A/N - Thank you everyone for your lovely comments so far! Please keep commenting and let me know if you like it!
The shrill scream of Olivia's phone cut through her eardrums. She swatted around her mattress looking to find it. She found it and pulled it to her ear, opening one eye to swipe the call. She was face-first in her pillow with a throbbing head and a memory full of patchy regret.
"Mmm," she grunted in to the phone.
"Oh, Liv…" she heard Trevor's voice, "you sound terrible."
She grunted again.
She heard him laugh. "I am downstairs… I had a feeling you'd be hung over, so I have a few things to cure."
Olivia rolled over on to her side and yawned, "The room is swishing. Why did you let me do this?"
Trevor laughed. "You poor thing…"
"Wait, shit, did you just say you were outside?" she quickly sat up but became so woozy she had to steady herself.
"Yeah," he replied. "I don't want to intrude but I've just come back from work and I thought you might need it a little bit of help with a hangover cure."
She couldn't help but smile despite her throbbing head and the pin holes of light that seemed to blind her eyes each time she opened them.
"Mmmm, okay let me just have a minute…I'll buzz you up…"
"Take your time," he replied.
Olivia tried to get out of bed as quickly as she could but she was still sluggish and it was her own fault for drinking half a bottle of red wine after Trevor left, if only to stop the fast and furious thoughts from intruding upon her brain.
She brushed her teeth and gargled some mouthwash which caused her to dry wretch in to the basin. She steadied herself and pulled her hair back in to a ponytail. She wiped her make up off with a make-up wipe to take away the smears from her cheeks from all of the tears she'd cried before bed.
The swelling around her eyes wasn't going down and there was very little she could do about it.
She texted him to let him know she was about to buzz him in.
She looked around her apartment—it was cozy and small but it was all she needed. Everything was neat and tidy.
After a few moments there was a knock at her door. She wrapped a grey knitted cardigan around her tightly and made her way to greet him.
"Oh, shit, how dare you turn up looking so nice and I look like… a dumpster fire." She had put her glasses on to help with the blurry vision. Trevor stood before her in a pair of black cargo pants and a blue, long-sleeved button down jean top that he'd rolled up to his elbows.
He was taken aback by just how sick she looked. Her face was pale and her eyes were puffy. Her hair was pulled back off of her face in to a messy ponytail which made him smile. "You don't look your best, I'm not going to lie…" he smiled good-naturedly. He handed her a coffee, "here… this to start."
Olivia wasn't sure if she wanted to drink it or throw up. She stood for a second a little dumbly, she was taken by how kind he was and how he seemed genuinely concerned about her. "Come in…" she held her door open.
She took the coffee and took a few deep breaths to stop her from making a run for the bathroom. "Oh, Olivia…" his voice trailed off as he went to put a plastic bag upon the bench top in the kitchen. "Did you drink this after we got back?" he wondered.
He observed her quiet, nauseated presence and already knew the answer. He picked up the bottle to find it empty and just a mouthful of red left in the stained wine glass.
"Yes…" she replied honestly, almost as if speaking pained her.
She set the coffee on the bench and he watched her move fast to what he could only figure was the bathroom at the end of a short hall.
He took the glass and poured out the wine while he listened to her vomiting, a little smile crossing his lips. Despite being concerned, he couldn't help but find amusement in her regret. He pulled the things out of the plastic bag that he'd set upon the kitchen counter.
Her apartment was small, he thought, looking around, but it was certainly hers. He was impressed by her huge book shelves full of books from novels to research. He wanted to take a closer look, but he didn't want to snoop. She had a two-seat couch black couch in front of the TV – something from IKEA, he suspected.
Olivia had a lot of house plants and windows with shades that looked like they'd never been pulled down. He pulled out a few cans of sprite, the aspirin, small dissolvable discs of vitamins that would increase her electrolytes and a DVD of a movie they'd discussed the night before that she'd admitted to never seeing.
He watched her re-emerge from the bathroom with watery eyes looking terrible. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, "you shouldn't have had to hear that. I'm disgusting."
"Its okay, I'm a doctor, remember?" he flashed her a smile. "How's your stomach feeling?" he asked, coming around the kitchen counter to meet her. He reached for her forehead, "you're really warm…"
"I feel like hell and I'm embarrassed." She glanced at the coffee, "I don't think I can handle a milky drink, but it was so kind of you…"
"Its okay, I'll drink it," he replied. "Here… I think you need to drink some water…show me where you keep your glasses." His presence was commanding but not imposing and she really just wanted to collapse down on one of the stools at the counter. Sensing she was struggling with energy and nausea, he pulled the stool out from beneath the counter, "you sit down…"
"You're really looking for a friendship award, aren't you?" she asked with a little laugh. He laughed too. She directed him to her cupboard with glasses and plates.
"No, I'm just worried about you…" he replied seriously. He cracked open the can of sprite until he heard it hiss and poured half of it out. "The last thing you probably need right now is sugar, but… surely it'll settle your stomach." He pushed the glass across the counter top to her.
"Do you have some crackers or something you can snack on?"
