It started with coffee.
The first day of her return to the DA's office, a paper cup of coffee was waiting on her desk in her new office. Casey eyed it cautiously, recognizing the café by its sleeve; it was two blocks away from Hogan Place, quite the distance from the office. A yellow post-it was stuck to its side and, scribbled in an elegant cursive, were the words "Good luck - A."
Casey allowed a small smile to slip, feeling a fraction of her nerves settle as she took in a tentative gulp of coffee. She can already hear the hushed whispers, already anticipating the gossip that will inevitably fill the building about her return.
(Perhaps it's her anxiety, maybe she's just overthinking it too much. Or maybe, just maybe, she's really lost her edge and felt the need to barely toe the line of going back to prosecuting.)
She'll admit it to nobody, but the doubts were creeping in on her that morning when she sat up on her bed after a restless sleep, the insecurities preying on the edges of her resolve. Finding out that she still, at least, had an ally in this building, swept her with a wave of relief. She settled behind her desk and taped the post-it inside its still bare drawer. Visitors can't see it, but she'll know that it's there. A little reminder that she's not alone.
Coffee cups every morning for her first week was the highlight of her day before she met the culprit who'd been leaving them on her desk. It's not really a secret for her, per se; she recognized the handwriting, can still smell the hints of the perfume left in her office when she comes in. But she'd been swamped with cases and paper works on her return that she didn't really have the time to properly thank the coffee fairy.
Alex came in just as Casey was starting on another pile of paperwork. Even while carrying her purse on her shoulder, her briefcase on one hand, and the go-to cardboard that held two coffee cups on the other, Casey can't help but think that she's all poise and elegance and intimidation, all rolled into the blonde striding to her desk.
"Hey, you're early today," Alex commented as she set down the cardboard on the clear side of her desk, a hint of teasing in her voice as she handed her a cup.
Their fingers brushed as she took the coffee and Casey felt the warmth that bloomed from where their skin came into contact for a few short seconds that it took her a moment to respond, "Yeah. Well, that's what happens when detectives call you at four in the morning to bother a judge for a warrant."
Alex smiled, the corner of her eyes crinkling, and the redhead was startled by the warmth that she found in her blue, blue eyes. She took a sip of her coffee, hoping that her face wasn't as red as she thought.
"Better get used to it again, Novak," she teased again, then, in a more friendly voice, "Welcome back to SVU, Casey."
She returned the smile, not really sure how to respond. It was disarming, really, that this woman, who she had to replace in position, the one that she always felt like she fell short from, and the one who left a legacy that Casey would never even hope to attain, is welcoming her back from her three-year censure with coffees and smiles and warmth.
"Maybe we can catch up some time?" The blonde continued, lifting her own coffee cup, "The café have really good pastries."
Well, she can't turn down an invitation from her boss, can she?
"I'd really like that. Thank you, Alex," she replied, running a finger on the black cup, "And thanks for the coffee."
She sucked in a deep breath once Alex left her office, feeling as if it's the first time she did ever since the blonde entered the room. Her eyes landed again on the coffee, only noticing the teeny post-it stuck on the holder. Casey plucked it and took a closer look:
You don't need luck for your first day back in court x
A smile comes unbidden upon her lips as she stuck the post-it beside the first one inside her drawer, re-reading both of them, and leaning back on her chair. Her eyes bore on the ceiling as she tried to sort the thoughts running through her head. She doesn't quite understand why Alex was being kind to her. Sure, Casey was the prosecutor at the time of Connors' trial but it was Alex who laid the trap and baited him. Meanwhile, she committed a Brady violation; she was censured and suspended for three years, for god's sake.
Jonah Dekker had a point; she's lucky to have this job, albeit still under probation. She knew that every move that she's making was being scrutinized by Cutter and McCoy, and she's even luckier to have an ally in the form of Alexandra Cabot. She didn't recognize half the people that she passed when she came in to One Hogan Place but she knows that they know. They know about the Brady, about the censure, about the shame that she carried around that she's trying so hard to cover up with thousand-dollar suits and false confidence.
