Chapter Seventeen: Evening

Olivia

Somewhere during my breakdown I've fallen asleep in your lap. My first reaction is shame as I remember losing control of my emotions-- something I've never done. Not like this. I can't believe I let you get wedged so deep in me. I can't believe I actually told you all of those things, things I've never told anyone, things I couldn't tell Huang even when Cragen ordered me to see him professionally.

This isn't like me. It's not like me to let people in. This is why you left me before Donovan was killed. This is why we kept batting up against each other, butting heads. Aside from the drinking, this is why we couldn't just have a normal relationship. And now all of a sudden after almost 4 years of an on again off again relationship, after 2 years of wondering if you'd ever be back-- I find that I can't keep my secrets from you anymore. I'm finally starting to understand all the things you were constantly yelling at me about intimacy meaning more than waking up together. It doesn't mean it's easy. It doesn't mean that airing all my dirty laundry was simple, or that it didn't make me nervous. I was petrified that you were going to leave me a hundred times today. In my head I get that thoughts like that are irrational, because not telling you these things is what you've already left me over a hundred times before. But in my heart I'm still scared to death that I'm going to tell you something you can't live with. Maybe that's why I started out with Jeff. Towards the beginning, putting my worst behaviors first, wanting you to see me at my lowest, testing you to see if you'll stick around, or if you'll be just be exactly what I expect of everyone-- unable to deal with the baggage I carry close to me all the time.

When I roll away from the curve of your stomach I see that you're awake. I wonder how long you've been watching me. I can see a sleepy droop in your eyes and I know you fell asleep too, I can only imagine how stiff your legs are. I may be smaller than you by a few inches, but you always teased me about how heavy I get when I'm sleeping. I've woken up this way before, curled in your lap, but back then the face that greeted me was angry, disgusted. Your hands weren't rubbing my back, stroking my tearstained cheek. Last time you had one hand held stiff against the armrest, the other stretched just as stiffly along the back of the sofa, your mouth set in a firm line, waiting for me to wake from my drunken stupor.

This time is different though. Looking at your face I see different things in your eyes. I see the tearstains on you cheeks; I see the concern in your eyes, that place on your lip that you bite when you're worried. You look relieved to see my eyes open, and you lean down to place the barest flutter of a kiss on my lips.

You're the first of us to speak, "Hi."

"Hi."

"Feel better?"

"You're still here."

"Where would I go? The cartel is out to get me remember?" There's a twinkle in your eyes all of a sudden, but my stomach turns at your attempt at levity. Even though it's finally over I don't think I'll ever stop worrying about losing you to them again.

"Don't joke like that, Alex. I know you feel like things are back to normal but that's no reason to let our guard down." I pull myself off your lap and stretch out all the joints that are out of wack from being curled first in a box on the chair, and then in a ball in your lap. I rearrange, staying on the sofa next to you, stretching my legs for a minute before tucking them under me Indian style. You arch your back in a stretch, and pick your feet up off the floor, pulling up first one knee, then the other, then rubbing your thighs, probably trying to get the feeling back from where my head lay heavy on you. Then you settle back, turning towards me and mimicking the tuck of my legs.

I can't help but laugh seeing you sitting awkwardly on your legs. It's clearly not comfortable, and you get a vaguely perturbed look on your face as you shift, trying to find a comfortable way to fold your legs like mine. Finally you give up and modify your position. One foot rests on the floor, the other tucked partway under you.

"Did you sleep long?"

"No, mostly I watched you. You were still crying even after you fell asleep. Although you did seem to stop shaking once you were really out. I thought about trying to find a blanket but I was afraid to move you. I didn't want you to wake up and think I was gone." It amazes me that after all this time you can still tell what I'm thinking.

"Sorry if I cut off the circulation for awhile…"

"Geez Livvy, you're not that heavy. I mean, it wasn't the most comfortable position, but it was better than the time we tried to do it on my desk at work."

I watch your eyes sparkle again. And this time I do laugh, remembering about how I thought you'd lost your mind. And then having to hide under your desk when Arthur knocked on the door to check on some papers.

You lean into me again, this time kissing below my ear before you whisper, "It's good to hear you laughing."

I almost miss that you've called me Livvy. I guess today there are firsts for both of us. I wonder what time it is, how long we've been asleep and I realize I never put my watch back on this morning. You predict my thoughts again and peek at yours while you turn towards the window.

"It's evening already. We slept longer than I thought. I guess I lost track of time while I was holding you..."

I know you don't want to finish your thought, and I hope that you won't but for the first time since you've been back you disappoint me,

"There are still things we need to talk about, Livvy. You had your turn, and I know you think I've had more than my fair say before I left, but you're not the only one who's changed during these last two years. There are things I need to say too."

