Alt-Livia POV
I woke up in the early morning, rolling over groggily. I was stopped short. Peter's arm was wrapped tightly around my waist and I couldn't move. I tried again to roll out of bed, but did not achieve. IO tried to unravel myself from his hold gently without waking him, but it was too tight. I huffed, laying flt on my back, and considered giving up on getting out of bed. I took one deep breath and rolled hard to my left and felt his arm come loose. I landed lithely on the floor as I rolled off the side of the bed.
I heard Peter grunt, and was afraid I'd woken him. The last thing I needed right now was for him to be awake. I hesitated for a moment crouched next to the bed until I was certain he wasn't going to get up. I stood up and fished for my underwear in the scattered piles of cloth on the floor, then went to pull a robe out of her closet.
In my world, I never would have worn it. I preferred something silk and elegant, to the fluffy monotone colored robe she had hung in her closet. I closed the door to the room as I walked out. I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine. I stared at my reflection in the glass. I only kept it in the house because she drank. I couldn't stand the taste. Being drink didn't sound so bad, but I just couldn't stand it. I took a tentative sip and waited, then poured the glass down the sink, placing it on the counter haphazardly.
I leaned against the counter. It hadn't been nearly as fun as I'd thought. I couldn't play with Peter. I found my game much more controlled than I would have preferred. Usually playing innocent, torturing the guy, was fun, but with Peter, it was what he expected of Olivia. He expected her to be hesitant and sweet. For him it wasn't hot and passionate. It was suppose to have some deep meaning I didn't care about. After awhile the innocence simply became a charade I knew I had to obtain because if I played too rough, he'd question it.
I picked the glass up from behind me and twirled it by the stem in my hand. My reflection looked back and I didn't recognize it, because it wasn't mine. It was her. This blonde hair, this robe, the hidden emotions I didn't recognize behind my eyes... They weren't mine.
"Olivia," I heard come groggily from behind me. I dropped the glass, and heard it shatter as I looked back to see Peter Leaning against the doorjamb of the room in his boxers.
"Ah – Peter. Oh..." I tried to reorient myself,, and looked down at the glass sprinkled at my feet. I walked around the island to the drawer on the other side where the towels were.
Peter came up behind me as I opened the drawer and wrapped his arms around my waist. I closed my eyes and let him hold me, "What are you doing up?" He asked, swaying slightly with me.
My hands were flat on the counter tops. I took them and placed them over Peter's on my stomach, putting a smile in my voice, "Couldn't sleep."
Peter stopped swaying and turned my around to face him. I was slightly surprised, "Still?" He asked, concern all over his features.
I forced a slight smile onto my lips.
"I thought you said it was getting better. You told Broyles that you were okay after coming back."
I reached up and put my hand over Peter's on my cheek, " Have I ever really slept well? Its nothing new Peter."
"But the last time-" Peter cut himself off, trying to find words, "Are you sure your okay to be working? Maybe you need to take some time off. Get yourself together."
"No, Peter! I'm fine, really?"
"I doubt that-"
I backed up from him, breaking his hold, "I'm fine, Peter! Why are you so concerned about this?"
"Because! From the second we got back from the other side, you threw yourself right back into your work!You didn't take any type of break, and I haven't seen any real emotion out of you since. You act like your fine Olivia, but I can tell! I can see it inside you Olivia! You are not fine!"
