The way Fitz is looking at her, the unshed tears in his eyes reflecting the unwavering strength of his love for her shatters her - because there are words that even now that she cannot speak, memories she cannot bear to face, let alone share. If she did, there's no way he could ever continue to love her…
…She doesn't deserve his love, she doesn't deserve him - and maybe she never will…
Fitz sees the self-loathing surface in her eyes seconds before she spins herself away from him, so that her back is to him once again.
Olivia can't even meet his eyes anymore and something in him - his heart, his soul, his love - stretches to its breaking point. They're both frozen in place beneath this towering tidal wave of pain until it threatens to drown them both.
Then the pain holding him still snaps, the revelations of the last few minutes causing this last barrier between them to give way as Fitz finally moves towards her, closing the space between them in an instant.
His hands hesitates for just a second before they reach for her, resting themselves gently on her shoulders. He tries to turn her around, feeling the tension in her body as Olivia resists for just a moment, but then - to his relief - she relents.
Fitz looks down into her face. Does she even know what the sight of her crying does to him? He can count on one hand the number of times he's seen her cry and every single time it rips his heart out of his chest.
He doesn't know what it is Olivia wants or needs, but Fitz doesn't think she knows either. What he does know is that all he needs to be is whatever Olivia needs him to be in this moment - and that they'll figure it out - together.
Fitz hesitates, then his hands come up to cradle her face, his thumbs tenderly tracing the tracks of her tears…
The ice inside her shatters at his touch and in its place, a new warmth blossomed. Her mind was still in a state of confusion, but what she did know was that she couldn't take this pain anymore, she didn't want to hurt any more, and Fitz was the one constant in her world that could take her pain away.
His hands were warm against her skin, her eyes closing for just a breath of time, just a moment's respite before her hands came up to cover his. Moments later, she was pulling his mouth down to hers, a whimper escaping just before his lips brushed against hers.
Fitz felt the full force of Olivia's need but there's something in it that stops him from falling fully into her embrace. Even as he was kissing her, he could feel something else driving her and it pushed against his own want, his own need - even as she was pulling at his clothes - and a part of him was unthinkingly undressing her with the same focused intensity - even as she pulled him back, step by step until they tumbled backwards -naked - onto his bed.
The way her fingers tangled themselves into his hair forced a groan from him. The way her legs rose up to wrap themselves around his hips and held him tight against the frantic movements of her body almost undid him…
Fitz didn't realize just when it was that he began to try and shush her half-whispered broken protests with soft reassurances, or when he began kissing the tears from her cheeks, his hands coming up to smooth her hair between his fingers with gentle strokes, trying to slow her own frantic movements.
"Oh Livvie." Another measure of her hurt, her pain, her desperation, transmits itself to him and it breaks his heart all over again. "Oh, sweet, sweet baby - don't cry, please don't cry, love…please…"
For a time that had no measure, the gentleness of Fitz's touch made Olivia sob harder, helplessly. She wanted all of him now, she needed him to make all the hurt go away. She knew that her touch was feverish, unthinking, that one moment her hands were clutching at his shoulders, then she was sliding them down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moved above her, felt the care and concern he took with her as she lifted her mouth to his in a million tiny kisses even as her tears continued to flow.
Something she can't begin to name has control of her; a tiny part of her wants to stop, wants the sweet slow burn of desire, but overriding that was the need to have him in her now, to have the sweet rough plunge of his flesh into hers.
"Livvie…" he murmurs as his mouth tastes her, traces a path along her neck with a soft play of lips and tongue. As her body arches against him, Fitz suddenly senses what she wants - now he realizes why a part of him is unwillingly to press forward.
There's been times when they've both been so hungry for one another that they couldn't wait until they were naked. There's never been a time when he didn't want her. But as he realizes what's happening - Fitz also realizes that right here, right now, he doesn't want her like this. Rushed. It's more than that - it's desperation. And he will never want her like that. Not now, not ever.
She can't help herself in the moment, he understands that - but still… Fitz continues to hush her with soft sounds and softer touches. He's hard between her thighs, as always he aches for her, but Fitz isn't ready yet. He knows - better than she does - that she's not ready yet. Whatever they did in this moment, it wouldn't be making love and he will not be with her like that. Not now, not ever.