"I just woke up, I don't want to think about food especially since I just saw what was in my stomach and I don't think I can ever eat again."
He laughed and watched her take the tiniest sips of her drink. "What's the time?" she asked, squinting at her clock above the trash bin against the wall.
"Its just on lunch time – how late did you stay up?" he wondered, raising his eyebrow.
"I don't know, I sat out on my fire escape for awhile and enjoyed the city."
"Olivia, don't do that," he said seriously, "firstly, you never know who would be out there and secondly, if you've been drinking, you could fall…"
"It's okay," she replied, "I wasn't that drunk."
"You were," he shot back, "I had to help you upstairs and if you came up here and had more to drink, I'd say you were actually that drunk."
"Ugh," she moaned, "Please don't lecture meeeeee…" she rested her head on her arms on the countertop.
"Aw," he smiled, holding himself back from leaning over to smooth her gorgeous locks of hair. "Look, I think you need to rest…" he suggested, "why don't you go and lay down on the couch… do you have a blanket or something?" he asked.
She nodded. He let his eyes linger over her black cotton v-neck and her grey sweats. He had noticed her shivering despite it being a warm morning. She peeled herself out of the stool and half-heartedly pushed it back under the countertop.
Trevor came to her side, placing a gentle hand upon her back, guiding her to her own couch. He placed a cushion flat down on the surface. "Here…" he told her. "Lay down…where's your blanket?" he wondered.
"Oh, it's in my room…" he went to give her some space to go get it, but she looked at him with the tiniest pout that made him weaken slightly at the knees. Without her make up he could see freckles across her nose and he was able to see just how pretty she really was up close. "Could you get my socks too?" she asked him sweetly as she continued to very slowly rest her head down.
"Oh uh… sure." He was taken aback by just how comfortable she was with him going in to what he had always considered a no-go zone in a woman's apartment unless he was there for romantic purposes.
He found his way to her bedroom and pushed the door open. It was darkened save for a crack of light at the window. He edged around her bed and pulled the shutters open. Suddenly there was light.
Her room was big but still cosy. She had a lot of stuff. He couldn't help but to look around at everything. Yet another book shelf full of books. There was some folded laundry piled on her dresser. She had a chest of drawers against one wall. The first drawer was open and a bunch of dresses were neatly draped across it.
Her bed was unmade but it looked warm and comfortable with stark white bedding. At the end of the bed was the blanket he was sure she was talking about. It was a heavy grey knit throw that looked and felt warm. He found a pair of socks as he stuck his head in to the en
suite bathroom, they were sitting beside the basin. He grabbed them and grabbed the blanket and tried not to let his eyes linger too much more, but as he left to go back to her, his eyes spotted a red, lacy bra that almost made him gulp. It was sheer and looked soft to the touch and he couldn't get his mind away from the image of her filling it out.
"Fuck!" he cursed under his breath.
He passed it and stood in the hallway and talked himself through it.
He didn't want to think about her disrespectfully. It wasn't his intention and he didn't want to be like the rest of them.
He found his way back to the family area and handed her the socks. "Thanks Trevor…" she murmured. He watched her lift her knee to her chest and put them on one by one. He waited patiently for her to get comfortable and covered her in the blanket. "Do you want me to put the TV on or that movie before I go?" he asked her.
"Oh, you're going…." she remarked in a tone that he thought sounded a little regretful.
"I just thought you might need the rest," he replied.
"Could you just stay here with me?" she asked softly, looking up at him with her doe-eyes that he knew he couldn't say no to. Frankly, it was a welcome invitation to Trevor, he had no where to be and he hated to go to an empty apartment.
"Uh… yeah sure, of course," he replied, not expecting the softer, sweeter and needier side of Olivia Benson to show her vulnerability to him.
"Why don't you put that movie on?" she suggested. "Help yourself if you want anything in my apartment"
He looked around a little awkwardly, unsure of where he was going to sit. "Let me get the movie…" he said.
He grabbed Olivia's drink, the coffee and the DVD and returned. He set down her sprite on a coaster and organized her TV and DVD with a little direction from Olivia. "Liv, do you ever pull your shutters down so that you can have a better rest?" he asked, nodding at the sun blazing in to the room.
"I can't reach," she replied. She slowly sat up and moved over to one side of the couch. "but since you're a giant you could pull them down if you like, the sunlight is destroying me right now."
He went around and pulled some of the drapes down, darkening the room. "I can sit on the floor," he told her kindly.
"Don't be silly," she mumbled, "sit down…" she wrapped the blanket around her and leaned back against the cushion of the couch. He took a seat a little awkwardly at first but got comfortable.
"I'm sorry if I was messy last night, I hope I didn't embarrass you, I know I've embarrassed myself…" she mumbled, "I don't normally drink this much, it's just been a hard-"
"Liv, it's fine, I wasn't embarrassed, I had fun and I get it, it was a rough week, we do what we do to get through it sometimes. Now, can you shut up, lay down and watch the movie-"
"Where would you like me to lay!?" she whined.
"Well…" he laughed at how difficult she was being, "I told you, I can sit on the floor – or I can go home."
