Hey everyone!

I'm trying to be a little better with writing again, so I figured I'd start small with writing more one-shots before I dive into writing lengthy stories again. This is a little something I came up with randomly tonight. Trevor loses someone very close to him, and there's only one person that he is able to be vulnerable in front of - his girlfriend, his Olivia.

Please enjoy xo

Right Here [Meant to Be Collection]

Losing someone was a hard thing to deal with. Whether the loss was expected because the person was sick or severely injured, or whether it happened out of the blue, it was difficult to process, and everyone seemed to handle it differently.

For Trevor Langan, he was not handling this loss well at all.

The loss wasn't exactly a shock yet at the same time, it cut like a knife; his grandfather was ninety-nine years old and had been in failing health for the last three years now. He had been living in an assisted living facility for the last five years and fairly recently - within the last year - had moved to a rather prestigious nursing facility for round the clock care. Trevor was very close to his grandfather and would go to visit him at least three or four times a week no matter what he had going on. Saturday mornings were his favorite times to go visit with the elderly man, as he would get up early to grab their favorite breakfast from a nearby diner then take it to the nursing home. His grandfather's face would light up each time he saw him, and the two men would sit down and have the same breakfast that they'd been having together since Trevor was a child while watching the morning national news and discussing recent events.

Trevor was at work just a week ago when he received the call from his mother. Oddly enough, it was a Friday, and Trevor had just been talking to someone about how excited he was to go see his grandfather in the morning for their normal Saturday breakfast date. When his mother called and told him that he better come to the hospital, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

And every day for the last week, he would go to the hospital and spend time by his grandfather's bedside, quietly talking to the older man even after he stopped eating, drinking, responding, and so on. He felt a tightening in his chest as the pure thought of his grandfather leaving him here on this earth. Each night as he went home to his vast Tribeca apartment, he found himself lying awake at night, begging God to spare his grandfather as he could not bear the thought of the older man not being here. 'Please God, don't take my grandpa.' He knew the thought was selfish, but he couldn't handle the reality of the situation.

He was at work earlier today - just one week after his grandfather entered the hospital, Friday again - when his mother called him with the news that his grandfather had passed away; a couple hours or so after Trevor had left the hospital from visiting on his lunch break. Trevor figured his grandfather hadn't wanted him to see that moment, the moment of him taking his last breath. 'Typical grandpa; didn't want me to see that.' he had thought to himself after hanging up the phone. Still, he hadn't been able to focus for the rest of the day; he ended up leaving work earlier than normal. He made it home around 4:00pm; he was on autopilot as he simply removed his jacket and tie, undid a few buttons on his crisp white shirt and rolled his sleeves up. He grabbed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator - he always kept his grandfather's favorite beer - then plonked himself down onto the sofa in the lounge. The television was off, the curtains were still open; the only light on in the apartment was the lamp in the corner of the lounge.

The hours had passed; day had turned into night; the clouds had rolled in throughout the evening and night and now raindrops fell across the city. The clock on the stove beeped as another hour rolled in; 7:00pm. The sound of the springs in the sofa could be heard as Trevor shifted his weight to stand up, footsteps softly thudded against the wooden floors as he made his way into the kitchen area. The refrigerator door opened, he grabbed another bottle of beer, then returned to his spot on the sofa. The coffee table went from having one empty bottle then two, and this would be the third. He knew he probably shouldn't be drinking this much, especially since he hadn't eaten, but this seemed to be the only thing calming the storm in his mind and heart. He couldn't shake this heartbreak. Sure, he had lost his grandmother a decade ago, and that had been hard enough in itself, but this was something entirely different. He and his grandfather were the best of friends and always had been. The man had been the only father figure he'd ever known. He was his partner in crime, so this loss - it hit way too differently.

He heard his phone buzz from the charging pad; incessantly once again, signaling yet another call - the fifth call in the last few hours. He didn't bother checking to see who it was. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

The buzzing stopped after a few moments, and Trevor simply leaned back on the sofa while taking another swig of his beer. However, a knock at his apartment door captured his attention this time. His brow furrowed; who the hell had showed up at his apartment at seven o'clock on a Friday night?

