A/N: I don't even know where this came from. I was lying in bed one night and I had this scene in my head, and welp.

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

Delicate – Damien Rice

"I don't even know why the fuck I came here" she spits out, pivoting on her heel and turning towards the door.

Her hand hits the handle and his voice, gravely and husky pours over her like warm honey, "I don't know, you tell me, why did you come here Olivia?" he taunts.

She turns back to him. She knows why she came, why she would always come when he called but they don't say those things out loud. As her eyes narrow she crosses her arms across her chest and looks at him. The stubble mars his usually smooth face, like a mask he uses to mock her…to remind her of who he no longer believes he is.

"Fuck you Elliot"

His footsteps thud along the linoleum floor as he stalks towards her and she steadies herself, puffs out her chest and glares at him, neither backing down. If he is a hurricane, then she is a tidal wave and there is no way in hell she'll ever let herself flinch in front of him.

They stand inches apart, him looming over her like he's done suspects a countless number of times, his attempt to intimidate falling on deaf ears, "Come on Liv, tell me why you came"

Their gazes are locked, the heaving of their chests making them almost touch, and she tugs her lip between her teeth, "You're my partner"

"Not anymore" he whispers raggedly and she knows he's picking at the wound, seeing how much it takes until she's bleeding too. She closes her eyes when his hands come to her wrists, gripping lightly, leaning in and bringing their bodies together, "Come on Liv, tell me why you came"

Her eyes snap open and his nose is brushing hers, cobalt eyes dark and cloudy, "Fuck you Elliot"

But it no longer has the resolve behind it. Now it's a ragged whisper, a plea because his touch makes her weak, in the same way his steel resolve bends , his thumb lightly running along her wrist, "Is that what you want?"

Then his mouth is on hers, and the kiss is rough, punishing, his tongue sliding hard against hers, tasting like whiskey, the hair on his face chaffing her skin. She pulls back, lips bruised from the way his teeth nip and pull, "Fuck you"

It's whimpered now, broken, and he licks his lips, pushes her into the wall and entwines their fingers, sliding her arms up against the wall, pinning them above her head. They are as physically close as two people can be fully clothed but he pushes his leg between her thighs because he aches for the nearness, to forget where he ends and she begins.

The way she moans in his mouth makes him growl, and the way her teeth sink into his neck make him lose all he control he was trying so hard to maintain "Olivia" he murmurs in her ear and he loosens the grip, her hands coming to his biceps, nails sinking in.

Fingers pop buttons, clothes pulled off in swishes, their mouths never full parting, the lifeline too precious to be broken. He picks her up effortlessly, long limbs wrapping around his strong waist. She's soft, he's hard and the juxtaposition of how she melds into his crevices has always been able to take her mind away.

He had been gone for two years before he called and there was whiskey on his breath, a sob in his throat and he cried that night, apologized, told her Kathy had left with Eli. A part of her hated that there was no hesitation as she left her date, drove all the way to Queens and found him three quarters of the way through a bottle of Jack.

It was under the black sky, no hint of stars that she understood the depths of her love for this man. Because she saw him in the gutter and didn't hesitate to crawl in there with him, wrap himself around him, hope that she could make him strong enough to pull himself out. With the strong burn of liquor on his lips, three day old stubble on his chin, they had come together the first time. It was a fumbling of limbs, hot wet mouths all over skin, painful and satisfying, the hurt in both of them stinging like acid on each other's bones.

She beat herself up about it for days after, until he called again, this time from some shitty pub, last call from the bartender. She told him to fuck off and not call her again, as she was grabbing her keys and heading out the door…because when he needed her, she would go…and hate herself in the morning for the weakness of cobalt blue eyes and rough pads of fingers.

They fall onto the bed, his mouth making trails across her collarbone, marking her collarbone with his teeth, and she feels him everywhere, the rush of blood hot in her veins as his fingertips and tongue memorize all her slopes and valleys.

There is no denying the intensity, every time, the way they fight to consume each other, to claim ownership, nails raked down backs, bruises from a finger's grip but this time he enters her slow and she feels the moisture of hot tears burning the back of her lids as she slams them shut.

Fucking, that's easy to explain away, there has always been a combustible energy between them. But when he's moving so slowly inside of her, hips rolling to bring their bodies together…she can't say it's anything less than a man making love to a woman.

And when he entwines their fingers, pushes her arms above her head and pins her there, his breath on her lips and whispers, "Open your eyes Olivia" she feels her stomach clench with words unsaid. But she does open them, cappuccino swirled eyes meeting stormy blue and he looks at her, "Why did you come Olivia" he asks stilling inside of her.

Her legs wrap around him, trying to pull him back in, make him thrust, make him stop looking at her like she's water in the desert but he stays firm, his large body pinning hers to the bed, "Tell me, just tell me"

Tears leak out of the corners of her eyes, "El" she manages to whimper.

"Fucking tell me"

He's tearing up, pools of water in his eyes and she wants to fix them, to heal them both but they're so broken. He begins to move again, closing his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, both of them moaning, the sound of skin and wetness filling the air.

Then she does it, her mouth on his ear, breath hot, "Because I fucking love you Elliot, because I love you"

His entire body tenses and he moves harder, deeper, her hips bucking off the bed to meet him and when she cums, he slides inside of her and lets go, slowly bringing himself down onto her. His lips come against hers, like the fluttering of a butterflies wings and his eyes are clamped shut but he whispers, softly, choking back the emotion that clogs his throat, "I love you too Liv, I love you so much"

They both know that's why she came, that's why he called…because as broken as they both are, they only feel whole together.