I was torn between going straight to the action (the thing we all want to see and the consequences of their actions) but I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to show all this morning-after lovey doveyness.
Still, I think that Liv's actions at the end are pretty in character. Yes, I'm going to give yall what want, but I might have fun dangling it for a bit...
Yes, I have been absent for MONTHS. Unfortunately, I've encountered recurrences of some mental health... dilemmas... that have caused me to have to prioritize some aspects of my life over others. None of my hobbies seem to have made the cut, which is especially unfortunate as they were often my outlet for these issues. Regardless, I hope to be back soon and regularly, but I'm not sure about my ability to stick to a timeline right now.
Have a nice day and I hope you like it!
ALSO, does anyone know what the expiration date on works means in ? Will my work disappear from the website?
A stray beam of sunlight gleamed through one slat in the blinds, forcing Rafael's eyes to involuntarily close despite his efforts to wake up. He took a cursory glance at the alarm clock – 11 AM seemed much too early to include both their spontaneous romp and their lazy post-coital nap – before rolling over. Now free from the lone ray of light, Rafael noticed how oddly dark the room was. The blinds were closed, probably due to Olivia's habit of protecting her privacy from possible voyeurs, and neither one of the lights was on. The dim natural light that managed to break through gave the atmosphere a gray, tired morning vibe.
He contemplated, for a much longer time than necessary, if he should brighten the room. This endeavor, needless to say, yielded no success. When the light switch called to him, the warmth of the bedsheets pulled him back under to protect against the sudden cold. Rafael eventually gave up, refusing to leave the warmth that radiated from the woman next to him. An unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, feeling began to set in as new realizations dawned on the tired man.
This was where he belonged.
He felt at home next to Olivia, his long-term best friend and his new lover, wrapped in the sheets of the bed they just shared, breathing the air that was once rife with their pleasurable groans.
Thoughts of their previous activities poisoned his almost haze-like state, worries of their status invaded his relaxation. Surely, their platonic friendship would always be tainted with the knowledge of each other's bodies, aware of the sounds that the other makes in the climax of the passionate scene. It was too late to go back, he figured, but he didn't want to, anyway. Too many possibilities, opportunities to have a different role in Olivia's life, were passed on for these reasons. He wouldn't, and couldn't, let his doubts override his passion.
After all, they had agreed to try it out. They'd decided to give it a go, to see what happens. He couldn't succumb to anxiety now, of all times. Rafael, although he'd never admit it, had never been so scared and excited in his entire life.
Motion from the right side of the bed made him reflexively watch as the woman of his dreams rolled over on her side, partially leaning on his bare right arm. Seconds later, her arm hooked around his, holding him closer and absorbing his warmth. His fingers threaded through her hair lazily, barely touching the chestnut locks that he had admired for so long. Her eyes never opened or even fluttered, but Rafael had already memorized the chocolate eyes that often stole his attention away from his work. His mind calmed once more.
Even though her looks captivated him, the intense feeling in his midsection wasn't lust. It was something new, yet another unfamiliar bridge that he would cross in such a short time, that urged him to wake her up so he could properly embrace her. Wisely, he resisted the temptation and allowed her to rest.
Olivia, although certainly a beautiful woman, was so much more than simply "a real nice fuck" (a so-called compliment from a former suspect that made his blood boil). Rafael tried not to think about what he knew about her previous partners, although he didn't know much, because it disrupted this novel sense of inner peace that he suddenly cherished. They didn't treat her the way she deserved, hacking off pieces of her self-esteem with little care. Like a reckless sculptor, toying with things beyond their scope of care, they didn't look behind to see the dent that they had made. She may be one hell of a strong woman, Rafael reasoned, but shouldn't have had to be that strong.
His thoughts were cut short by Olivia's clumsy movements. She, too, squinted as her eyes lazily opened.
Rafael was careful not to touch her too much as she became aware, not wanting to cross boundaries while being wary of any potential temporary lack of awareness about his identity. He knew, more than any other member of the squad, that nightmares and touch sensitivity still plagued her. Still, he needed to find a careful balance between respecting undeterminable boundaries and making it clear that he wanting to pursue the relationship they had just discussed. Never for a second did he want her to think that he had regretted his actions, or more importantly, his promises. Not like so many had before.
Her lips barely moved as she whispered. "Rafa?"
He responded in an acknowledging statement. "Liv."
When Olivia had fully opened her eyes, wearily but dutifully observing his, Rafael's fingers nimbly traced her right shoulder as her other arm was wrapped around his. She shivered at his touch, her exposed shoulder becoming much colder than her covered one as she rested on her side, but she did not attempt to move.
Another raspy whisper, a louder one this time, broke the comfortable silence while Olivia watched his brown eyes flicker between her own and her lips. "Good morning."
"It sure is."
Rafael never broke eye contact as Olivia blushed at his words. His own cheeks rose with his small smile as hers reddened. The reflection of the window, although only partially brightened behind the closed blinds, shone against her eyes and Rafael was sure to memorize the image before him.
