A/N: Thank you to alrightabigail for helping me during my sleepless nights writing this. Usually, a chapter takes me two days, but this one took nearly a week to complete because I wanted it to be *perfect*. The song for this chapter is: O Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. Thank you for all the lovely reviews, they really keep me going when I want to quit.
The heart of a man is
very much like the sea,
It has its storms, it
has its tides
and in its depths it
has its pearls too.
-Vincent Van Gogh
There have been few instances of peace in his entire life.
As a child, there was never silence. Between his mother's illness, his siblings, his incorrigible father. Only when sleep found him did he feel sleep, and even then he was in a far land of dreams and impossible notions.
The transition from a teen to a man, a husband, a father, was all too seamless.
On the night they first brought Maureen home, he felt peace for the first time. His wife slept while he simply sat with his child in arms, rocking her gently. There was such little noise, only the sound of his beating heart and the soft sighs that came from his content daughter filled the tiny room.
Since then, his home has echoed with the sounds of his family.
His eyes drift open and he is wide awake next to Olivia. Chestnut hair fans out across the pillow and in the early morning light, he sees her silhouette. She's on her side breathing deeply, her shoulders moving ever so slightly with every sigh of her exhale and inhale.
Elliot is close to her. Close enough he feels the heat coming from her body beneath the blankets, close enough he can see the raised skin of the scar on her shoulder, even facing away from him. His palm comes to rest on her waist and his fingers touch her warm skin where her tank top has risen during her sleep.
This is love.
Loving Olivia for all these years hasn't come without its hardships. Here and now, however – he can't decide if loving her this way is harder or easier. The physical manifestation of their love for one another is now out in the open. It feels right, it feels natural. Something about that simple fact is incomprehensible.
It's hard for him to swallow that all these years he's felt like he's cheating.
He's always felt like he's cheating. Not on Kathy.
On Olivia.
He's broken his marriage vows. He's a cheater, he's an adulterer. The woman he loves sleeps next to him and it's all that consumes his mind. Her curves, her eyes, her voice. There were times in their partnership he was sure she would leave him again. Times he thought he would never see her again.
Yet, as she sighs next to him, his heart is content.
Olivia turns over towards him and his hand slips from her skin. Her eyes slowly blink open, she must sense he's no longer asleep. Whatever had woken him up just a few minutes ago, whether it was the rigidity of his habits back home or a bump in the night, he's grateful. Every stolen moment with her leaves him breathless.
"Why are you awake?" She mumbles sleepily.
Elliot shrugs his reply because truthfully, he doesn't know why. Maybe it was God telling him to wake up and watch the beautiful woman next to him sleep, to take in every moment he has with her like this. If there's a clock on this, he needs to cherish every moment he's got with Olivia.
His eyes dip to where the white lace of her tank top ends. Normally he wouldn't allow his gaze to linger for too long but now he looks. The lines are blurred and almost non-existent with them, so he looks. He hears the sound of her swallowing and then she's sitting up, pulling back the covers enough to free her legs.
Olivia straddles him. Her heat is all over him – the allure of her nearly swallowing him whole. His heart pounds for her. Twelve years of love should have prepared him for this yet he is consumed by her.
Her hands splay over his chest as she bends to him. There is no hesitation left; she takes what she seeks, and he willingly gives it to her. She presses her mouth to his purposefully, conveying her need and desire all in one kiss. He wants to tell her that he's never loved anyone as he loves her. But she will run from it, so he stays quiet and leans into her mouth, trapping her bottom lip gently between his teeth.
Olivia shifts on top of him, resting her weight on her knees as she pulls the straps of her top off her shoulders. They fall down her triceps and she pauses, pulling back from him enough to look at her. His eyes find hers in the dim morning light. She's biting her lip and grinning, and his stomach contracts because a woman that beautiful smiling the way she is can only lead to trouble. It's a road he wants to follow, so he hooks a finger in the front of her shirt and brings it down, down – until it's gathered around her hips. Her breasts are heavy and full in his hands, and she shivers when his thumbs brush over her hardened nipples.
He's never been with someone like this. Every touch and kiss holds something within it, and he can't take a single moment for granted with her. His throat is dry but she kisses him slowly, and while the rest of the cabin is silent, his tongue slips between her lips and into the hot cavern of her mouth. Olivia rocks her hips back and forth, and he can't help the way his own hips rise to meet hers.
"I want," she starts breathlessly, speaking into his mouth. Elliot opens his eyes to search hers, and his heart races at the nervousness he finds there. His eyesight isn't great in the dark, though he is able to see how dark her onyx eyes are in the moment. She's biting her lip again but she shakes her head and bends, lowering her way down his body.