He smiled at her playfully despite how sad and rotten she felt. She pouted at him and he ignored the stir of feelings in the pit of his stomach. "No, don't go," she paused, "unless you need to, then you should go…"
"Dr Benson," he said, reaching over and touching her upper arm – she had discarded the cardigan she was wearing when he arrived for some reason, he looked at it draped over the opposite arm of the couch, "please, you're rambling, I suspect you're still a little drunk and I'm not entirely sure you're done vomiting, so I think you should watch the movie and rest."
She couldn't help but to let a smile cross her pale lips.
"You can lay your head here…" he grabbed the cushion and put it in his lap, "or you can rest your legs here, I don't care, just… please…"
She grabbed the cushion from him and rearranged it on his lap and fidgeted around for a moment and got comfortable. Trevor was surprised; he had expected her to rest her legs on him, but her warmth was welcomed.
She focused on the TV, reaching behind her head and adjusting her ponytail. "What's wrong?" he asked, "is your head hurting?"
"Yeah…I need a hair cut," she complained. Her brown hair tickled his arm as he grabbed for the ponytail, assisting her in pulling it out of the constraint, being as gentle as he could. "Wow, how do women have such soft hair?" he asked, "my hair feels like a cheese-grater in comparison," he joked.
He tried not to let his hands linger over her hair for too long, but he really wanted to run his fingers through the chestnut locks that fell over her shoulders and halfway down her back.
"We're just nicer than men, over all…" she mumbled.
He slowly dared himself to run his hand from the crown of her head, all the way to the ends. Olivia smiled to herself and closed her eyes. The rottenness in her stomach was just that much more bearable with the warmth of another person keeping her company; being physically close and seeming happy enough to spend time with her.
It had been awhile. She drew in a deep breath and let out a sigh that Trevor took to be her relaxing. He noticed her blanket was a little twisted at her back. He pulled it up for her, covering the exposed skin on her arms.
Olivia stared at the TV screen despite it being a little blurry. She was finding it hard to concentrate with his hand resting upon her upper arm. She tried to close her eyes but she was hyper-aware of his sweet, absent gestures; pausing to gather her hair so that it wasn't sprawling over her or getting knotted.
"I don't know if I can sleep with my head pulsating like this," she remarked. "Even my eyeballs hurt."
"You drank a lot, you are probably dehydrated," he replied. "I think sometimes we care so much about the kids and we forget to care for ourselves and we struggle to allow others to care about us."
"Mmm," she agreed, letting her eyes fall shut. "'So shut the fuck up and sleep?' Is what you're saying?"
"I'm saying that for you maybe it's new, but I've considered you a friend for a little while – an ally, maybe is a better word, or at least someone who I can level with who is on a similar frequency to me and I care about you as my friend and I think we both need company after Justin … and the stuff with Sarah… and you've got this hang-over…" he added with a little amusement, "so let me take care of you until you feel better and I'm sure we'll both feel better for having each other around."
Olivia was smiling to herself. "Thanks for being my friend, Trev, it's been lonely since I got here."
He agreed, "It's been lonely since you got here for me too," he replied, realizing in the moment how true his own words were. Even when Olivia was angry with him, he knew he could count on her to help him if it was necessary. When she wasn't angry with him, they often spent periods of time unloading about cases and discussed patients and sometimes briefly touching on their own feelings about things.
Trevor held back from sharing a lot about his sadness over certain things, or how hard he fought for the kids because he was concerned with making Olivia uncomfortable – but he realized that she wasn't as sterile or as closed off as she came across. Perhaps it was her loneliness or the events that had recently taken place that had made her more vulnerable with him, but either way, he was running with it.
"It was really good to talk to someone properly last night but unfortunately I don't know how to do that without getting absolutely obliterated first."
Trevor chuckled at her honesty. "It's easier when it's about the patients…" he agreed.
"Thanks for not writing me off as a total piece of shit for all the times I was rude to you," she said, her eyes still closed—both of them losing interest in the movie before it had even begun.
"I was at fault too, I was quick to judge and a little bad-tempered because I was going through something," he admitted, "so it's fine, you don't have to apologize, we're well past that anyway."
He picked up a lock of her hair and ran his fingers through the soft strands, marvelling at how long it was. Olivia tried not to react to the feel of his touch, feather light and gentle with her. She wasn't sure why her stomach was doing flip-flops and felt like a butterflies were being set off, but she tried not to think about it.
He continued smoothing his large hand over her hair, deep in thought, resting his head back against the couch. She felt a little hot. She wiggled her blanket down, pulling her arms out over the top of it as she tried not to worry about the quickening of her heart beat as his fingertips grazed her scalp, trailing over the shell of her ear and causing a physical reaction. She shivered and she knew that goose bumps had surely risen to the surface of her skin.
Trevor glanced down and saw the flesh that peaked from beneath the sleeve of her shirt covered in tiny pimples with the fine hairs of her arm standing on end. He couldn't help but to smile to himself. He had been hesitant but he knew the physical comfort was nice for both of them. "Look at you, you've got goose bumps and you're shivering, are you cold?" he asked, biting his lip so as not to grin.
