I'm use to this, really I am. Lying here hour after hour, wanting so badly to sleep but never actually dozing off. But, unlike tonight I usually think about past cases or 'what if's.' No, tonight I am thinking about the person who is surely sleeping 50 feet away from me. I'm thinking about my partner, who tonight, told me he loved me.
She has no pictures out. Her walls are painted white and she has no decorations, her apartment is entirely impersonal. He knows this because he is lying on her couch and has been for hours. He knows she's probably asleep, that he can just get up and leave. After all, it's pretty pointless to be just lying here. But, for some reason he can't leave here. Even though she has been distant all evening, he strives for that feeling of closeness with her. Lying here, on her couch, for some reason gives him that feeling. Then, he hears her bedroom door open and her footsteps come down the hallways. He hears what he believes is the fridge door open and leaning up on his elbows. Peeking up over the couch he sees her dig through it and takes out a jug of milk. He sits up now and watches her. He watches her pour herself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave. "Warm milk? Really Liv?" he says quietly. Without even turning around she says, "Always helps to put me to sleep." He didn't know what to say after that, so he just settled back down into the couch. Hearing the microwave go off, footsteps, her door close, and her bed creak he figured this was how it was going to be from now on. No communicating, just talking. He's already been through this phase with her, the phase where they didn't talk.
Grabbing his phone from the end table, he quickly texted, "I know you want to wait to talk about this. But, you're killing me, Liv… I don't think I'll sleep till we do." Yeah, it was a risk. A risk she could just ignore, pretend not to get. But, he just wanted to talk to her.
Hearing her phone vibrate on the nightstand, she pulled it to her. She knew it was, it was undoubtedly Elliot. Reading the text, she felt bad, she felt bad for the whole night. She couldn't even make eye contact with him when she went in there. Turning on the TV in her room, she decided to take a risk. She called his number and waited for him to answer. The TV would make the fact he would be taking to her while she was mere feet away less stupid. She couldn't see him, talk to him face to face, not yet. "You do realize this is stupid, right Liv?" he answered when the rings ceased. Why couldn't she just talk to him? She was being irrational and immature. "I know. But, I just can't yet. I don't know what to say to y-you yet." She stuttered.
"This isn't going to be me talking and you listening again will it?" She knew he knew it would be. Why even ask than? "Maybe."
"Okay. As long as you listen, really listen to my words, okay. I'll take what I can get." He whispered. She flipped over in bed and rested the phone between her face and the pillow. Looking out her window, to the lights, she snuggled down in her blanket even more. "I don't want this to ruin us, Liv. I wou-couldn't take it." In reality, she couldn't either. In her opinion, life without Elliot Stabler is no life at all.
"I just don't understand what to do about it, Elliot. You've changed e-everything we know." She said, in a bit of a rush. She needed to talk, wanted to, and she was going to force herself to, god damn it.
"I know, Liv. But, don't you miss the good days? The days where we laughed and joked around? The days where I talked to you about my life, I mean sometimes I would go to you for advice… I miss that. I miss that woman I knew. I miss the man I use to be. I miss being the man you trusted with everything. Damn it, Liv, I need to be that man. " Wow, he just had a way with words tonight.
"El?" she said.
"Yeah?" he answered. He would need something to keep going. She knew it. "You will always be that person." She replied.
"Do you remember when we use to work together? Push each other to the limits and beyond? I've never had anyone before you who pushed me to be a better person." When he said things like this, she didn't know how to respond. Yes, she's had boyfriends in the past who were sweet talkers. She could openly awh them and move on, knowing it was just part of territory. Getting to know Elliot over the years, she knew that this just wasn't rambling or sweet talk. This is how he, Elliot Stabler, thought about her. About the love he had for her. "I want to see you, Olivia. I want to say these words to your face, not over a phone or through a door. I want to see your reaction." Would it be rude to bluntly tell him no? Because to her, that sounded like a horrible idea. "Before you say anything, Liv, I need you to do this, for me. Please. I don't want you in there, all alone. I don't want to be out here, all alone. If I upset you like last time when I'm done talking, I don't want you to be able to hide. I know it's tough for you to be emotional in front of people, but it's just me, Liv. Just me."
How could she say no to that? "Okay," and with that she closed her phone and headed to the living room. Walking down the hallway, she was unsure of every step. Silently promising herself she would cry, she entered the living room. Seeing that he now only took up the furthest corner of the couch, she hesitantly sat down at the opposite end. They sat there for what seemed like ages until he spoke. "I honestly didn't think you would come out there. You've been hiding from me today." She knew she was. But, there was a lot to be hiding from. "I'm sorry fo-"he tried to say. But, she cut him off. "If you're going to say sorry for writing the letter, Elliot, don't. I don't want to hear you're sorry again. You're not sorry for writing it-"she took a deep breath and continued"- and neither am I." Well, she didn't know where that came from. But, it was becoming easier to talk to him. She was grateful, though. "You're not?" he whispered.
"You were being honest with me. How could I punish honesty? Plus, I wouldn't do that to you. I wouldn't make you feel sorry for your thoughts and emotions." Out of the corner of her eye, he saw him smile. It was only for a second, but it made her less terrified of this whole situation. "What do you think we will be in a year?" he said, never looking up. "Happy." She replied, as if she knew what that meant.
He didn't know what that meant. But, if he was happy and she was happy than he guessed everything would be okay. Honestly, he didn't know if he wanted to be with her, like in a committed relationship. That was too scary to even think about. He took him years to tell her this, he was done with being scared for awhile.
She moved a bit on the couch and he thought she was going to get up. He reached out instantly and put his hand on her leg, "Don't go."
"I just don't know what else I can tell you tonight." She replied.
"Then don't talk. We can just sit here. It's better than sitting in your room, me in here, alone."
Several minutes past until he felt her shift again, this time to grab the cover lying in between them. The cover, that up till an hour ago, he was enveloped with. She scooted closer to the middle of the couch and stretched her legs out resting them out on the table. Taking the TV remote from the table near her feet, he turned it on. They sat there watching mindless TV for at least an hour before he grew very tired. He looked over at her and realized she had been dozing off. Scooting closer to her, he could smell her scent. After a moment, she hesitantly rested her head on his shoulder. Tugging on the blanket, she handed some to him. Covering his legs up with the blanket, he felt content. These little touches always made his head spin and grow cloudy. Smiling, he still looked blankly at the television. He felt good. Even if they weren't okay yet, he knew they would be soon.
I've always wondered about how the little things would feel, like how her hand would feel in mine or how her lips would feel. I hope one day I find out.
I've wondered about the stupidest things with Elliot. I wondered if he stretched as soon as he got up in the morning or what side of the bed he liked. Looking down from the TV, I saw his hand. It was filled with textured lines and an urge to hold it hit me like no other. I didn't want to think about it, I just wanted to feel tonight, to cross out one of my questions. So, I turned his hand over and traced the lines with my finger. I heard his breath hitch and knew it was having the same effect on him. I shivered from the contact and intertwined our fingers. Looking up and meeting his eyes, I knew things would be okay in time.
Turning my attention back to the TV, I started to doze off, smiling. And just before I did, I heard him whisper, "I do love you, Liv. I really do."