She kisses down his chest and he realizes her intention. His hands find her upper arms in the dark, gripping her in a silent plea. "Liv, you don't have to-"
"I want to," he hears her say as her index finger smooths over his lips.
Suddenly they are indestructible.
She exhales the panic that had originally risen within her.
Slowly she inhales the trust she shares with Elliot.
Her back arches downward as she drags his boxers off of him. Each breath she takes is measured, she holds it for three seconds. There's no panic left in her – all that's left is desire. She's crouched over him on her knees.
Nearly two years have passed since Sealview. She hasn't done this in over two years.
This is Elliot, she reminds herself. He leans up on one elbow to look down at her, and he's smiling. It's not a smile of pity or resignation. He's genuinely happy here with her, his guard is down and hers ought to be as well.
When she speaks, she's more breathless than she thinks she should be. "Just stay still."
Elliot nods and lays back, splaying his fingers flat on the crisp white sheets. Her left hand holds his hip, and he's so solid beneath her. She circles around his length with her fingertips, her touch is so light that he shivers and apologizes. They laugh nervously together and she descends, running her tongue along the underside of him.
The laughter dies in the air between them. He's gasping and gripping the sheets, trying his best not to squirm underneath her touch. Her mouth covers him, swallows him. She's adrift in the ocean of Elliot with no end in sight, no land to save her from falling deeper in love. The men that have come before him fade away.
She's present and safe with him.
Olivia's tongue swirls around the tip of him. He's warm in her hand, in her mouth. She settles and takes him in fully, letting him touch the back of her throat before slowly coming back up. His chest rises and falls rhythmically – she sees the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his eyebrows drawing closer. Elliot is struggling to contain himself.
"Liv," he groans, pulling tighter at the cotton beneath his fingers. Arousal surges through her body now. It ravages her hungrily, seeing him so quickly losing control just from her ministrations on him. Her nose brushes the light dusting of hair on his lower abdomen while she hollows her cheeks out.
She's come to know the noises he makes. It's the higher pitch of gasp that lets her know to have mercy on him in this moment. With one last swipe of her mouth on him, she allows his length to fall from her lips and she crawls back up his body.
Elliot rolls their bodies until the blessed heat of him is on top of her. His mouth finds her neck in the soft, early morning light. There are only a few hours of darkness on the island, and they have come to an end. It's probably only three o'clock and she will never tire of the way the sun spills over the mountains and into the cabin.
"Thank you," Olivia murmurs into his ear. He doesn't understand what that meant to her. Maybe one day she'll tell him. It's not a thought that is particularly pressing to her now, not with him nestled between her thighs.
His mouth lands just under her ear, and the effect ricochets down her body. Her toes curl as his hand slips beneath the waistband of her panties. "For what?"
Elliot looks down at her, his blue eyes shining despite the low light. He cradles her, his free hand finds the back of her head and tangles in the unruly waves of her hair.
"For being my safety net."
The earth is soft and forgiving beneath her feet.
It's unbelievably soggy outside the cabin as she paces back and forth. The moss silences her movements, though it does nothing to quiet the way Elliot looks at her. He's always had a protective edge with her, but now it's more intense. For every step she takes, she sees his internal battle. She hears his voice in her head, telling her to lay low, not move too much. They aren't sure who is watching them, why, or for how long.
"It's gotta be this window, El," she gestures to the large clear glass. It's the best vantage point for whoever took the video of them and it has a clear shot of the bathroom and Elliot's bedroom.
Elliot hums in agreement. She pulls her jacket into herself just a little tight at that. They've had their fair share of suspects take a shot at them or have a vendetta, but this is beyond personal for them. The videotape is inside on the table mocking their inability to find the perp, but she's wracked her brain a hundred times trying to think of who it could be.
"Maybe we should tell Jacques," she hears him mumble as he absentmindedly kicks at the mossy earth.
Her mouth drops open and her eyebrows raise in shock. After all of the resistance that he's put up with Jacques, she's surprised as hell that he's suggesting what she thinks he is. "And show him the-"
Elliot raises his hands in defeat. "What other choice do we have?" His hand scrubs down his face, and for the first time, she sees a sliver of panic in his eyes. She more than understands. They're sitting ducks at this point – just waiting for their perp to come out of hiding and get them.
"Maybe there's a way we can show him and have it stop there."
The safety she had felt earlier this morning begins to slip out from beneath her. She will call Jacques in a few minutes and she hopes – for both of their sakes – that he takes the information she gives him at face value and is willing to take this as rogue as they are.
Across town, on the shores of Chesterman Beach, the body of a young local woman is discovered. A man shows up to work for the last time – greeting his coworker in French and handing him a coffee. It's their morning routine, and unknown to them, it's the last time they will share coffee together.
The man scratches at his growing beard, while another man seizes an opportunity to prematurely end a life.