Her thoughts returned to the blonde because, really, who is she kidding here? She's smart, attractive, all grace and poise - everything that Casey perceives as she's not. Alex probably has a connection with every other judge in New York, christ, the woman came back from the dead. To her, and probably to everyone else, Alex Cabot is a living legend. For the life of her, Casey can't figure out what Alex wanted from her, why she's being so kind and attentive when she's anything but put together right now.
It puzzled her, but she's not really complaining. She can feel the stirring of attraction for the blonde within her and she welcomed it - the all too familiar fluttering in her chest that she first felt when Alex came back from Witsec and testified against her attacker. Maybe, just maybe, this is a chance for her. Why would she deny herself this... indulgence?
She sighed and straightened on her seat, dragging her eyes back to the paperwork that she was doing. She can try to figure everything else later; right now, this required her attention.
Their breakfast coffees turned into coffee lunch breaks - as Casey likes to call it as. They were both just getting situated into SVU again: Alex got back from Appeals just a few weeks before she came back from her suspension. They go in the café that Alex really liked whenever they're not holed up in court, and talk about their own cases and the smarmy defense attorneys that are hellbent in drowning them with motions. They order coffees and pastries, and discuss the changes that they notice in the office and the precinct.
Their coffee lunch breaks turned into sharing take outs in their office, both up to their knees with their own cases as they try to find angles that can help them win. They bounced ideas off with one another, oftentimes trying to predict the line of questioning that the defense might throw their witnesses, and coming up with redirecting questions of their own.
Spending all these times together, Casey can't keep herself from being even more attracted to her senior. She can't help but notice the way that the light in her office seemed to bounce off the golden tresses, the way her brows furrowed at the document on her lap, her blue eyes determined and concentrated as they read over the words. Her glasses had slid down slightly over the length of her nose, but she didn't even bother pushing it up and Casey couldn't help but think that she looked... adorable.
The redhead almost snorted at the thought and brought her attention back to her own case file. Of all the things that Alex Cabot is, adorable is probably the last word that would describe her. But seeing the blonde on her office couch with papers strewn across the coffee table, her lips in an almost imperceptible pout, and blonde locks in a hasty ponytail on the back of her head, it's the only apt word that she can come up with.
She heard her companion sigh and she looked up just in time to see her toss her glasses on the coffee table, "That's it, I give up," she exhaled as she ran a hand down her face, "I can't understand this anymore."
Casey gave her an amused look, "I don't think you should go around announcing that, counsellor."
Blue eyes narrowed at her, a softer version of her signature courtroom glare, "You know I'm your boss, right?" She replied, but there was no real bite, mirth laced with her words.
Casey faked a gasp, "Is that Bureau Chief Alex Cabot using her tenure against her ADA? That's abuse of power! Tell the press!"
"Like I didn't know that you hate the press."
"Maybe I have a news outlet on speed dial, you never know."
"And which, pray tell, will be the lucky headliner?"
"I was thinking maybe the tabloids?"
"Ha! As if you'll ever be seen talking to tabloid reporters."
"Yeah. They're sleazebag number two, just after defense attorneys."
Alex chuckled at that and the redhead couldn't help but revel at the sound, the fluttering in her chest going stronger at the small smile still playing on the blonde's lips. The fact that they went from sharing coffees to exchanging playful banter wasn't lost on Casey. She liked it, this friendship that they've built, grateful for having a friend who understands how draining and tough this job can be, someone who she can rant to whenever the detectives are being difficult and persistent.
But it certainly didn't help with the ever-growing attraction that she has for the blonde. She watched as Alex stood and raised her arms above her head for a stretch, causing her shirt to ride up a little and her eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin that it exposed. She had to forcefully drag her eyes back to her documents when Alex let out a groan that was most definitely not safe for work, trying so hard to tamp down the desire rising from the pit of her stomach.
"I don't know about you, Novak, but I'm gonna head out," she said as she rubbed her tired eyes.
