olivia had been sleeping on it. The rest of the house was spotless.
"You been sleeping on the couch?"
I saw Olivia turn her head away, "Want some wine?"
She was purposely avoiding the question. Why did she have to be so damned stubborn.
"Liv," I said, "Why have you been sleeping on the couch? Is there something you want to tell me about?"
She shook her head and finally got the nerve to look me in the eye, "My bed sheets are in the dirty clothes," she said with the hint of a smile on her face, "I've been too lazy to wash them so, for now, I'm sleeping on the couch."
Elliot sighed of relief. "You never do your laundry."
Now she was smiling. That was something I hadn't seen in a while now.
"Of course I don't Stabler," she said playfully, "I never clean. Didn't you once tell me that?"
Yes. Almost five years ago it seems. "Yes."
"So why did you really go out of your way to come over here?" she asked as she grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it around her.
She always seemed to see right through me. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," I said, "You were upset earlier."
"I'm fine."
Fine. I hated that word. She always used that word to describe how she was doing. If she was burning alive and you asked her how she felt she would still say she was fine.
"You're always fine." I didn't mean to say it, it just slipped out. She shot me one of her death glares.
"Look," she said in a louder tone, "I'm tired and all I want to do is sleep. If you just came over to be an ass then please, leave."
I sighed and turned my head away as she got comfortable on the couch. She turned her back toward me but, I knew her eyes weren't closed. I got up and let myself out, locking the door behind me.
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