Title: Lover hurts…like fucking hell and it won't stop

Author: detectivekit

Rating: NC-17 - maybe somethin' less

Author's Note: For the end of "Love hurts…like fucking hell": Liv occupied herself with cleaning her gun (Pleased? devilish smile) There seems to be an endless continuation of this fanfic…somehow it becomes my very own autobiography. This time I've been inspired by my prom night. Alex's still homophobic; therefore I'm sorry once more. Liv's PoV.

Summary: Liv has to go to a charity performance and is mesmerized by a blonde woman who has been ignoring her for what seems like a lifetime.

Disclaimer: I guess with Alex acting like that, the show would have been dropped from the program by now. That's why I'm glad that I don't own them. Unfortunately my life belongs to me.

Love hurts…like fucking hell and it won't stop

I still don't know why I've to go to this event. I'm a NYPD cop and not some celebrity who has to show her face around. I frown and stare at the mirror in front of me. I used to think of me as a good-looking woman. Now, everything I see is a completely buggered bundle. A bundle of limbs without any life inside them. There are two or three pounds on my hips which weren't there the last time I took a closer look at myself. There are shadows under my eyes, no make-up could ever cover. I don't see anything when I look at my eyes. There's nothing but emptiness. I gaze down at my dress. I haven't worn such a thing for a little while and it feels strange against my skin. It feels odd against the skin of my breasts, against the skin of my tights. I hate this dress. Don't get me wrong, it looks awesome, but still it does not fit very well with me. It's a shimmering green. Green - the color of hope. I laugh bitterly. Hope? That's something that faded months ago.

Again I stare at the mirror but I don't see me any longer. It's her who's now smiling at me. This radiant smile she used to send towards me, when we were chatting easily. God, I remember so many moments we shared. So many memories are spinning around in my mind. Memories which leave me alone, shivering in the cold of my bedroom. Every time I was around her I seemed to be at ease. I can't even explain why she was capable to do this to me. I turn around, falling against my closet. I sit down on my floor, swaying back and forth. I close my eyes, trying to banish her from my thoughts.

I doubt that Alex knows what she's doing to me. I doubt that she knows that I'm falling to pieces. I shatter into a million small parts, no one's ever going to be able to put together again. I crumble into a big puzzle of thousands and thousands of pieces. But the problem about this puzzle is that there are missing parts. Those missing parts which used to belong to my heart. My heart with the enormous hole inside.

I sigh and step out of my bedroom. To be honest, I'm afraid to go to this charity thing. Not because I'm afraid of getting bored to death. No, it's because I'm going to see Alex. Alex in a dress. I'm already all hot and sweaty when she does wear one of her business suits. But with Alex in a dress I'm not sure if I can take my eyes off of her.

With everything I've gone through because of Alex, I shouldn't think about her anymore. Believe me, that's what I'm trying to do all along. And it works – most of the time. But than I'm alone in my apartment and I wonder what it would be like if she were there with me. How do her lips taste like? What does it feel like to stroke her face? And now imagine those thoughts while accompanying today's event. I shake my head.

I put the keys in my little black purse and head out of my apartment, leaving it lonelier than ever. I hail a cab, clad to have the chance to get drunk tonight. Getting drunk will give me the possibility not to think about the suck-up who's going to be with Alex. That way I don't have to feel the ache inside my heart when he lays his hands around her waist and she's all smiling. I feel tears built up deep inside my soul, but I promised myself not to cry over her again, ever. That's why I swallow down the lump in my throat and stare out into the bright black darkness.

That's how it feels like inside me. Blackness. Emptiness. Void. There's no light. No light to illuminate me through the darkness. I'm in the middle of a dusky nothing. No matter how far and how fast I run I'm not able to find the way out. I've felt this way since my mother told me that my father was a rapist and that my procreation had nothing to do with love. But there had always been something to enlighten my fears. And for quite some time it had been Alex. One of her smiles and I knew I would make it through the rest of the day. One touch and I knew I would be able to make it through the rest of the week. Now there's nothing like this. There's no smile, no touch.

I wish I could take away my words from that 'special night'. I wish I hadn't said those things to her. I wish I had left my feelings enclosed. I wish my mother hadn't told me to be honest all the time. The friendship we would have had now wouldn't be one of total loyalty. There would be no loyalty because she's not able to accept me in every single way. Accepting something as natural as the oxygen we need to live. But I wouldn't know that. Above all, I would still be happy. Happy to be around her, happy to muck around with her. Nevertheless, 'what if''s won't help me. But seriously is there anything that's going to help me? Is there anything that's able to take my pain away? The pain I feel since ten months, since forever.

