Dark and Strange Like Dying
His lips are so warm.
She is powerless as their breathing quickens. The room is full of explosive air, shattering cracks and ruptures as they embrace. Elliot is shaking but Olivia isn't. This is what they both need, she tells herself. It feels right. It feels...
...like I could die. Why does he do these things to me? I tried not to love him all these years.
It was true. Olivia squashed the feeling into her subconsious. Sometimes it would bubble up in odd ways and the urge to reach out and touch him became too great. The self-denial took its toll in every lonely Saturday night spent watching old movies.
This is a Sunday.
She wants him so badly. She doesn't just want a kiss. It has to be something more this time. No raw confessionals in the hospital anymore. Just skin on skin, body on body. They're getting there. Elliot's tears drip into her mouth. She's crying too. Nothing's ever come simply in her short life. Especially him.
He begins to kiss his way down her neck. Their arms untangle and she unbuttons his shirt from the bottom up. There's something savage about it, this new thing. Elliot's not being gentle with his teeth against the gooseflesh that's suddenly enveloping Olivia's body. She runs her hands across his chest. They're both stepping closer to the couch at the same time.
Two stubborn creatures in a partnership built on sand. He viewed it as betrayal, she saw it as survival, getting away from the brick that had been sinking her these last few years. Anger practically bled from his pores. His eyes had turned dark and strange like dying, heavy-lidded black shrouds.
It's never been like this.
Elliot's hands roughly clasp her breasts and she pulls him down on the couch, fumbling frantically with his belt. He grabs her wrists, stopping the movement of her hands. Olivia looks up only to see a ghost of a smile on his face.
"We can go slow," he purrs. Her eyes go blank and the only thing left to do is nod. They just lay there for a few minutes. Elliot strokes her hair lazily, humming a song to himself.
"I didn't want to be mad at you," Olivia says, breaking their silence. "There was just no other way."
His breath hitches; she can hear it because her head's against his chest. Elliot will not apologize. He never does. But the feel of his skin makes up for the hurtful words and the tears and the angry stares and the office gossip. "I...I didn't want to hurt you," he stammers.
There are ten faint bruise marks on her upper arms. They'll be bright purple by morning. So they had a fight. So he grabbed her a little harder than he should. Olivia responded with a face searing slap, leaving her own imprint on his cheek.
Who's the real problem here, partner? We can't fight all the time. I'll stop winning.
He was on the way out when there was one last look. Their eyes locked. Everything was so sad and desperate now. All the prayers she said about him were gone into nothingness. Nothing existed between them anymore, not marriage or partnership or friendship.
They both closed the gap with a kiss. Now Elliot was taking her clothes off with shaking hands. When they're both down to just skin all the barriers are gone. It's like they float away, dark crows against the setting sun. She led him into the bedroom and relinquished control of herself for the first time ever. Sure, she'd been with other men, but she always tried to maintain some level of control.
Now her weak body was in Elliot's hands. His formerly harsh advances have become very gentle and loving.
Kathy, was he always like this in bed? Why did you leave him? Did you have the bruises, too?
Olivia shivers when it's over, huddling in the blankets next to him. Elliot is asleep, a contented smile on his face. She watches him for a long time. Something has ended between them, but there is now something new. It's exciting and a little bit scary.
She wonders if they'd end up tearing each other to bits.
Or would this actually work?
We might just die in the process, she thinks. But before there are any answers, OIivia falls asleep.
He leaves a note by the bed the next morning.