"Mmmm," she replied, silently panicking that she had reacted. She told herself it was fine, it didn't mean anything, just an involuntary reaction that she had no control over. And it was true, but generally speaking, his touch alone would have wanted to make her flee. There was a reason why she was still in his lap – why she had agreed to lay in such an intimate way to begin with and it troubled her.
No, she told herself, you're sick and you're hung over, that's it for you and it's also all it is for him too.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and counted as she normally did to fall asleep because now she was feeling funny in her stomach for other reasons.
/
Olivia woke up late in the afternoon and was a little disoriented. She was holding a leg just above the knee, beneath a cushion with some confusion. It took a moment, but she remembered – the headache, the vomiting, the conversation and finally that she had been sick all morning from alcohol.
She slowly lifted her head and had to admit that she was feeling a lot better. She could hear Trevor lightly snoring and glanced at him, his head was leaned back over the top of the couch. She smiled to herself. She reached across to the coffee table and grabbed the sprite he had poured for her a few hours earlier. It was warm and the bubbles had gone flat, but it still tasted good in her stomach.
Lacking any real energy, Olivia got up and went to the bathroom. She checked the time – it was well after 4. She was hungry and still bleary eyed. She tied her hair back, remembering how nice it felt when he was running his fingers through it.
She splashed her face with some water and dried off, putting her glasses on. She re-emerged through her bedroom and in to the kitchen. She opened her fridge and sighed. She hadn't been shopping yet – she had planned to go after work the night before, but Trevor had taken her out instead.
She grabbed a few dry crackers and ate them while staring off in to space at the kitchen counter. She took an aspirin to get rid of any remnants of her headache and went to turn the movie off and turn on something else. She sat down beside Trevor, trying not to stare at him but it was hard. He looked so exhausted and had the traces of a slightly greying stubble lining the very beginnings of a beard. He had removed his glasses and put them on the coffee table at some point.
She found herself wanting to cuddle up against him. Instead, she pushed the stupid feelings aside and leaned against the other arm of the couch. She closed her eyes again, still not feeling the best.
/
Trevor woke up to find Olivia staring blithely at the TV screen looking tired and worse for wear. "Hey…" he greeted her, rubbing his face.
"Hey yourself…" she replied, "have a good nap?"
He chuckled and yawned. "Could have slept all afternoon. What's the time?" he asked rhetorically picking up his phone. "Shit! It's 5:30…"
"I know…" she murmured. "I'm sitting here trying to figure out what I want to eat."
"Have you eaten anything?" he wondered, sitting forward, without asking, taking a sip of her drink. He made a face. "Ugh… that's .. warm and disgusting."
"It's been sitting there all day, what did you expect?" she asked him dryly.
He gave her a little poke in the side, "you're so grumpy… do I need to feed you?" he asked.
"What?" she asked, raising her eyebrow. "Two nights in a row?" she laughed, "people will talk…" she managed a smile.
He shrugged.
"I don't have any food, I was meant to do groceries last night but then some guy took me to dinner and made me drink too much…"
He laughed, "Oh yeah, made you, did I?" He rolled his eyes playfully. "Okay well, we better get something to eat before you fade away to nothing," he suggested.
Trevor opened up a food delivery app and scrolled through. "What do you feel like eating? I know science says during a hangover we should avoid acidic and greasy food, but the life experience inside of us all says that that is exactly what you need." He made his way back over, scrolling through.
"I don't knowwww," Olivia grumbled slouching back, sighing. "You're right…" she looked at him as he put his glasses on and sank down again beside her, "I am in a rotten mood."
"Yeah, I can tell," he smiled at her. "I can go and leave you to it if you like…"
"No," she replied quicker than she meant for it to come out of her mouth. Her eyes met his and a feeling passed between them that she couldn't quite put her finger on. "Do you ever miss your patients on the weekend?" she asked him.
His smile broadened. "I mean, is that a sign that I'm a workaholic or that I'm just lame and have no life?" she continued.
"A little of both," he winked. "Who are you missing?" he wondered.
"I really miss Joel and Amy," she replied. "Evie too… I try to do something with her every day after her parents go to work before out patients," she admitted.
"You know, sometimes I go in on the weekend. I had to do something this morning, but I stuck my head in to say hello to Evie because she's absolutely the sweetest and she really has my heart, that kid…"
Olivia smiled at him. Both their passion for their job was definitely what drew them together, she thought, but her mind lingered as to whether there was something else. As if she would have given herself enough credit to trust her feelings anyway, not after Charlotte.
He realized that they were both just staring at one another – her gaze was magnetising and it was making him feel a little overwhelmed. He knew that she was on his level – that they had a connection, that there was something special that she had within her that he could relate to, that she would have understood his feelings better than anyone else he'd worked with or that he'd….
Trevor recognized the feelings within him as something oddly familiar yet incredibly foreign at the same time, discerning romantic feelings from the infatuation that occurred when he came across someone who understood him.