Lost in thoughts I don't recognize that the cab has come to an abrupt halt. It doesn't register to me until the driver calls me. I give him the money, not caring about my change. I step out of the car and freeze, feeling the cold air on my exposed skin. I walk into the hotel and into the hall booked for the charity. I'm greeted by Elliot and Kathy. I'm glad that she accompanied him.

The atmosphere between Elliot and me is still freezing. As freezing as the air outside. There hasn't been a proper talk since the 'special night' and I'm afraid that there will never be such a thing again. The worst thing about it is that I know for sure that these things don't register to him. Sometimes I wonder if I should talk to him about it. But I fear that if I do so, Elliot won't stand to be my partner anymore. And that's the only thing that I still have at the very moment. It's something I hold onto. It's something I can't risk. Above all I still remember very vividly what my last talking had caused.

We go over to the SVU table together, with the Captain, Fin and Munch already sitting about it. I smile at them, knowing that it's never going to reach my eyes. That's something that hasn't happened in a very long time. I haven't laughed for what seems like an eternity. An eternity without happiness. Every time I ask myself how I could allow Alex do this to me. Why does she have this control over me? I'm a grown woman; it should take more than some homophobic snob to tear down all of my walls and make me some weak enemy of my own. An enemy of my feelings. Feelings that seem to be able to do things no perp has ever done. There had never been a perp who caused suicidal thoughts. And now I seem to live with them on an everyday basis.

I sit down next to Munch, knowing that he's going to occupy my mind with his crazy stories. I order myself a glass of some rich, red wine. The name of it all forgotten when I see her walk into the room. The image that welcomes me, takes my breath away. I can hardly blink, afraid that the moment I'll do so, she disappears. I know that the guys around the table properly think, that I'm staring, but I could care less at the moment. I don't care, if she catches me staring or some attorney or whoever is taking place in this party. All I know is that this picture is going to stay with me forever.

Alex wears some apricot-colored, strapless dress. I'm not able to avert my gaze from her cleavage. The skin of her collarbone is flawless. Without ever having touched her there, I'm sure that her skin is as soft as shining velvet. Her throat is graceful and even from afar I see that she had used some glittery make-up. I feel my fingers running down her neck up to the front, drawing circles on their way to the valley between her breasts.

I snap out of my bubble and stare right at her face. The face that's following me in my dreams. The face I once fell in love with. The face I'm still in love with. Her hair is pinned up about her head, leaving just a few strands hanging down onto her shoulders. I've never seen her with such a hairstyle but it looks amazingly good on her. A real eye-catcher is her mouth. Her lips are as red as I've never seen them before. I close my eyes, willing my gaze to stay on the people around. When I open my eyes once again, Alex's all gone.

I'm sitting here for nearly two hours now, and I'm already sick and tired of it. I haven't seen Alex again so far, for what I'm more than grateful. I stand up, heading towards the toilettes. I wash my hands while staring at my own reflection. The reflection hasn't changed since the time in my bedroom. The only thing that's different is my flushed cheeks, caused by the alcohol. The alcohol from which I've so desperately hoped it would take Alex away from my mind, from my heart. I open the door, ready to pretend once again, when there's someone else's hand on the outside door handle.

I look up and stare at the blue ocean of Alex's eyes. Her features are hard, radiating nothing but iciness. Her lips curl into a thin line, while her eyes are as hard as steel, showing no sign of sympathy. There's no nod, implying that she recognized a friend's presence. For the first time since the 'special night' I stare right back at her with the same expression on my face. The same half-heartedness is reflected in my eyes. But I know that this wall I built up is thin and is going to crumble as soon as I'm on my own. On my own, seeing Alex's expression again and again.

The instant we pass one another, I flee towards the hall and take my purse, ready to put this horrible evening to an end. My departure is not recognized. No one bothers if I stay or go. No one cares if I accompany them or not. No one wonders what's going on. No one tries to hold me back. No one tries to comfort me. Words of comfort which I so desperately need. Comfort for which my heart is aching. Ache from which I don't know how much longer I can stand it. I hail a cab and drive back to my apartment. Back to my loneliness. Back to my cocoon.