"You know..." He momentarily questioned his words before deciding that this was something that needed to be said. "I don't plan on letting you down. I meant everything I said."
His smile faded as hers did, but he never took his eyes off the brown orbs that stared back with a familiar intensity. This was no doubt a byproduct of her past, a trauma reaction to every betrayal and let down.
The sounds, as weak as they were, choked through her throat, filled with doubt. "Are you sure?"
Rafael's demeanor hardened but stayed compassionate, hoping to soundly convince her of his noble intentions while partially maintaining the relaxed atmosphere. "I am."
A couple of seconds passed as Olivia collected herself and reigned in her voice. Firmly, she blurted out one of her only conditions. "Noah comes first. Always."
"I wouldn't want it any other way."
A flash of relief graced her features, only to be soon replaced with yet another self-protective doubt. "And if things... I just need to know that we'll always be friends. No matter what."
"Unconditionally, Liv." He shifted slightly, uncomfortable but assured. "But you should know I'll do anything to prevent... that."
Olivia leaned back further into the pillows, the tension leaving her body one ounce at a time. "Thank you. I just..."
She stuttered for a second, unsure how to continue. Although impulsively wanting to assure her that he understood, Rafael wisely decided to let her continue. Something told him that she didn't often have the opportunity, or the confidence, to confess her feelings in this way.
"I needed to know."
Rafael tried to maintain eye contact, but his new lover quickly looked away, the intensity of the conversation a little too much to bear. Still, he spoke right to her as if she were looking back. "And I'll keep proving it to you, Liv. Over and over again."
Instead of turning away as her eyes did, Liv's head leaned into his chest. "It's just that... I don't..."
A shot of doubt, originating from his cheeks and traveling to his stomach, coursed through his body like a painful sip of hot chocolate in a blizzard.
"This means so much to me, Rafa." Each syllable began to show signs of stress, constricted by her tightening throat. It wasn't every day that Olivia verbalized her fears to friends, even to Rafael. "I'm... terrified. That I'll mess this up. I can't ruin this, after all, we've been through together, what we've just done, but I'm so afraid that I will."
"You won't mess this up, Olivia." The use of her full name got her attention as intended. He wanted this to truly sink in, past the armor and barriers that she had been constructing for years. Decades, even. "We won't. I'll make sure of it."
She inquired, not out of doubt but rather a need to be assured, what his plan was. "How?"
"It'll take hard work. It'll take patience and empathy. Thing is, I'm willing to put in everything I have. If you do, too, there won't be anything that can beat both of us."
Olivia could barely hold it together at the meaning of his words, let alone verbalize her intense gratitude for the man lying beside her. Instead, she opted to snuggle closer into his embrace, her forehead nestling somewhere between the crook of his arm and his neck. Tears welled, but none fell.
Her human pillow soon shook slightly as an arm raised and a steady hand met her hair, brushing through the brown locks repetitively. It was comforting in a sense, but exciting in another. Scary, too, all at once. Calm from the caring motion sank in as the domesticity elicited joy, and Olivia did her best not to catastrophize as she repeated his words in her head, although they were corrupted by the whims of memory when such emotion is involved.
A few minutes of comfortable silence later, Rafael decided to interrupt their peace in fear that her mind could possibly be leading her astray down dangerous paths, which was certainly plausible from his point of view and experience with her.
"Do you want breakfast, Liv?" He paused, in thought, before correcting himself. "Well, actually, it's more like lunch. I can get you eggs or something."
Olivia's lips curled upward slightly as she quietly teased him, her speech slightly changed as her chest was somewhat compressed against his. "Are you offering me my own food? From my own house?" Her cheeks reddened at the romantic gesture, though, which Rafael surely wouldn't have missed if he had the proper angle to see her.
"Perhaps." He grinned. "That is, of course, assuming that you have adult food in your fridge."
Her head hit the pillow again in mock embarrassment. "Ouch."
"Do you?" He sat up slightly on his side and gently repositioned them both so he could lean over her. Another mischievous smile broke through his usually stern features. "Last time I checked, your grocery list only included spaghetti and snacks for Noah."
Olivia, much to Barba's delight, audibly laughed at his playful taunting. "Geez, Rafa. Take it easy, you're going to kill me here."
Rafael fought back a chuckle. "Take it easy?" His mouth widened with a devilish grin, proud of his witty response before he even said it. Already leaning over her, his free left hand gently caressed her bare side. "I thought you liked it rough..."
His hand on her side was suddenly arousing rather than passively intimate, and her lungs partially stopped working for a moment. After all, hearing Rafa flirt, at least at this level of straightforwardness, was a new experience. Olivia quickly rebounded from her shock, however, and decided to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"I like it all ways." Olivia propped herself up on her elbow while resting on her side to match him, careful not to displace his hand. She was regaining her characteristic boldness by the second. "Or, rather, I like you all ways."
"We haven't tried... everything. At least not yet."
"I have." Olivia's body turned, her hand reaching the handle of her left nightstand and pulling the drawer open. "By myself, though. Only in fantasies."
