A/N: Starting to cross post some of my fics that have been over on AO3 here as well! Hope you enjoy :)
She shifts on her feet, the heels beginning to dig and before she can make the suggestion, Elliot's pointing over to the table next to them and guiding her forward with his hand ghosting over her lower back.
She smiles softly to herself as he reaches around her, pulls out the chair for her. She wants to tease him about it - not that he's never opened a door for her or asked her to blink her lights - but the sheer diligence he keeps showing. How specific he is about pulling out her chair, or seeing the way she was wrapping her arms around herself earlier this evening and how he'd simply said he was going to get her coat.
She's enjoying it, the chivalry, the care taking. She can't remember the last time it felt so nice. There were times in the past she'd let a boyfriend do these things, but she'd always have to fight the instinct to insist to him that she could take care of herself and pretty quickly he would take her cues to stop. Now it feels comfortable. It feels something like love.
So she doesn't want Elliot to stop doing this. And she doesn't tease him about it. She just takes the offered seat with a smile and watches him settle next to her, their bodies angling towards each other.
"You're really staying?" She hadn't really meant to ask, not sure either of them are ready to broach this topic again. But she couldn't stop thinking about his apartment hunt. Couldn't stop considering the ramifications of him staying.
She's staring at her wineglass and she can feel the intensity of his gaze on her. She feels pinned in place, afraid to look up at him. He reaches over and she watches his fingers wrap loosely around her wrist, gently pulling one of her hands towards him. She watches both of his hands wrap around hers connecting the space between them. Finally she looks up and it's there, that way he used to look at her, layers of history, depths of untapped emotion, so much unspoken. In all their years together she had never quite figured out what it meant, even as she'd responded, allowed their eyes to connect, communicated without the words.
"I'm not going anywhere, Liv."
She didn't think such a simple statement could affect her so much, but the sob is there suddenly, clenching at her throat. She pulls her hand away, angles herself towards the table, manages to place the wine glass down as she takes a stuttering breath. It stops the worst of it, but her eyes well, a tear forming at the corner of one eye. She looks skyward, wipes the unshed tear with a finger.
"What's wrong?" She can hear his concern, his surprise. She shakes her head gently. "I thought this would be positive news." He jokes lightly and Olivia offers a small 'ha'.
She takes another breath. "It's good news...it's just…" she's scanning the space around them, avoiding the piercing inquisition in his eyes.
"I've really screwed with your life huh? Showing up after all this time?" Again there's the tone of joking, but she can't pretend this time.
She lifts her eyebrows, takes a quick swallow of wine. "Leaving in the first place." She whispers.
"I really am sorry." He offers again, a straining to be believed.
She nods, but what is there to say? She doesn't know what they are to each other anymore. She'll forget sometimes, that there's this chasm between them. It's so easy to slip back to how things were, reading him, understanding him so easily, feeling understood in return. But sometimes she knows how much of a facade it is - that they can't ever really ignore these past 10 years. That at some point they have to deal with the fallout.
That's why it's always Elliot and never El. She needs some sort of reminder of their distance, of the loss of trust.
"Who am I to you now, Elliot?" she looks back at him finally.
He frowns, focuses on her warily and she can read his worry, that the wrong answer may be impossible to recover from.
"Liv…" He's trying to avoid it and she isn't sure she knows why. Is it because he's not ready? Is it because he's scared? Is it because he has no idea? And maybe all of these things are ok, because she feels them too. She feels the apprehension, the fear, the doubt. She's been without him for ten years and was sure she was just fine. But he's here now, and they can't undo their history, their estrangement. And yet, they can't pretend that their history holds no power over their present, because all she has to do is look at him to know how false that is.
He doesn't say more and she's suddenly so tired, so exhausted and she just can't anymore.
"It's late, I should go," Olivia stands and he follows, his hand coming to her elbow then sliding down her arm to grasp her hand again.
She takes a breath and turns to him. "I know...there's things we need to talk about, things you need to - deserve to hear. There's so much I want to say…" He furrows his brow, his mouth opens and closes. "There's so much, Liv...when the time is right."
And she can see the struggle in his face and so she does what she always does. Because it's always been easier for Olivia to put everyone else first. The reassuring nod, the tilt of her head are automatic, the measured reassurance. She squeezes his hand and lets go, slides past him and walks away.