I break down inside the car, crying as hard as never before. Tears are running down my cheeks. The brook becomes a flash flood. I try to swallow down the lump but I'm not longer able to. The tears I had held back once over all those years, are crashing down. Crashing down, leaving me a picture of misery. The misery I put myself into. I know for sure, that I'll never declare my love to someone again. Alex made sure that I'll never open up again. Alex made sure that those facades around me become thicker. Thicker, with no chance to break through.

I collapse onto my bed, close my eyes; put my hands over my ears, trying to evade myself from this world. What have I done in my former life to deserve this? I already went through a rough childhood with my father being a rapist and my mother being an alcoholic and now this.

I had always been afraid to say what I feel. I was scared that because of those weaknesses people would think less of me. In particular I feared that they would reject me for who I am and in the end that just happened. But why? Why can't Alex stand to be in my presence? Does she think I would rip down her clothes once she gets too near? Are those HER fears? Or is it something else?

I don't know why I still try to find explanations for her behavior, for her ignorance. I try to tell myself that she's just too occupied to talk to me. I try to convince me that she's too busy to realize what she's doing to me. What she does to me without regret, without guilty conscience. But then I comprehend that she's just one of the most careless people I've ever met. Pure and simple. I'm not the one who's on Alex's mind when she's alone in her apartment late at night. Alex doesn't think about me when she hears some campy love song. It's just me who is suffering about the impossibility of a relationship. A relationship? I don't know if I would have been capable, but I know that I would have done everything to make it work.

Alex has been on my mind for over a year now and it is hard to throw her out. I just don't know who is able to fit in this big hole in my heart and soul. But I know that I have to let go of her, if not for my own sake than for the sake of my work.

With those realizations I stand up and head into the bathroom, stripping down the dress on my way. I step into the shower, letting hot water streaming down my face, further down my naked body. The image of Alex in this apricot-colored dress comes to my mind. I see her, striding towards me with a smile on her face. I feel her hands upon my shoulders, stroking lightly over my skin. I gasp, closing my eyes for a second. I take a deep breath and open them again, receiving the picture of a naked Alex in front of me. Her smile is shy, warm, seductively. Everything at the same time. I can't take my eyes off of her lips, imagining how good they must feel, how they must taste.

The water's getting cold, when I feel my fingers circling around one of my nipples. I fall against the cold wall of my shower; picturing Alex would be here with me. I fantasize that her body is pressed against mine. I feel the wetness rushing down my core. I take one of my nipples between my index finger and my thumb and twirl it, while the flat palm of my other hand is caring the other one. I groan loudly. I let one of my hands wander down my body, imagining it is Alex's. I touch the oversensitive skin of my abdomen, picturing Alex's lips trailing down kisses there. One finger slips inside the wetness, making long, slow strokes. I push two fingers inside of me, while I press my thumb against my clit. I feel the orgasm build up inside of me. I thrust my hips against the motion of my hand, moaning Alex's name like a mantra. I come hard and fast, crying out the name of the love of my life, when the waves of pleasure subside. I slide down the tiled wall behind me. I pull my legs towards my breasts, laying my arms about them.

I'm lost in my cold, freezing bathroom. Lost with my own dark thoughts. Thoughts of the woman who branded me as some social outcast. Am I the bastard Alex sees in me? Someone who's not life worth, just because I love women instead of men. Plainly because I can't afford the things the society demands of me. But can those people dictate me what to feel? Can strangers tell me what's right and what's wrong? At the other hand, can something like love be accused of being 'wrong' at all? Above all, why do I feel wrong and ugly? I feel as if I'm not human at all. I feel as though I'm a big mistake made by God himself to see what a single human is able to bear.

If that's what love's supposed to feel like I don't want to experience it. Never. I'll stay forever single if that saves me from this pain. I mean, in the end every relationship ends, is damned to fail. Why put yourself through this shit? Just for some piece of happiness? One single second filled with bliss and millions and millions of seconds filled with sorrow.

It's getting cold, leaving me shivering on the ground of the shower cubicle. I step out of it and take a towel to dry myself. I walk over to the sink, seeing the razor blade lying on its surface. For the umpteenth time since quite a number of months I wonder what's left to live for. I take the blade while staring at my own reflection in the mirror…

Fin

A/N: Some people said that killing Liv is not an option, so here we are. I hope you liked it even though there is still no one else on Olivia's side. It's just that I try to keep this as real as an autobiography. As soon as I meet someone, I'll take care of Liv, I promise.

I plead for feedback with all my naïve, empty, German heart. Thx so far.