A/N: Just a little two part ficlet to prove I'm still here! Who knew masters programmes would take your entire brain capacity?
your side of the bed
He shouldn't. Really, he shouldn't. She's busy, and they broke up and he really shouldn't, but he's on her goddamn side of the bed and that's ridiculous in and of itself. So, before he can think himself out of it, he presses call.
Honestly, he doesn't think she'll answer. And he's okay with that. They had told each other two weeks. Two weeks until his term ended, and then he moved away, and that was it. She doesn't owe him anything. So, if she doesn't pick up, he's fine with it.
That doesn't stop the somersault in his stomach when he finally hears the call connecting.
"Hello?" She sounds confused, and slightly out of breath, which makes sense because she's at his ex-wife's inaugural ball, and she probably had to rush to escape the crowd before he hung up.
"Livvie," he breathes, "hi."
"Fitz, I— is everything okay? Because, I'm—"
"I know," he cuts her off. "I shouldn't be calling, I'm sorry."
There's a pause because he hadn't exactly thought this through past the innate need to hear her voice, and she's still waiting for him to explain.
"I'm in Vermont."
"You're in Vermont."
"And you're not."
"Fitz."
"I know. I'm not— I don't want you here." He hears her sharp intake of breath at that and scrambles to make up for what must have felt like a knife to the stomach. "That's not what I meant, I always want you with me. But, you need to be there, and I want you to be happy. So, I just," he pauses, collecting his thoughts for a second. "This house is so big."
She chuckles, "You got that right."
"I got here this evening and it felt so big and so empty, emptier than the night I brought you here and I couldn't figure out why, because it's now there's… furniture. And then I got into bed, and I'm on your side."
"You hate my side," she murmurs, lips upturned because it's a well worn inside joke, and it feels like home.
"I know. I didn't even think about it, I just ended up here. And I turned on the news and they were talking about us and I miss you so much, Liv."
"Fitz, I can't come up there."
"I know you can't," he whispers, eyes closed and teeth gritted. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called, I'll just—"
"Wait," she butts in, "you don't have to hang up, we can talk."
He doesn't argue because he's afraid she'll give in and he doesn't want that.
"How's the party?" he asks, instead.
He imagines she's rearranging herself to settle into a more comfortable position now that the conversation has shifted to lighter territory.
"It's… like you would expect. Big. Loud. Full of people who think they're on some sort of moral high ground," she laughs. "Mellie seems really happy. She's relaxed."
"I'm glad," Fitz mumbles, "she deserves this."
She can hear him shuffling awkwardly in the bed as he speaks, and she tips her head back against the wall behind her, asking, "What are you doing?"
"Moving back to my side," he admits. "I hate your side."
He's saying thank you, letting her know she helped him without being explicit, because he's still so scared of scaring her away. When she doesn't respond he asks her how she's feeling about tomorrow, and he can almost feel the guard she puts up upon hearing the question through the phone.
"Liv, what is it?" he asks.
"Nothing, I'm just… I'm a little nervous, that's all."
"You're sure that's all?"
"I'm sure," she promises, and he accepts even though he doesn't quite believe her.
"Well it's good to be nervous," he tells her, "but we both know you're the best person for this job."
"I know," she agrees, not arrogance, just facts, as she told him once.
A silence settles between them that's equal amounts comfortable and charged, and eventually he can't take it anymore.
"On the news, they were discussing whether or not we broke up."
"Oh," Liv sighs.
"Did we?" he asks, sounding so much like a hurt little kid that she would give anything to be able to hug him.
"Fitz," she gets out, her voice breaking. "I can't… I need to focus. We decided."
"Right," he sighs. "It's just… you kissed me in front of the entire world and now you're talking to me in the middle of the night and this just doesn't feel very… broken up."
"I was saying goodbye," she whispers.
It stings.
"I was thinking… um, before I called you," he starts, desperate to push the conversation as far away from 'goodbye' as possible. "I was thinking about how we always used to talk about when I'd leave office and everything would be so perfect, we could just be together without any secrets or lies. And now we're here and we just — why did we give up so easily?"
"Fitz, it's late," Olivia replies. "And I'm a little bit tipsy, and I'm starting a new job tomorrow, I don't think I can talk about this right now."
"Right," he acquiesces, swallowing back the lump that has formed in his throat.
"I'm sorry."
"Your birthday's coming up soon," he says then.
"It is," she confirms, confused at the turn he's taken.
"Can I call you? On your birthday?"
"I—"
"You can say no, if it's too much. But, I just thought… it might be nice."
She considers the proposition for a few moments, unsure whether she would be able to handle it, given everything, but eventually she gives in.
"Okay," she tells him. "I would love that. Um, I'm gonna go now."
"Goodbye, Livvie. And best of luck tomorrow. I know you don't need me to tell you this, but I know you'll do great."
She hangs up without responding but he knows she appreciated the words. When he looks around, the house feels just as big, but somehow less empty, as if somehow she has infiltrated the walls now.
Still, when he wakes up in the morning, he's on her side of the bed.
A/N: I have part two, involving the birthday call, in the works. Please leave a review if you enjoyed, I would really appreciate that!