Thanks Lori for the beta.
He had shown up at her door for no other reason than just to see her. That was happening more often. But more times than not, he would drive past her building a few times and then leave, slowly meandering back to his place in Queens.
Tonight was different and it would have endeared her, really and truly and might have even caused her to choke up a bit. That was, if she wasn't already choked up, choked up and sobbing. The fissure had formed long ago, back when she was just a rookie, when she saw real blood for the first time.
It had grown substantially since then, but she'd managed to caulk it with coffee, beer, and more than a little support from her partner. She just wasn't sure it would hold anymore.
The humidity in the air had curled the hair just above her ear, had frizzed the hairs on top. She looked gorgeous and disheveled and pained and he couldn't stop himself from touching her, if just to stop her from breaking.
His palm immediately flew to her cheek, cupping it in a manner that was both friendly and concerned, smoothing over the "What's wrong, what happened?"
"No," she laughed self-deprecatingly, and licking her lips. "No. No, nothing happened. It's just... today..." The sorrow was still in her voice, a kind of hollowness that frightened him.
Elliot stepped inside and kicked the door shut with a thud, his other hand twining around the back of her neck to bring her a bit closer to him. "Tell me." His voice was raspy and pained and sounded like the first wind of autumn, rustling through dying trees. "It's okay, Olivia, you can..." But he didn't bother to finish, just quieted himself and stood with her in the dim light of her entryway, the two of them like shadows floating in limbo.
"He was so dirty and... Elliot, god, he'd been crying, and you could tell because he was so dirty that the tears had cleaned his face, you know? You know what I mean?" All too well, that's how much he knew what she meant. The sadness threatened to crawl deep into his bones, but the warmth of her body against his palms staved it off.
"Liv..." he drew out, bringing her forehead to rest against his shoulder. The stillness of the apartment) threatened to be broken by the commotion of the city outside, but the beat of their breath rasping out a steady cadence, calming the. "You gotta..." he sighed, but didn't bother to finish his sentence, there was no need.
Her reply was muffled into his shirt. "Mmm'I know, I know, it's hard sometimes and... god, let's just..."
Elliot's face softened as she pulled her tearstained face from his shirt and sniffled. Her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes and for a moment he caught a glimpse of her as a young woman, and it made him smile. "You okay, no," he stopped, before she could speak, poking her in the arm. "You're not okay, but I mean..."
"I could really use a beer," she murmured, and grabbed his hand to squeeze it, thanking him without having to voice it. He smiled, a lopsided thing, and held her hand as she trailed away, her fingers slipping from his after a moment.
Elliot watched her go and sunk his hands into his pockets, wondering if she wanted him there. The way she turned and glanced at him from the refrigerator had him shrugging out of his coat and meeting her to accept the beer she held out to him.
He cracked it with his palm, the metal bearing down on the skin of his palm in a sort of welcome pain. Tossing the cap into the sink, he brought the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull on the beverage before swallowing. "You wanna tell me anything?"
Her smile was lopsided, and he could still see where the tears had made their path on her cheeks. "Is that how we're going to do this?"
Elliot shrugged and watched as Olivia perched herself up on the counter next to the butcher knives. "I, I don't know," he said, wrapping both hands around the cool, brown bottle, staring down into the liquid within.
Olivia assumed the same position, her shoulders a bit more slumped, more defeated. "Uh huh," she said against her teeth, washing away the malice that threatened to bubble up with a swallow of Budweiser.
Elliot leaned against the cool, tile counter across from her, elbows resting on it behind him, his bottle clutched in his right hand. "It's hard to be here and know that you don't want me to be here, but still… want me to be here."
Her head lifted a little and she blinked, licking her lips as she attempted to wrap her head around what he'd said. "What?"
Shaking his head, Elliot stood, spine straight and downed a significant portion of his beer. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he tilted his head at her, "Never mind, it's not… it's… never mind." Head down once more, he scuffed his shoes on the linoleum, meeting her eyes once more before looking away and killing his beer.
The kitchen was yellow, the bright light from the ceiling bouncing off the walls, to making the room hum and glow. Her skin looked peachy, a delicious color that Elliot was sure he'd seen in an orchard once; something perfect and ripe and it hurt to tear his eyes away from her. "It's just that this is the hardest thing… I think I'll ever do."
A slight laugh came from her, "What is?"
"This, us," he replied, clearing his throat in the middle of his reply as he scuffed his shoes again.
Eyes widening, she chugged down a few gulps and faced him. "Harder than raising your kids?"
The smile that he produced was unexpected, but stunning nonetheless, and he leaned back on the counter as he had originally. "Nah, that's… instinctual… this is a challenge."
And just like that, the mood shifted from seriousness to one of flippancy. There were matters to be dealt with, emotions that needed cataloguing, talks that needed to be had. But in that moment all he really cared about was her smile, and setting her at ease; letting her know that he was there, was waiting, and would do next to anything to keep that smile on her face.
Her brow perched, "I'm a challenge?"
Elliot smiled, nodding as he and pushed his empty bottle back on the counter. "Oh yes, the biggest." He walked over to her, stood between her legs and rested his hands on her hips. "Liv, I want to be able to-"
"I know," she interrupted, placing her hands on his forearms gently. "And I appreciate it, I'm ah, I'm trying?" she asked both herself as well as him.
His hands slid up her sides to rest on her shoulders. "So am I, but, yeah, s'tricky."
"Mmm," she agreed, leaning down to him just as he leaned up. Their lips met somewhere in the middle and Olivia hummed her acceptance into his mouth.
It wasn't much, but it was something.