He stood up, and stood still for a moment to steady himself, then made his way over to the door. He checked the peephole, and his heart raced a little at the sight of brunette hair, brown eyes, and an NYPD sweatshirt. Even if he didn't want to see anyone, he could never deny entry to the only other person besides his grandfather that always made him feel happy and safe. He undid the locks and pulled open the door; she looked up right away with a half-smile yet eyes full of concern.

"You ignored my call." she quietly remarked, though her eyes still swam with concern.

"It wasn't intentional; I'm sorry," Trevor apologized as he stepped aside, "Come in."

Olivia stepped into the apartment; Trevor closed the door behind them then placed a hand on her back as he guided her through to the lounge. She dropped her bag by the entryway as she looked around - she took in the beer bottles on the table, the sight of the curtains still open, the darkness of the place apart from the lamp in the corner, the quiet nature as there was no television playing.

And then she turned to him; his eyes were glossy with unshed tears - and probably partly due to the alcohol - and he just looked so sad, heartbroken even. He sat back down on the sofa, and she sat beside him. He had texted her earlier in the day with the news; she hadn't seen the text until hours later, until her flight landed as she had been flying home from spending the last week in Seattle for work regarding their rape kit backlog. Upon seeing his text, she had immediately checked with Lucy to see if she could keep Noah for another night - which of course had not been a problem as Noah was perfectly content with being with his longtime nanny and her family - then took a cab straight to Trevor's place.

They were silent for a minute; she wouldn't push him to talk. She knew Trevor well enough to know that he would talk in his own time.

And of course, after twenty minutes of silence; "He was my best friend."

Olivia simply looped her arm through his, holding onto his arm and resting her head on his shoulder in a comforting manner. She knew that nothing she said would make things better, but she at least wanted to be there for him. She figured that this was going to be hard for him to process. It was even a little difficult for her to process. She had met Trevor's grandfather a few times over the last year since she and Trevor had gotten together, and she found the old man to be very kind and funny and so very loving. On one occasion, they had even brought Noah along for the little boy to have a chance to meet the man who was so special to Trevor. The old man was so lovely, so this was just a hard pill to swallow.

"When he first went into the hospital, he said that when he got out, he wanted me to help him plan a fishing trip - me, him, and Noah…" he stared blankly at the table in front of him, and his voice dropped to a whisper; "He wasn't supposed to leave; he was supposed to get better and come home. We were supposed to have breakfast tomorrow morning."

Olivia rubbed her hand down his arm; "I'm so sorry, Trev."

"It just sucks," Trevor shook his head as he tilted his head back on the sofa; "It was one thing losing my grandma some years back, but my grandpa is a whole different story and I just…I can't figure this out. How do I handle this?"

"There's no right or wrong way to handle it; this isn't something black and white that you can figure out," Olivia kept her voice calm as she responded to him, still clinging to his arm; "Grief is weird, and it's an ongoing process. You have got to allow yourself to feel."

"It hurts too much to feel right now."

"I know, and that's normal," She tilted her head to look up at him; "But you can't bottle it up either."

Trevor nodded his head. He knew she was right; he had a tendency to bottle things up sometimes or try to forget about it by drinking one beer down behind the other. This was a pain that he wasn't quite sure he could handle, but he knew that it would be an ongoing process and he would have to handle it. He could feel the tears brimming in his eyes, but for some reason, he just couldn't allow himself to let them out. Maybe he didn't want to cry in front of his girlfriend.

Or maybe the tears were a sign of just how real this was - he had really lost his grandpa today; he had lost his best friend; he had lost the only father figure he had ever truly known and loved.

His heart had been ripped out and stomped over. Death was so final, and so fucking cruel.

Olivia reached up and cupped his cheek, turning his head so he'd look at her. She wiped her thumb underneath his eye, whispering ever so softly; "Trevor, it's okay to cry."

She sat up a little more, moving her hands so that she could hold his face in her hands. Her eyes held his, brown mixing with the shades of cerulean; "It's okay; I'm right here."

Maybe that was all he needed; he needed to be reminded that she was right here, that it was okay to crumble beneath the weight of sadness and anger and pain.

'It's okay to cry.'

And before he knew it, he had leaned against her and buried his face into her shoulder. The lump gathered; the tears came fast. His shoulders began to shake; her arms snaked around him, a hand on his back while the other cupped his head.

And he did what he needed to do - he cried.

Sooo...what do we think? Please leave your reviews, it keeps me going. Thank you guys for being so kind and supportive. Love you all xo