I think maybe I was more afraid of this than I was when I started confessing to you last night.

Alex

I did sleep for a bit, but I woke up as my upper body began to fall downward, pulling awkwardly at a cranky muscle in my back. The quick blast of pain in my lower back jerks me back up, and I quickly look down to see if I've woken you. I didn't need to worry, you're sleeping so deeply, and once you stopped crying I was relieved to see that you seemed untroubled by nightmares for once.

I spend my time waiting for you to wake up, rubbing your back and tracing the tearstains on your cheeks. My thighs are tingly from the weight of you in my lap, but your sleepy breath on the stomach of my t-shirt is too delicious for me to care much about the feeling fleeing from my legs. When you finally start to roll away from me I can't fight off the unbidden memory of the last time you woke up here, head in my lap, where you plopped it before you passed out on the couch.

It made me so angry, the way you manipulated me when you were drunk. How you hid it from me until you had your head in my lap, trying to kiss me with the stench of alcohol on your breath, you'd drunk so much I could still taste the vodka on your lips as I tried to push you away from me. I didn't get a chance to roll you out of my lap and take my work to the bedroom-- you pass out in my lap, and I'm trapped by the weight of your drunkenness curled in my lap. I stretch my arms out on the side and back of the sofa and try to touch you as little as possible while I wait for you come to. It was the last time we fought about your drinking. And the first time I ever left you.

I'm happy to replace that memory with this one. I'm sure I look like crap, I cried almost as much as you did once you finally fell asleep. The sight of you huddled in my lap like a child was too much for me. I started to regret the demands I'd made of you all these years. No. That's not right. I don't regret finally knowing the things that make you cry out at night, turning and pitching under our covers. And as hard as I know the York situation was for you, I'm touched that your feelings for me were so deep that even after I've been gone the mistakes of your past immediately make you think of their affect on me. It's good to finally know that your silence all those years wasn't because you didn't care. I mean, I knew that. I never doubted that you loved me, but somehow hearing the agony in your voice cemented it.

"I worried that maybe I could have given it to you."

With one sentence you destroyed yourself, and erased every fear I felt about the core of our relationship.

I'm called back to the present by the sight of you opening your eyes and taking me in. I watch you blink away your sleepiness and then lean in the leave a soft kiss on your lips before I break our silence,

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Feel better?"

"You're still here."

"Where would I go? The cartel is out to get me remember?" It's a tasteless joke, I know, but I can't help trying to lighten the mood. I can tell right away it was the wrong thing to say, as you're suddenly wide-awake, that familiar flash in your eyes.

"Don't joke like that, Alex. I know you feel like things are back to normal but that's no reason to let our guard down." You pull yourself out of my lap and stretch, ending up sitting on your legs Indian style, facing the window, my body sitting normally on the sofa, perpendicular to you. My neck hurts turning towards you and I finally stretch myself, pulling my knees to my chest on at a time to work out the stiffness. I rub at my things, getting my blood moving again, and then try to mirror your pose. Even though I'm not that much taller than you are, you always did say I'm all leg and I can't find a comfortable way to position my legs beneath my on the sofa cushion. I finally give up and leg one leg dangle over the sofa with my bare foot back on the cold wood floor. This way I'm facing you and I don't have to feel the stress that hasn't worked all the way out of my back and neck. I take a minute to tip my head from side to side hoping to pop the stiffness out as you speak.

"Did you sleep long?"

"No, mostly I watched you. You were still crying even after you fell asleep. Although you did seem to stop shaking once you were really out. I thought about trying to find a blanket but I was afraid to move you. I didn't want you to wake up and think I was gone."

"Sorry if I cut off the circulation for awhile…"

"Geez Livvy, you're not that heavy. I mean, it wasn't the most comfortable position, but it was better than the time we tried to do it on my desk at work." I take a risk with that name. Only one other person has ever used it, and for years I've wanted to find a way to change the way it sounded in your ears. I'm relieved to hear you laugh, even though I'm sure it's more about the reference to my solitary wild idea and not about the nickname.

I lean into you again, kissing the dip just below your earlobe and whisper my approval, " It's good to hear you laughing." I notice you looking around; see that your wrist is empty of the huge man's watch you insist on wearing. I turn my face towards the window and check my own thin watch face, "It's evening already. We slept longer than I thought. I guess I lost track of time while I was holding you…" I know this moment can't last forever, but I don't want to finish this thought. "There are still things we need to talk about, Livvy. You had your turn, and I know you think I've had more than my fair say before I left, but you're not the only one who's changed during these last two years. There are things I need to say too."

I can see fear brewing deep in your eyes again, and I kiss your closed lips quickly again, trying to assuage your worries.