He looked away from her and back down at his phone, breaking the moment, feeling uneasy about the fact that he'd wanted to kiss her, that he spent far too long letting his eyes study her face, focusing upon her soft, pink lips.
"So, what did you feel like eating?" he asked again.
"I dunno…" she replied.
Trevor handed her his phone. "Choose something, don't be difficult, you need to eat," he told her firmly.
Reluctantly Olivia took the phone from him and scrolled through the available options. He watched her looking sullen and tired and if possibly, even more beautiful up close without the make up that she wore to work daily. "Can we just get Shake Shack or something?" she asked.
"Sure…" he smiled. "I haven't had shake shack in a million years."
"I bet you only eat organic," she teased him half-jokingly with a roll of her eyes.
"You saw me eat tacos and drink beer last night, I think you can rest easy and know that I don't exclusively eat organic."
She put her order in and handed him the phone back.
He put in his order for a burger and fries and ordered to Olivia's address. "twenty minutes," he told her, "that's how long it'll take."
"Thanks for putting whatever you had on the backburner to hang out with me today, that was really nice of you."
"Its okay," he smiled, "it was nice to hang out with someone. Most of my Saturdays are on the couch in front of the TV napping on and off unless I can't stay away from work," he replied "And usually by Sunday I'm so bored that I go in and check on everyone."
"I went in last Saturday," she laughed, "I couldn't stand being alone in this place. The hall had a weird smell.
"It still has a weird smell," he told her, "but your apartment is cute, I like it. I like all of your plants and how much light it has and your room is huge."
"Yeah, I love my room," she agreed, "and my plants are my babies because I can't get a dog." She paused, "but I'd really love a dog."
"Really?" he asked, "I'd like a dog too, but I don't have the time and it wouldn't be fair."
"Same," she agreed. "I just want to get puppy cuddles when I'm on the couch and someone to talk to who doesn't think I'm an asshole."
"I don't think you're an asshole," he said quickly, frowning at her odd remark. He hesitated for a moment, "Liv, did your ex pull a bit of a number on you?" he asked, wondering why she would make such a comment. He imagine there had been someone who had eroded some of her self-esteem over time.
She laughed sardonically, briefly as if there were any chance that Charlotte would have hurt her. She shook her head, staring forward at the TV. "No. I'm the one," she replied.
"You're the one?" he repeated, her remark didn't really make sense at first, but as she got up off of the couch and headed to the kitchen, what she meant started to set in. He watched her pull a bottle of wine out from a cupboard, "Liv, you shouldn't be drinking," he warned her gently, "you haven't had enough fluids-"
"Trevor, I'm having a glass of wine, don't worry, I don't plan on drinking the whole bottle," she rolled her eyes.
He was a little irate with her as he watched her look for a clean glass. "Would you like one?" he finally managed a little laugh at himself. "Sure."
"Please, promise me you'll drink a big bottle of water before you go to sleep tonight."
"Yes, Dr." She joined him back on the couch with two glasses. He knew if he didn't drink some, there was a high chance she'd drink it all of it on her own.
"So… you're the one that ended things?" he pressed, watching her take a mouthful and refill just a little more. He tried not to say anything.
"I guess," she replied. She held the glass in her hands and stared in to the liquid as if she might find the answers. "It just … the whole thing, the relationship, what I thought it was going to be, what it became—" she shook her head, "it wasn't what I wanted, it wasn't for me." She dared to look in to his eyes. She was afraid he would judge her but he watched her with concern. His beautiful green eyes looked right back in to her own, holding on to her words and willing for her to say more.
"This is with the woman? I can't remember her name, sorry."
"Charlotte… I left her. I panicked and I left her. It was just too much… pressure," she shrugged. "I know that's incredibly selfish… but it was my first same-sex relationship, being committed and living with another person—all these…labels," she struggled to find the words. She shrugged, "I think," she paused, looking up at his face to determine what he was thinking. He was hanging on every word, allowing her to share her story.
"Its okay," he said, realizing she was struggling with feeling unsure as to whether or not she should continue her story.
He motioned with his hand as if she should continue.
He watched her bite the inside of her lip for a moment, sitting back against the back of the couch. She took another sip of wine. "I had a traumatic thing happen before Charlotte came along," she admitted, "and I met her shortly after and I think I made a mistake," she started.
Trevor could hear the pain in her voice; the guilt taking up space within her tone with hands that he noticed trembled slightly as she thought about the situation. "I just needed a friend…" she blurted out, "I needed a friend and I mistook that as a need for romance. I needed someone I could talk to – but I don't talk well unless…" she raised her glass, "but she pushed for more and I thought that eventually the same feelings would grow but they just… didn't – at least not to that degree and it wasn't until I began to heal that I realized that I didn't love her. She talked about marriage and kids and I realized we both had different ideas of what that looked like for both of us."
"What did it look like for you?" Trevor asked quietly.
"I have a husband at the end of the aisle; not a wife," she replied softly. Trevor reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "So you did the right thing, breaking up with her."
She appreciated the physical solidarity. She nodded. "I just went about it in a shitty way and I feel awful that I wasted all those months fully knowing that she was head-over-heels for me."
