Holy COW it took FOREVER to update this story. I don't know, I was on a roll and then suddenly: BAM. Dead end. Could not think of anything to write. Worst case of writers block ever. So, I kinda just tried to wrap this up as best as I could. Hope you like it enough.
She hadn't wanted him to come. He could tell by the way her eyes flickered around the room when he offered. But he didn't back down, and she was forced to allow him the passenger seat. She wanted to pretend like nothing happened? Then they were going to pretend like nothing happened. He went on stake-outs with her when he wasn't needed, so un-needed he came. Besides, how often did someone get to intercept a drug deal?
With a caramel macchiato to warm his stomach, a beautiful yet distant blonde to hold his attention, Peter enjoyed the view of the dark alleyway full of littered trash and moldy something-or-others.
Wasn't he glad he was blackmailed into returning to Boston?
"So," Peter sighed, "what's this kid's name again?"
"Malcom," Olivia answered, not even glancing over to look at him. But not because she was grinding her teeth, ignoring him. No, she was buckling down for the task at hand, watching the alley closely.
They were parked across the street from the entrance, the right side of the car facing it. So, if he wanted to look into the alleyway, he'd have to lean to look past Olivia and out of her window. Perfect, by the end of the night he'd grow a hunch. Sitting so his back was pressed against the seat, he resorted to peering at the street and sidewalks over the rim of his coffee.
The sun had pretty much set, casting outside in a blue-ish glow. A few stars peeked through, and he was reminded of the little poem his mom had taught him to say at sight of them. Star light, star bright, he mused to himself. Back then he would wish for things like a new bike, or a little brother. Two things he never received. And after spending a straight month wishing his father would quit his job and actually be a father, to no prevail, he stopped believing the childish poem.
Hoping to forget those memories, he leaned forward and flicked the radio on. This caught Olivia's attention and she turned to look at him.
"Relax," he said, with a laugh. "The windows are tinted to the point of not even Superman would be able to look through. And I'll keep it down, so those crackheads with the super-hearing won't be able to hear it," he promised.
Her eyes stayed on him for a few lingering seconds, before returning to the alley.
There was a moment of silence between them as a song softly played. He didn't recognize the male lead singer's voice, but tapped his finger against the coffee cup to the beat. Peter was not a patient person. Obvious statement, but entirely true. It had only been roughly seven minutes parked here, and he was already growing bored. While Olivia showed no change whatsoever. In fact, it looked like she had barely moved. Still sitting tense, face turned away from.
"Liv," he prompted.
"Hm?" she replied.
His sigh was loud and clear in the silent pause between songs. He saw her head turn a fraction of an inch in his direction. "How long do you think it'll be before the druggies come out to play illegal swap?" he questioned, cheekily.
"It could be a while." Was that frustration in her voice he was hearing? Shifting, he turned the radio down a notch, so he could focus his thoughts.
He knew he was going to bring it up from the second he got the idea to accompany her. But the whole time, while he wondered just how, he was without an answer. He's a born genius, but the fundamentals of this stuff got him. How was he supposed to say, 'Hey Liv, you know that kiss you're denying? Yeah, let's do it again. This time don't run away. Oh, and guess what? I think I like you a lot more than I thought,' without sounding like a persistent jackass who won't let it drop or a love-struck fifth grader?
Oh the dilemma he faced.
How could he let it drop, though? That feeling he got was clawing his way up his throat, forcing him to argue with her every time she pretended nothing happened, or every time she didn't bring it up.
The song playing gently in the background was slow, and melancholy with the hopeful twinge in the singers voice. Peter was almost tempted to switch the whole thing off. But, focusing own frustration towards himself, he shifted to look at Olivia better.
"You know..." She turned to look at him. He wasn't expecting that. "I was..."
At his hesitation, she took a moment to glance back at the alley.
Sighing, he fell back to a comfortable sit in his chair. What was he thinking? Bringing this up on a stake-out? A potentially-blood-vessel-bursting-drug stake-out, for that matter. She turned back to look at him, wavering. He shook his head dismissively, looking out his door window. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her look away, clearly unconcerned with what he had attempted to tell her. For, the best. I mean, what did I expect? She was gonna hang off my every word? You're not that irresistible, Peter.
Her hand whipped out and shut off the radio. "Malcom," she hissed when he was about to protest. Leaning forward so far, his cheek could have pressed against the cheek, he peered around her. Sure enough, a lanky looking figure in a black hoodie was handing something to a more bulky one. Could they really be more suspicious looking? His respect, very little to begin with, dropped for drug dealers.
-
Okay, that's it. By the end of the day he was already fed up with the games and yearning.
