a/n: i just wanted to say thank you guys for all the lovely reviews! i didn't think these ficlets would get much attention, so your comments always make me smile! ❤︎
prompt: brush
rating: g
"Chamomile," Elliot says, arm outstretched. He doesn't grimace like he used to, like he did the first time she'd ordered it, the first time she'd made him try it. Olivia smiles in lieu of a thanks and takes the offered cup, not thinking about the way their fingers brush.
She switched to tea again two weeks ago. They both know it won't last; it never does. The need for caffeine always cracks her resolve. Still, it's nice that he'd remembered.
Elliot takes the seat beside her, his cup of coffee held in one hand, a case file in the other. The warmth of his body trickles over instantly, heat seeping into her jacket, her jeans, her skin: court bench, too small. Their bodies press together from shoulder to thigh, and Olivia swallows around a sip of tea.
After all, she needs to blame the way her stomach warms on something.