Casey sighed and closed the file that she was trying to read, "Yeah, might as well continue this tomorrow."
Alex paused from cleaning up the takeout boxes on the coffee table and gave her an incredulous look, "You're still gonna work from home on a Saturday? Are you a masochist or something?"
The redhead let out a wry chuckle as she shoved folders into her briefcase, "Might as well. Look at these with fresh eyes, you know?"
But she can't really tell her why she's pushing herself like this. She couldn't tell her about the stares and the whispers that followed her, about the words that they say when they thought she couldn't hear. She can't tell her about her own expectations and how she's falling short of all of them.
She still has a lot to prove.
She raised her head and saw Alex staring at her intently from the couch, blue eyes boring into her own as if she knows what she's thinking, as if she can see into her soul. Her breath hitched, the gentleness in the blonde's gaze catching her off guard.
"I can see that you're doing your best, Casey," she spoke lowly, as if sharing a secret, "And it's more than enough. I hope you see that, too."
She nodded, averting her eyes from the intensity of her stare, and cleared her throat, "Thanks, Alex."
Alex walked over to her desk and placed a hand on her shoulder. Firm but gentle, grounding her to the present, "You're welcome. Let's go, it's late. Let's share a cab."
Later, when she's laying on her bed, alone, her mind can't help but wonder how it would feel like to be held by Alex.
Casey clenched her jaw, her pen gripped so tightly by her fingers she's half-afraid she'll break it, blinking the tears away from her eyes. The fight with Olivia was a long time coming; things had been rather tensed and strained ever since she got back, but it still hurts. They used to be so close - being two of the only three women who worked closely with the squad - but the words uttered were hurtful and brought forth the insecurities and doubts that she was trying so hard to bury.
She inhaled deeply through her nose and slammed the pen on her desk, running her hands through her hair as few stray tears escaped her eyes.
"You look like you could use a drink."
She hurriedly wiped her cheeks and turned her head to face Alex, leaning against the doorframe. A small smile was tugging the corners of her lips, but her eyes shining with concern as she entered her office.
"You could say that," the redhead replied, wincing at the roughness in her voice, "I take it you've heard?"
The bureau chief stood beside her desk, "Yeah," she replied carefully, "Liv told me."
Casey almost scoffed. Of fucking course, Olivia would tell her boss about how she's lost her edge.
"So, are you here to scold me? Or was the offered drink just to soften the blow?" She said harshly. She didn't intend to snap, but she's been keeping it together since that afternoon and everything inside her is frayed and barely holding on by the seams.
Alex, bless her, didn't take the bait – didn't even flinch – "Neither. I'm here to invite a friend out for a drink after a long week of working on gruesome sex crimes. You in or not?"
They've settled on a table in the quiet corner of the bar, a bottle of beer for Casey and a glass of scotch for Alex. The silence was not awkward, not quite sure how to start the conversation, and Casey ran her finger on the label of her bottle, peeling it with her nail.
"So," across from her, the blonde started, "You wanna talk about it?"
She sighed and took a swig from her beer, "What is there to talk about?" She replied with a mirthless chuckle, resignation clear in her words, "You know what she said. I've lost my edge."
Her companion frowned, hands wrapping around her untouched glass, "No, you didn't."
"Don't patronize me," she protested weakly, her green eyes filling with tears again as she met her blue ones, "I don't know what I'm doing here, Alex," she whispered, almost ashamed to admit the weakness that she's been carrying ever since she came back.
"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice gentle and inquisitive.
"I mean, look at me," she sighed and gestured at herself wildly, "When I got back, I thought it was gonna be easy, that it will be just like I've never left. I thought I'm coming back to prosecuting and all will be right in the world. But all I do now is make deals left and right, Alex. I... I don't want to make the same mistake again that I stay on safe side of things.
"And I still hear people talk. They talk about my violation and my censure, as if I didn't pay it back already by being suspended. How I'm even lucky to have my job back, how they're questioning my abilities and the ways that I handle my cases, as if my reputation and dignity as a prosecutor didn't suffer a crash-dive three years ago."