Rafael sat up a little more, eager and curious to see the contents inside. Although there were different types of condoms and lube, the plastic and silicone objects, in various shades of pinks and purples, caught his eye. If he had pants, they'd suddenly be much tighter.
Olivia's lips drew upward into a sly grin. "You know, a late breakfast does sound nice." She punctuated her sentence by closing the drawer. "Maybe later we can explore a bit. But right now, I'd like some eggs. And toast."
A sharp whisper escaped from his lips, disappointed for the present but thrilled for when the future. "Tease." Despite his dramatic disgruntlement, Rafael's body was already halfway out of the bed in pursuit of her breakfast.
Ripping back the covers to force himself out of the warm comfort of her bed created goosebumps to form along his newly exposed midsection, and a realization dawned. "I don't have any pajamas."
Olivia grinned. "I don't mind."
Unable to muster a comedic look of fake annoyance, Rafael could only smile back.
She, too, was now gradually resisting the call of the bed in favor of waking up. "You'll probably fit in one of my oversized sweatpants and I have way too many leftover sweatshirts."
"Thanks."
After donning the new garments – he was momentarily distracted by their feminine vanilla smell that was a harsh juxtaposition to their worn, grey look– the pair entered the kitchen and took their places in relation to their duties, or lack thereof. After all, Rafael wasn't kidding when he offered to cook for Olivia.
Maybe it was a gesture of kindness, a favor of sorts. Maybe it was Olivia's exhaustion that urged him to take care of her. Still, Rafael couldn't shake his nerves as he whisked the eggs and cut the sausage into little bits for the omelet. He could sense her eyes on him, watching and observing with a lazy delight that somehow managed to equate to some sort of test in Rafael's crowded mind. Each cut was meticulously analyzed by him for accuracy and speed, but his hands shook slightly with anxiety and the whole ordeal threw him off-kilter. Would Olivia like his Cuban twist to a common recipe? What if she didn't? Would she think he was a good cook? Good enough for her and Noah? Rafael shook his head at the thought, remembering not to get ahead of himself before this train of thought snowballed into uncontrollable anxiety.
Hoping Olivia wouldn't notice, he proceeded with his back turned and didn't attempt to make a further attempt at conversation until Olivia instigated it a few moments later.
"We have a couple of hours before Don drops Noah off."
The chopping sound stopped, and Rafael slightly turned after a brief moment to get himself together, chirping out his remark in a low tone. "What ever shall we do?"
Olivia similarly smiled, dramatically drawing out her answer as she heard Rafael empty the cut ingredients into the pan. "Hmmm... how about paperwork? If I close my eyes, I can almost see the stack growing on my desk..."
Before answering, Rafael basked in the warmth of being able to respond in such a matter, as well as the relief of slowly becoming free of his formerly suffocating anxiety. To converse so freely with Olivia was a wonderful hobby; to be openly romantic was a marvelous sight. He had a witty retort ready, something about the firmness of her desk and its ability to hold their weight, but Rafael opted for conciseness as he truly began to process his surroundings. "You're teasing me. Again."
A couple of minutes later, and the stressful sport of trying to flip the omelet without breaking it had finished with Rafael victorious. The toast and hash browns, too, had finished cooking and were ready to be served. Both filled plates clanked against the breakfast bar countertop simultaneously, as he wanted to give her the first pick of which one she wanted.
Satisfaction roared through his chest like the vibrations of a rock concert as Liv quickly snatched up the plate closest to her and began to eat, expressing her satisfaction without delay. His mission, albeit an arbitrary anxiety-driven one, was a success.
After both parties had finished most of their meal, Olivia broke their second – or was it their third? – round of comforting quiet. "Seriously, though, we haven't been very productive today, and it's already nearly noon."
"I suppose you're right. We haven't been very productive." Rafael grinned like a schoolboy once more, almost unable to tell his own joke as he put down the toast that had almost reached his lips. "On the reproductive side, however..."
Olivia almost choked on a mouthful of her hash brown. It was funny, sure, if not a little immature. Rather than a smile, however, her cheeks slowly dropped.
Visions of long-lost fantasies flickered with intensity, reminding her of all the time they had sacrificed to hesitation. To fear of rejection. She felt instantly too old and too young at the same time – too mature to bear his children but young enough to barely grasp at her remaining chances as they flew out of sight. Neither 4 nor 7 was ever her lucky number, and it certainly didn't feel great to have them combined in this context.
Oh, what she would give to simply –
"Liv?" Rafael interrupted her train of thought almost immediately upon sensing her sudden lack of movement and her downcast gaze. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." The stool made a slight scraping sound as she stood up, heading towards the bathroom, before suddenly doubling back to retrieve her phone and resuming her course. "Just give me a sec, Rafa."
Despite the use of his rather intimate nickname, which was surely used on purpose, Rafael felt more on edge than he did before. The bathroom door closed gently, and his heart crashed into his stomach in perfect harmony with the click of the lock.