So This is a little piece that has been dangling around in my mind for quite sometime. I think I'll start this little Peter/Olivia short story collection with this being the first piece. Or maybe it'll just be a one-shot. Either way, I'd love to here what you think.

It was inspired by the song Don't Say by St. Lola in the Fields.

It was the winter. Light, white snow lined the ground outside her home in Boston. Inside, Olivia sat on the couch, wrapped in a light colored blanket with a cup of coffee in one hand and the other was fisted in her blonde hair that was slung gracefully over her shoulder. She stared down into her cup as the coffee swirled around. Peter was standing in front of her, pacing. He was upset at her again and whatever stern, cynical words he was saying, she couldn't hear them this time because she blocked them out. They were always the same-how dangerous it was for her, what his father did was wrong, how he wants her to be safe. When she didn't listen he'd get angry. That was Peter. She sighed heavily and drank a long sip of coffee, only to put the mug down and come face to face with a very angry Peter.

"Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" he asked harshly.

"Yes Peter," she said, looking him in the eyes. There was a deep growl coming from his throat and he threw his hands up in the air and made a fist, spinning around so his back was to her.

"Olivia, don't you get it? I just want to keep you safe! You can't keep agreeing to my fathers' crazy ideas! You're going to get yourself hurt or worse – killed! How can I love with that Olivia? I can't see you keep getting hurt! I care about you-"

Olivia turned away, her eyes forcefully watering. She tried so hard to choke them back.

Don't fight, don't fight, don't fight, she repeated to herself over and over again. She didn't want to argue anymore. She didn't want to be angry with him (and herself) and watch him leave. She didn't want to here him say he's leaving this time. That would break her apart.

"I don't know what to do Olivia," came the voice of Peter again, "I try so hard to keep you safe, but you just go running around with my father and his mad ideas! I don't want to leave you Livia, but I'm afraid-"

She sniffled back tears as she watched him pace the floor. She wanted him so very much, but she couldn't tell him. How could she say-

"-Liv, you're all I have."

He spoke the words she was thinking. He was staring at her and she carefully lifted her eyes to meet his. The strength of her gaze dropped him to his knees in front of her on the couch. Her eyes were watery, but they showed no signs of spilling over. His brow (that was knitted together once from anger) knitted together in confusion. He reached for her cheek, but she stared, wide eyed at him and moved from his hand.

"Oliv-"

But she turned her face away from him. Taking another sip from her coffee she looked back at Peter, whose face was a mix between hurt and confusion from what she had (not) said. He stared at her as the tears gathered more and more in her eyes.

"Peter," she whispered. At once, all the anger in Peter's body fell away and he enveloped her in a hug. She buried her face in his bicep, the strong muscle flexing as his fingers stroked her back. Her eyes, water threatening to spill, squeezed shut against the fabric as she breathed in his sent.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he whispered, his scruff scratching the side of her face as he whispered in her ear. She inhaled a choked breath in his shirt and he kissed the top of her head.

"I don't want you hurt," he repeated, trying to soothe her. How come he's never noticed how sad she looked when he spoke to her that way? Guilt racked his body and he looked up at the ceiling.

"You're all I have Olivia," he said again, looking at the ceiling, "I can't live without you. I can't lose you."

Olivia pulled back and looked into his eyes, smoldering green eyes that stared into hers. She blinked and half-smiled at him.

"Peter," she said in a whisper, "You're all I have."

The breath he didn't know he was holding was expelled in an instant and he was at a loss for words then. Her words rang so true in her eyes that he didn't know what to do. Kissing her would over stepped their boundaries, but then again they've over stepped them quite sometime ago. But something would change if he did.

Olivia saw a new confliction in his eyes and she took her chance to move away. She was dangerously close to kissing him and she knew that if she did that, it would all be wrong. She made a move by wrapping the blanket around her and heading to the window to watch the snowfall into the street. Her hands were shaking so she set the coffee down on the windowsill and stared out into the street.

Peter kept his distance, but wanted to say something to her, but words couldn't form. He needed Olivia, he had decided this quite sometime ago. Walter was catching on, but his words rang so true in his ears. She's just what you need, someone who can see right through you. He sighed and ran his hand across his face. The sun that came through the window created a glow around her blonde hair and she looked utterly beautiful standing there. She was unnaturally still and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort her. Peter hesitates behind her and finally settles with pointing his hands in his pockets.

"I worry about you Olivia, everyday," he confessed, "I worry that you'll leave. I'm worry that I'll be alone. I don't want to be alone, not without you-"

"Do you mean that?"

It was a whisper, but he heard it. He stared at the back of her head as if she spoke a different language. What would make her think he didn't mean it? Did she not know how much he cared for her?

"Olivia," he began, snaking his hands around her waist so she spun to face him.

"Peter," she said, stopping him with a finger on his lips. He looked puzzled.

"I want to say something," she said looking into his eyes, "Promise me you won't interuppt."

He nodded.

"I'm, not the best with relationships Peter," she began with a small smile, "Last man I dated was a traitor to the country. I was terrible with boys in school and I'm even worse with them now. So which is why I have to say this Peter. Don't take it lightly when I say that I love you. I do. I just- I just know this won't work. You and I are so completely different and we want different things. And I-"

Peter grasped her finger lightly and stared at her with a gaze that stopped her speech. Carefully, without breaking eye contact, he held her finger and moved it away from her lips to her side. He brushed a hand through her hair and brought her face to his, staring intently into her eyes all the while. So gently, he brought his mouth down to hers.

It was gentle and it was kind, and it was the kiss that was meant for comfort. Comfort that was brought to tell her he loved her just as much. It was delicate and soft, so perfect that Olivia's eyes fluttered closed as he wrapped his arms around her neck. She felt home now, she felt like she was wanted. Peter showed her just how much she was wanted then. Peter told her without speaking, just how much he loved her.

And ta-da! It's complete! Cute? bad? Incredibly sappy? Tell me, did i hit the nail on the head with them or did Olivia seem to weak and Peter to love-sick? tell me please!