"That's rough," he agreed, stroking her hand with his thumb. "but don't be too hard on yourself Olivia, we all make mistakes."
"Mmm…" she sipped her wine and nodded thoughtfully, trying not to react to his touch on of her hand.
Interrupting their serious conversation was a knock at the door. It was their dinner.
Trevor jumped up to get the door. Olivia sat up and set her glass down. She made her way to the kitchen while Trevor collected the food from the delivery person. He met her in the kitchen and watched her pull out some plates.
"We can eat off the wrappers, Liv," he smiled, "that's the beauty of fast food," he added.
Olivia left her plates and motioned to the smallest of dining tables that she got her hands on at a flea market when she came to town. "here, take a seat…"
He opened the brown paper bag and pulled out her burger and fries. "Mmm, I am really looking forward to this," she told him.
"The doctor in me has reservations – you should be guzzling water and eating a banana or something with some nutrients – but … here we are," he shrugged, "I still think you should have some water though, I'm struggling with that."
Olivia laughed at him. "Will you be happy if I trade my wine for water during dinner?" she asked, realizing that he was serious – he really did have his reservations about it.
"That honestly would make me feel a little better," he agreed with a nod.
Olivia got up and filled two glasses with water and put their half-full wine-glasses on the kitchen counter. He couldn't help but to notice Olivia had only a sip left in hers while his was still almost full.
"No more wine til that glass is empty," Trevor directed her playfully.
She rolled her eyes and took a seat across from him.
She unwrapped her burger and felt her stomach rumble. Trevor waited for her to start eating before he did. "Oh my gosh…" she took a big bite and ate a little too quickly.
"Slow down, Liv, you'll be sick again…"
She gave him a dirty look and he piped down. "I'm a doctor too, remember?" she told him, "I will be fine and if I vomit, it'll be worth it."
Trevor managed a laugh as he bit in to his own food, deciding to drop the subject.
They ate in a little silence at first, Trevor was lost in silence thinking about all that she had told him about her ex girlfriend.
"Why did you go quiet?" Olivia asked him, "are you mad at me for drinking wine?" she wondered, feeling a little self-conscious.
"No," he smiled, "I'm just digesting what we were talking about before…" his voice trailed off.
"Oh," she avoided his eyes, "you think I'm a terrible person, I can tell."
He shook his head again, "I didn't say that, I'm just thinking about how … restricting and claustrophobic it is when someone is assuming all the things that you've never expressed that you wanted."
Olivia stared in to his eyes, relieved that he understood her feelings and articulated them better than she could have.
"Yeah… but I mean, I should have spoken up the second I felt that, I just didn't want to hurt her and I was confused by what I wanted because I was in a bad place mentally and emotionally. I wanted the comfort but I wasn't sure of the capacity."
Trevor took a bite and set his burger down, wiping his fingers on a napkin. "Can I ask what may be an inappropriate question?"
She gave a chuckle. "I guess, but I reserve the right to not answer you."
He shrugged and smiled, "That's fair." He watched her take a sip of her water and set it back down. She began to work on her fries.
"You said you dated a girl in college, was that- an intimate relationship or just purely dating."
"Wow… just because you've bought me dinner twice you think you can ask about my sexual history?" she was joking but Trevor became very aware of how inappropriate it was and how he should never have asked.
"I'm so sorry-" he said quickly, "that was so out of line, I wasn't asking to be crass, I was curious about-" he paused, "nevermind, I'm sorry."
"No," she said quickly, "I'm not a prude, Trevor, its okay, I was just kidding. In terms of my sexuality, I am pretty open about it, I believe talking about sex shouldn't always be a secret, that's how shame forms," she explained, "so the answer is, no besides making out with a few girls I was dating, I wasn't in sexual relationships with women til Charlotte."
He nodded, "so… how do you go from being in a sexual relationship with a man to a woman? Is there a part of you where it feels … off? Or does it feel natural? I've been so curious about it since dinner when you made your comment about having a sexual spectrum."
Olivia laughed, "men find it harder to get their head around because intercourse is … a challenge that some men aren't really interested in thinking about, but it is what it is."
"I know, but I find it so interesting and not even in a creepy way – men and women are so absurdly different in the way our bodies are – women are so soft and warm and men are just… I dunno, there's something so sexy about a woman's body that I could never even think about a man."
Olivia laughed, "I think you just answered your own question – women have their own beauty that sets them apart from men and it's sexy and soft and usually tactile which isn't always the case with men. Don't get me wrong, the attraction of a man is .. otherly for me and as I said to you last night, I definitely find myself on the male side of the spectrum but every now and then a woman might strike me as a bit of a turn on… but there's gotta be more to it than a simple face-to-face attraction."
"Oh," Trevor thought for a moment as he took a drink of his water, "so, its not just physical, it has to be more than that – what if it's a man? Can you just act on the physical?"
Olivia shrugged. "I don't know, I feel like I'm a demi-sexual… that's probably what I'd label myself as if I had to."
"Which is…?" Trevor pressed, an embarrassed smile forming on his lips.
