ON BREAK, FINALLY! Goodness, hallelujah.
But! I've realized recently that the pull to this story and its contents have been hampered by the fact that I end up being overly ambitious. So, in the wake of this realization, I've decided I'm going to adhere more strongly to the true nature of a drabble series, and keep these puppies short with an occasional novel like the one I write.
... Oh lord, who am I joking. I'm probably going to write another epic in a couple of chapters.
BUT, I DO WANT TO GET TO YOUR SUGGESTIONS, AS I'VE SAID BEFORE, AND DAMNIT IT WILL HAPPEN. BECAUSE I ADORE EVERY ONE OF YOU AND YOUR REVIEWS AND SUGGESTIONS AND TIME SPENT ON MY STUPID BUTT'S ATTEMPTS AT STORY-TELLING.
So, without further ado, there's this thing. Not straight-forward Polivia, but Polivia nonetheless (gotta' keep it creative! Can't keep writing potentially smutty shower scenes all the time! *cough* Even though I know you lovable poopsies want that. *cough*)
Enjoy, loves!
The idle doodles formulating in the margins of her notes were the only thing keeping Olivia awake. She could feel sleep pulling at her eyelids, softening the speed of her constantly racing thoughts and leeching the stress from her often taught body; but, even in her fatigue-induced daze, she still remained rigid in her seat, shoulders facing squarely towards the monotonous drone of the weathered scholarly man at the head of the class.
She had known better than to schedule a biology lecture with accompanying lab at eight in the morning on Mondays, but it was the only convenient slot in her schedule to make way for her required criminal justice classes. She had considered taking a music class to alleviate some stress, but with fleeting experience on the Oboe and a generally unexpressed appreciation for music, she had decided to knock out some pre-requisites. Too bad this was a nightmare of unexpected proportions.
She shook her head violently in a futile attempt to wake up, blinking her eyes forcefully and taking a few deep breaths to buffer the already challenging effort to stay conscious. She felt her grip on her pencil slacken, the graphite leaving a gentle trail in its wake across the unblemished page. Only when her professor accidentally sent one of his textbooks crashing down from his podium did full alertness return to her, flooding her senses with alarming urgency.
The flustered man picked up his book with palpable embarrassment, nervously placing it back in its rightful spot. He cleared his throat hastily, diverting his attention back to the prepared lecture.
"Mendelian inheritance is composed of a series of gene combinations, the genotypes, and observable, physical characteristics of an individual, phenotypes. Phenotypes are expressed in the homozygote dominant, homozygote recessive, or the heterozygote. Alleles form through..."
Olivia's gaze fell back to her paper, where she was unconsciously constructing an intricate web of contours, complex spirals arching around the disjointed words of her notes. Her photographic memory had the ability to hinder her academic experience; she frequently zoned out from the formal lectures of her instructors, allowing her mind to wander as her hand frivolously glided over the expanse of her impromptu paper canvas. Thankfully, she was always able to excel regardless of her distractibility, fueled by her intense passion and desire to one day work to protect those who could not do so for themselves. Only certain days, such as this one, did her dreams of the FBI seem so far away.
"… In the case of incomplete dominance, for some traits the heterozygote has a phenotype that is intermediate between those of the homozygous parents. Which, simply put means this: If a red tulip and a white tulip are cross-bred, a heterozygous flower will emerge half of the time, a beautiful pink flower rising from the earth in all of its glowing splendor."
Olivia felt an unstoppable wave of euphoria surge up her spine, a gripping security overwhelming her to near tears. She felt the source of this fierce emotional storm buried deep within, a boiling, juvenile urge long-suppressed. She was taken aback by the notion that everyone else in the vast hall was conducting themselves in a stereotypical and unaffected manner, in light of her current, detached state. An innate fury throbbed against her chest, rattling her sternum, a potent force tearing at the edges of her carefully constructed presentation. The room was an inferno, blistering her neurons in a tidal wave of unyielding familiarity. The sense of protection and comfort was ephemeral but zealous, universally reassuring and frenzied at the same time.
Her mind was a sea of tender white in an inky abyss, softly bending to a mild breeze; constellations of radiant lights illuminating the corners of her mind. But, above all of these consuming stimuli, she saw eyes.
Two crystal blue eyes scorched the precipice of her mind, a hypnotic lure distracting her in entirety from droning reality.
It was such a foreign feeling for Olivia, to feel so calm in a characteristically tempestuous life. But, something about those eyes tore through her, spilling through her veins like a languid afternoon sun shine.
Although she knew in no way what they meant to her, her mind was at ease.
Because in those eyes, in that transient moment, she felt whole.
fin!
I believe so firmly that at the fundamental basis of both Peter and Olivia, they complete one another, in a strictly non-Joker kind of way. I HAVE BEEN DOING SOME SERIOUS OLIVIA-WHUMPIN' LATELY. Gotta' get back to my blue-eyed bb and write him somethin' good and fine. AND I SHALL, I SWEAR. ALL THE AMBITIONS DO I HAVE. Get ready for a storm of updates in this next week (hopefully) because I'll be free-timin' like mad (hopefully) and not hung-up by the fart-tastic scholastic obligations I am normally bound to (hopefully hopefully).