They had just solved the case. Malcom had indeed been selling a mega-drug, unwittingly of course. He pointed them in the direction of his supplier. A genius scientist bent on worldly chaos. Well, actually bent on killing as many druggies as he could for "pressuring" his son into becoming addicted and over-dosing. So he claims, but everything always seemed to be connected, whether first glance appeared so or not.
The girl who first died was a test run. The crazed-dad experimented on her. Quite unremorsfully, in fact. Turns out she dumped his son when he first got addicted. Instead of wasting her life trying to "lead him back onto the right path".
Glancing up at the sky, Peter took in the dark night. It was mostly clouded, with a few stars peeking through. The moon light was visible through a patch of thin cloud, enough to light the parking up. He was leaning against Olivia's car, hands shoved in his coat pockets as his eyes scanned around. It was a bold tactic, to jump her as she was beginning wind down, ready to go home.
Okay, wrong choice of the word 'jump', he thought to himself with a small smile.
But this was going to be settled tonight, whether she liked it or not. There was no chance he was going to waste another night, tossing and turning. His half-asleep dreams being taunted with visions of blond hair, and heated kisses.
So, his heart jumped when he saw her exit the college, the wind pushing her hair back behind her. She hadn't spotted him yet, digging through her pockets to find the keys. A few strands of her hair blew into her face. Add how the moonlight danced on her face, lighting her eyes up, and she looked more than beautiful. If only she knew what she was capable of. How fast she was making his heart beat right now. But he knew part of the reason for his thundering heart, was the excitement that she didn't know.
He had come across a lot of girls in his days. He knew he was good-looking. Sarcastic humor, charming. Amp up the bad-boyness and he could have girls eating out of his hands. And he used to, all the time. Used what nature had given him to his advantage. But most of the girls he got were all the same, if he squinted. They all blurred together in his memories, and he couldn't tell them apart. Before, that didn't matter to him. But, looking at Olivia... Seeing how incredibly different she was, made his past turn grey. And soon, he just wanted to cut himself from them, and not remember who he was before.
He shifted, pulling his hands out of his pockets, and she looked up when she reached him, stopping in her tracks. "Hey... what's up?" she asked, awkwardly. He let himself smile at her slowly, til he had on a full grin.
Shrugging, he watched her walk over to the door, turning his head to watch her.
"Good job on the case, today," she congratulated.
"You're the one who put two and two together. I just presented the facts," he explained, leaning so his arm brushed hers as she unlocked the door.
She nodded, biting her lower lip. He pushed himself from the car, circling so he stood right behind her. She followed his move, turning around so her back was now to the car, facing him.
It was a surprisingly easy decision to make, even though he knew it wasn't part of his plan. Settling it didn't include stirring it up. But she looked like she wanted it just as badly as he did.
He took a step forward, dipping his head. Her hand went to his cheek as he leaned in, closing his eyes. He felt her lips meets his halfway. This kiss was slow and sweet, unlike the desperate one they had first shared. He stepped closer to her, pressing himself to her as she leaned back into her car. And just like before, everything around them slipped from his mind. His thoughts froze, the only thing his mind could do was move him physically. He could care less about caring.
He cupped her face, letting his thumbs stroke her cheek as the kiss slowed. She stopped, and he pulled back, but rested his forehead on hers. He could feel her breath on his face, and God did that feel good. It was hot and sweet, and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes.
"That was stupid," she breathed.
He didn't answer, just tilted his head to hers. But, she turned away at the last second and he froze. Letting out a sigh against her neck, he turned and gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek. Letting his hands drop from her, he pulled away. She was staring at the pavement, her hands back flat against the car. The only thing he could do was frown.
Then, suddenly remembering what he was gonna ask her, he straightened. "What were you going to say? Earlier, when Walter and Astrid came in?"
She still wasn't looking at him. In fact, she hadn't moved an inch. "I don't even remember," she lied. He shook his head, but let her have that one. He'd get her to tell him eventually.
"Olivia," he said. Her name tasted even sweeter passing through the lips hers had just occupied. Shaking his head, he glanced up at the sky, before back at her. "Well... I'll be here." He paused, waiting for her to respond, but she didn't. "Whenever you change your mind."
Hoping his words would settle in, he turned to leave.
But he was stopped. She grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her. He didn't stop moving til he was pressed against her, and she pressed her lips to his. She kissed him this time with more determination. He couldn't deny the feeling, mixed with the others, of relief that washed over him. Her fingers combed through his hair, and he swore he could feel goosebumps forming on his arms as her lips moved against his.
She pulled back, and he let her a little reluctantly. Her eyes flickered to look up into his. He could see little brown specks in her eyes. "Okay," was all she said, before he couldn't resist leaning in again.
Ehh... not to happy with this one. If it's acceptable, review :)