"Its when you're not attracted to the sex but you can only really want or desire to have sex with someone you feel emotionally connected to… there are situations where you just have to have some release, but as I said, I identify as that…"
"That's actually very romantic," he replied, "I like that, I mean, the gender of the person does matter to me, but I feel on a similar page. Maybe I'm that age where I don't want to waste time having sex with someone I'm not in to," he shrugged. He hadn't been that honest with anyone about that before.
"Really? Not one night stands or anything like that?" she asked casually.
Trevor scoffed at the idea. "Nah, that would mean I'd need to seek someone out and I wouldn't know where to start," he admitted. "I know a lot of people meet up online but I'm really not that tech savvy."
Olivia laughed. "Oh well, you can always learn."
"Well," he glanced up from his burger, "I'm also just not that interested in meeting anyone else right now," he said, holding her stare. His gaze made her feel a little strange, something between them passed through that he wouldn't have been able to label. She wondered if he felt it too. She tried to shelf the feeling, but it was a little spark of chemistry between them that she tried to fob off.
Was he telling her something without telling her something, she wondered, or was it simply a strange choice of words?
She peeled her eyes away from his magnetizing eyes and looked down at her food and continued to eat. "I get it, sometimes it's just easier to just be alone than have to worry about the drama that comes with it all."
Trevor half-smiled at her, "I wouldn't really say that," he gave a little shrug, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it to her. "I think it would be nice to meet the right person, you know? Someone who understands me."
Olivia felt the tiniest of flutters in her stomach, wondering whether or not it was elation, or just plain old hangover feelings.
"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed. "I feel like I'm just forever making mistakes and at this point, I'm probably too scared to take on a serious relationship ever again," her tone was ironic and they both knew that she didn't really mean it.
"Well Dr Benson, you've certain been through a lot," he eyed her, watching her eat the last few bites of her hamburger, "but the very nature of what we do is live with hope and it ends up bleeding to all areas of life."
She smiled, "you are an eternal optimist, aren't you Trevor? I can tell that about you already." She loved that about him, she could sometimes be the opposite and she was ready for some of his optimism to rub off on to her.
He grinned, wiping his mouth with his napkin as he finished. "Yeah, I guess I am. I have to be, really," he admitted.
Olivia began to ball up the rubbish from their dinner and put it all inside the take away bag and motioned for Trevor to pass his over. She got up and put it in the trash, feeling his eyes following her the entire time.
She couldn't place it, but there was a sense of comfort between them – familiarity that was or was not misplaced – it was nice and it felt good to finally have someone to talk to. The first few months of her stay in New York were lonely and it made her question everything.
"Do you want to attempt watching this movie again?" she asked him.
"Sure," he smiled, getting up and heading back to the couch. She brought him his wine glass back and topped up her own. He watched her and decided not to say anything, it wasn't his place.
She took a sip of her wine and grabbed the remote, glancing at him sitting next to her. He couldn't help but smile. Up close he noticed a beauty spot on her jaw so small that she probably covered it with make up most of the time. "What?" she asked softly, her eyes falling in to his, lingering over his mouth for just half a second.
"Nothing," he replied – but there was no smile and she knew that his 'nothing' meant everything. The couch suddenly felt very small and their eye contact was intimate. She slowly set her wine down, peeling her eyes away from his momentarily.
She sat back against the couch and turned pressed play, smiling slightly at their intense interchange. He was so close that she could see all the beautiful angles of his face, the soft fuzz of a second day beard, the eyes that seemed to penetrate her soul depending on the intensity of his stare.
And those lips, she thought, as she dared to turn her head slightly to glance at him again, those lips that up turned in to a crooked smile, for a brief moment she wondered what they would have felt like on her skin.
There it was, she thought, he noticed her stare and his lips upturned in to a tiny, crooked smile. "You okay?" he asked her, her beautiful brown eyes burned in to his. His heart began to beat faster and Olivia watched him as his gaze swept over her face. He lifted a hand and hesitated for a moment but couldn't help himself. He let his hand land at the side of her face, his fingertips disappearing between her locks of hair. His thumb grazed her cheek and she knew what was about to happen.
She wasn't sure if she was a little tipsy and wanted it to happen for release and if he was maybe a little tipsy too, but she willed his mouth closer, for him to close the space between the two of them.
She stared at his lips, a tell-tale come-on sign. Trevor noticed it too, he knew she wanted it and he was almost certain he was reading the room right. He leaned in, closing his fingers around the back of her neck and lifting his other hand to cup her cheek in his hand. Her lips were moist and pink from the wine and he knew that her lack of protest was her sheer will for her to press his mouth against her.
He watched her eyes fall shut as he kissed her – his lips pressing against hers, lingering and soft, guiding her mouth open slightly; grazing the tip of his tongue against hers.
Desire shot through Olivia like a lightning bolt a barely audible moan erupted from the back of her throat. He heard it and immediately his pants felt a little tighter. She leaned in to him, reaching up to cover his hand with hers; turning her cheek slightly, pushing in to his touch. Her heart beat hammered against her chest. She kissed him back a little urgently, wanting to feel his tongue again.
