It's not a word she thinks him often, soft. But tonight, with his weight gradually slumping against her - warm, quiet - she acknowledges it. She makes friends with the mass of the word on her tongue, the rounded corners of it. Savours the light quirk of his lips, the heavy lids of his eyes, the gentle tilt of his head. It's a far cry from the Raphael Barba she watches day in and out, the sharp bite of his tongue, the tense clench of his jaw. The warmth of cabernet is stretching its fingers across her abdomen and the muted city lights flickering beyond the window don't belong settled on their shoulders, but for tonight they accept the blanket.
When he chuckles the sound is deep in his throat and its timbre settles squarely on her sternum. She watches the bob of his adams apple as his head falls back across the couch. She's seen the many sides of this man, fought tooth and nail beside him, for him, against him. Fast-talking, straight-shooting, the Rafael Barba she met all those years ago was brassy and unassailable. Not that the Olivia Benson of those days was any better. She could never have envisioned, all those moons ago, that that smirk, that snarky quip would stand beside her through every case, every heartbreak, every hard night. That she would come to rely on his sharp chin movements, would learn to read his grip on a scotch glass. And yet.
It's in moments like these that she dwells on the cracks in professionalism they so blatantly rush past in the stress of their days - her hand too long on his arm, his shoulders too tight when danger swells, the early morning phone-calls and midday coffees and evening drinks. The topics of conversation never breeched and the barely restrained anger in his voice when they dare. In another world she likes to think that they could sort this out, that he could tuck Noah into bed at night with whispered Cuban fairytales and she could run her hand down the ADA's weary face as his eyes droop shut.
Instead she settles for his fingers barely brushing her forearm and indulges in the unchecked geniality in his gaze. Because Rafael Barba is not a soft man, but he softens for her.