"It's all right, Livvie." Fitz's voice was even gentler against her skin, a caress all its own. "I'm right here. Whatever's wrong, I'm here."
Something deep inside Olivia stills as Fitz's voice finally begins to penetrate the almost mindless haze still surrounding her. She's barely aware that she's been gasping for air every time she touches him, or that the need for him prickles like painful pins and needles against her skin. The need is real. But she's not all here yet, she's too much in her head…she struggles against the hurt and the pain and the guilt to be wholly here.
Olivia blinks to clear her vision and instantly Fitz's eyes locked onto hers. And instantly, she sees that he knows.
"Wherever you were, it doesn't matter, it's okay - you're here now, Livvie, you're safe." He said, his lips brushing against her cheeks, her eyes, her lips between each word. "You're here and so am I and that's all that matters. Just stay with me."
He repeats himself over and over again, kisses her over and over again, asking for nothing and giving everything in return until something in her finally hears him fully. Fitz feels the tension begin to drain from her body, her movement against him is slowly changing from a struggle to a caress…
"Stay with me."
Olivia feels the words against her lips. They shiver through her, dances over her skin, but this is a welcome sensation as it washes away the chill inside, replacing it with a welcoming warmth that takes away her pain.
"I'm here." She whispers against his lips. "Fitz, I'm here." And she is. She proves it with the slow softening of her mouth, the moan and sigh that comes as she lets his tongue sweep gently inside and find hers.
The tears slow, but they don't stop, but it's okay now because they're flowing for another reason, they're a cleansing balm against her heart, her soul.
Then she realizes that her tears are not only hers. They're his, mingling with her own.
A shuddering sigh of release escapes Olivia unknowing when Fitz's lips began showering tiny kisses all over her face again and this time she was able to return his kisses, the feel of the dampness of his tears against her lips and it grounds her like nothing else could. Every now and then in their travels, their lips found one another's, his tongue probing deeper into her mouth each time until she's moaning softly, welcoming him.
When he kisses her slow like this, she feels the world stop spinning. The world narrows down to just the two of them, because in the end it always does, but somehow she's lost track of that, she's lost not only track of herself, Olivia realizes - but she's lost track of them.
But now, in this moment, as everything goes quiet between them, time resets itself. It's done without words - not they have ever really needed words - in a silence that is accentuated only by the quiet crackle and dance of the fireplace. She feels Fitz as he lowers his forehead to hers. She senses his eyes closing and she does the same because she's back in this safe space, they're back in their safe space. It's a good quiet, a safe quiet. It promises the safety to fall into sync the way they always do; it happens so easily it's almost scary, but it's not.
What it is, is lovemaking in its most basic form, all soft touches, intimate gazes, deep and endless kisses, a tangling of heart and soul that has been theirs from the very first day they met. It's them at their most basic, the intimacy that goes beyond sex to the foundation of everything that they were.
And yet at the same time, Olivia couldn't deny the heat that blossomed as Fitz let his hips grind down against her, sliding his thick shaft against her core again and again until the slick motion sent shivers between the two of them, so slowly that it turns her insides molten, so slowly that Fitz could do nothing else but moan her name as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, telling her in between soft whispered groans how good she felt in his arms, how much he wanted her, would always want her - how much he needed her - and how that would never change.
Her body followed the rhythm he set, arching and undulating her hips against his. And when Fitz felt her desire rising to match his, he began to tease them both, slipping just the head of his thick shaft into her core - and she was already so hot, so wet for him that all either of them could was moan at the contact.
He does this over and over, sinking himself into her just a little deeper each time he does, deepening their kisses at the same time, his groans echoing her moans as they wrapped themselves into one another, taking each other in through all of their senses until neither could tell where one ended and the other began.
It's the best kind of love-making, all soft sighs and softer moans, of unhurried movements and a thousand tiny peaks of pleasure, of silence filled with the slow dance of deep thrusts of tongues and hips, of scattered open-mouthed kisses across arched throats and trembling flesh, of fingers entwined and whispered words of love. And it lasts until most of the night has passed, until the flames in the fireplace have burned themselves down to glowing embers, until they fall asleep cradled in one another's arms - and there is peace.
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a/n: This was another occasion where my muse slipped up on me and threw my plans into an unexpected spin. She left me exhausted but earned her chocolate this week. At least I thought so; what do y'all think?