As soon as she pushed in to his kiss, everything she told him flooded his mind at once and he realized despite how much he wanted it, it was wrong, he shouldn't have. He let go of her face, her hair, her neck and he took her upper arms gently in his hands and pushed her away before it got too heated.
"Wait, we shouldn't- I'm so sorry," he said quickly, pulling away.
Olivia glanced at him with confusion. "No, it's okay-" she protested.
"No, it's not okay… I can't… not like this, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I did that."
She just stared at the arm of the couch, past him. She wiped her mouth. He knew he had hurt her feelings and embarrassed her. "I'm so sorry, Olivia," he said again.
"You should go…" she said in an even, emotionless tone.
He nodded. He stood up. "I'm sorry, I like you and that was not the way—"
"Yeah, okay, bye Trevor."
He grabbed his keys and his wallet and phone and glanced back at her when he got to the door, hesitating. "I'll um…" he fidgeted with the keys in his hand, "I'll text you tomorrow."
"You don't have to do that. Bye."
She still hadn't moved, she sat in the same spot, looking at nothing, staring in to space. He felt terrible, but he did as she asked and he left, closing the door behind him, waiting to get in to the car before he cursed out loud.
/
Olivia felt her emotions fill her body like a tank that, once it reached her eyes, it would overflow. She was humiliated; embarrassed that as soon as she had leaned in to him, he had become self-aware and realized she wasn't what he wanted.
She somehow felt it was karma, all of the constant rejections that had occurred since arriving to New York. One of her neighbours had taken a shine to her right after she moved in but something had happened and now he ignored her whenever he saw her.
Then there was Alexis, she felt worthless; like nobody saw the value in her as a person.
And Trevor, he was kind and sweet but his rejection stung the most – she had been vulnerable with him, trying to do away with the walls that she normally held up – he was very easy to talk to, she didn't struggle to tell him things the way she did with others. She wasn't looking for a relationship, that was true, everything was still too raw from Charlotte, but she wouldn't have minded feeling some affection – it didn't have to mean anything, but clearly Trevor was confused by her.
Olivia wiped her water-y eyes. She grabbed her wine glass and sank the rest of the liquid. She picked up Trevor's which he had barely touched and sank that too. She took a deep breath and let her tears out, sobbing to herself quietly and in a sudden fit of anger, hurled the empty wine glass across the room until it shattered all over the kitchen.
Regret hit her, she knew it was a stupid thing to do, but she didn't care. She made her way over to the kitchen counter, feeling a sharp pain in her foot. She looked down to see some glass shards reaching as far as just outside of the open kitchen.
"Fuck!" she exclaimed, swiping the half full bottle of wine and limping her way to the bathroom to pull the glass out.
/
Trevor felt terrible the way the night ended. He needed time to collect his thoughts. He didn't want to be that person with expectations, but he knew if their physical chemistry felt as strong as their emotional one—he would have expectation.
He knew she was going through a lot and it wasn't right of him to add to that.
Also, he thought, as he got in to bed, it was far too early on in his friendship with the new Dr for him to start having feelings.
Never-the-less, he did thoroughly enjoy her company. He knew that for once he had met someone who was on the same wave-length as her; they cared about the same things, shared the same medical interests and she was incredibly intelligent and he found that to be one of her sexiest qualities.
He glanced at his phone that remained empty of any messages or interactions.
He opened her number and hovered his thumb over the Message function. He bit the bullet and tapped it.
Liv, I'm really sorry about earlier. I really don't want you to feel like you did anything wrong; you didn't. I like you a lot, I love having a friend in you and I know you're having a hard time with your ex; I don't want to add any pressure to your life or confuse you or make you feel awkward about anything. I just want to be your friend. I think you are intelligent, beautiful and most importantly, the only woman I've ever met who thinks and feels like I do – you're the total package for anyone, including me….. But I think friendship is the best option right now and I'm sorry for kissing you but I won't say I didn't enjoy it for the briefest moment when I lost my senses. Please don't be mad at me…. Goodnight.
/
Olivia was just about to hit the call button on Charlotte's name that she had readded back to her phone contacts so she could know when to avoid her calls – regret and alcohol often led to her bad choices when it came to Charlotte and despite knowing it wasn't fair, sometimes when she felt lonely, she began to convince herself that maybe she had made a mistake. Then she listened to Charlotte's demands and plans and she would realize it couldn't ever be.
Her text blipped and she saw it was from Trevor.
She read his words as hot tears begin to slide down the sides of her face again. Relief flooded her for two reasons – she hadn't pressed call on her ex and his message assured her that he wasn't repulsed by her.
She thought about her response for a few minutes, feeling a little more settled.
Thank you for saying that… I like the way I feel when I'm with you, maybe it's because we feel similarly in a lot of aspects of life. I don't feel like I have to pretend too much with you. Maybe because we've both seen it all… anyway, I'm sorry too. Friendship it is. Also, not sorry I enjoyed it either, but let's be sensible co-workers and not shit where we eat. Goodnight Dr.
Trevor received her message and chuckled.
"Goodnight Dr. Benson."