A/N: I couldn't resist. What can I say, I'm a glutton for swear words. Leave a review giving me your opinion. I am genuinely interested.
Disclaimer: I don't own these beautiful characters. I would've put them to good use(evil, knowing smile). I should be doing these way more often. Don't sue me. I'm so poor.
It was good. Who was she kidding, it was great. Easily made her top five. Maybe it could have been partially accredited to the fact that she hadn't gotten any in a few months, or even the fact that she'd lusted after this man for a good thirteen years. Or maybe it was entirely due to his skillful methods in the 'sack', as Fin liked to call it.
Contemplating this, she wanted to laugh, but the deathly silence coming from the other side of the bed made her think better of it. She wondered briefly what he was thinking, but she had a feeling that she knew, so she stopped thinking altogether. She just lay there, waiting for him to speak first.
The room smelled of vanilla, her, and sex, which was, in her personal opinion a great combination. The red numbers on the alarm clock read '1:21.' Then...
"Liv..." she released a breath that she didn't know she was holding. She decided that she wouldn't give him the chance, the opportunity to leave. It was up to her. Every single last detail of the interaction had to be up to her.
"Uh, I need a shower." she said simply, hopping out of bed and pulling on her shirt and silk pajama pants."You can let yourself out." This is her to a fucking t. It's what she'd learned over the years. To let them go before she got attached. It worked. Usually. But everything was different when it came to him.
"What?" his brows were furrowed, and he was angry, furious even.
She walked to the bathroom and shut the door quickly.
What the hell did I do?she asked herself as the spray of the showerhead massaged her skin gently. But she knew exactly what she was doing. Protecting herself. It was something she'd done several times in the past. Tears threatened to spill, but she pushed them back.
When she was finished, she threw her dampened hair into a bun and tossed on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Nothing was in there. She made a mental note to go shopping.
"Did you enjoy your shower?" a familiar voice sounded from behind her.
"Son of a bitch!" she jumped. "Elliot, you scared me half to death."
Once she recovered she shot him a look that would've murdered him, brought him back to life, then killed him again.
It was kind of endearing seeing him clad in only his boxer shorts, sitting at her bar eating a bowl of Cap'n Crunch. But the anger towards him shot the sentiment to shit.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, her grip on her temper barely there.
"Enjoying a bowl of cereal. Ya know, you have next to nothing in your refrigerator." he said around a mouthful of the stuff.
"You know what I mean, Elliot. Get out." she said, moving towards him with fire in her eyes.
"No." he stated simply.
"No?" she asked, disbelief evident in her tone.
"No." he said once more.
"Maybe I didn't make myself clear," she chuckled harshly. "Last night was fun, but now I want you to leave." Bullshit. It was bullshit, and she's a liar, and she was silently hoping that these two years had affected his uncanny ability to know if she was lying or not.
"Bullshit." he said, a smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. Now he had completely abandoned the Cap' n Crunch and was standing in front of her, his face a mere inch from hers.
"Excuse me?" her tone was calm, but she was livid. It was that thing again where she wanted to slug him and fuck him all at once.
"I call bulshit." he murmured.
"You were a one night stand. A good lay. You scratched an itch. What part about that is too hard for you to comprehend?" Their noses are practically touching, now, and she's so angry, it's visible.
"So this is the part where you run? Any time you start to feel anything close to love, anything real? Just like with Gitano. I gotta say Olivia, you might've topped yourself with this one. You couldn't even wait until the morning after." it was only so long before he snapped back.
"You son of a bitch." her resolve was weakening by the second and tears were brimming in her eyes. "You don't know me. You don't know anything about me." they were streaming down her face then in glimmering ruvlets.
"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. I know everything about you. Even the things you'd rather forget, remember? Two years doesn't change anything." she felt the breath of each word against her cheek.
"I hate you." she said with every ounce of conviction she could muster. But, it was limited. She did hate him. She hated him for leaving, she hated him for coming back, she hated him for the cocky look on his face that she wanted so badly to slap off. But she hated him most because she loved him.
"That's a lie. You love me, Olivia. You know it. I know it. You're in denial." Fuck. Fuckity, fuck, fuck. "Say it, Liv. Say you love me."
She kissed him, then, and it was all there. Everything she was too chicken shit to say. She loves him. She loves him. She'd missed him. She needs him. She loves him.
The tears hadn't stopped, if anything, they'd gotten worse. And maybe he'd started crying, too.
She'd still loved him.
A/N: Hm, am I done? I don't know, you tell me.