Casey let out a deep sigh and sipped her drink, her eyes darting around the bar. Her heart was beating out of her chest, probably from the adrenaline of her outburst, "I see the way they look at me, as if they're just waiting for me to fuck one thing up and they'll come for me and my job again, and I hate it. Liv is right. "
She didn't know what came over her that she's spilling out her guts and insecurities to the blonde woman. Maybe it was what Olivia said that became her undoing. Maybe it's the fact that she's been holding it in for the past few months, it's bound to explode. Maybe it was Alex's eyes, full of tenderness and compassion and understanding, something that she didn't see for the past three years, much less these past few months.
She's got so used to the whispered words and doubtful glares that she forgot how it felt to be vulnerable.
The redhead almost jumped when a warm hand laid on hers that was on the table. The touch was tentative, only tightening slightly when she made no move to pull away.
"Casey," she almost whispered, but she can hear the urgency in her name, almost begging her to listen to what the blonde was saying, "What Olivia said, it's not true and I made it known to her that I wouldn't tolerate such words against my ADAs."
"You didn't have to – " Casey started to protest but was cut-off with a raised hand.
"No, Case, I have to do that because it's not true. You didn't lose any of the edge that I first saw when you prosecuted Connors," she explained, her thumb rubbing circles on the back of Casey's hand. It soothed her, and the tension that gathered on her shoulders started to dissipate.
"It's not a bad thing that you make deals," Alex continued, "If anything, it ensures that the victim gets the justice that they deserve because they know that their abusers are going to jail. It gives them the peace that they're looking for, because you make sure that the bad guys are behind the bars for a long time.
"And I see the way that you work your cases. You comb through the evidence, you talk to the victims yourself, you're very hands-on during the investigations. You review everything for a hundred times and you think it through before you even consider offering up a deal. That's not you 'losing your edge'; that's you making sure that what happened doesn't happen again on other victims. I can see that you love your job, Casey, and that's proven by the fact that you still have the highest conviction rate in the DA's office. You're doing the best that you can with the cards that you've been dealt with and, honestly? You're doing more than a good job."
Her lips trembled as she heard the words, and she unconsciously turned her hand to hold the blonde's palm in her own.
"What you're doing right now is more than enough, Casey. I hope you can see it the way that I do. I'm proud of you."
Casey's eyes welled with tears again but, this time, with gratitude. She didn't know how much she needed to hear those words, to be reassured that she's more than what they say, that she's more than her mistakes and insecurities and doubts. To have someone that believed in her capabilities, even though there are times that she questions herself. She let a few tears fall and she hung her head, hoping that her hair would hide her face.
She wiped her face and raised her head, a tremulous smile on her lips, "Thank you, Alex."
With her other hand, Alex wiped the tear tracks that remained. Her thumb was gentle against her skin as she cradled her jaw and Casey resisted the urge from leaning into her touch, "You're always welcome, Case," she replied with a soft smile. She reveled on the warmth that the palm on the side of her face was exuding; it soothed her, the remaining tension on her shoulders disappearing, and she allowed herself to be lulled by its comfort.
"Why are being so kind to me?" Casey almost whispered, finally giving voice to the question that had been at the forefront of her mind ever since she saw the firs coffee cup.
She can tell that the question threw Alex off-guard, her eyes widening slightly and the movement of her thumb – still on her cheek – had faltered. A few moments passed, the redhead feeling the sudden rise of embarrassment in her. She almost opened her mouth to tell her companion to forget about it, when she answered.
"Because you need it," Alex replied reverently, her thumb moving again in small circles on her cheek, "For all that you're doing, all that you did, and all that you're bound to do, you need kindness that will remind you that you're also deserving of the same kindness that you show everyone. You're a kind person, Case, and I'll be here to remind you whenever you feel like you're not."
Her breath hitched, her heart beating faster in her chest. Casey felt like she's an open book in front of Alex, as if she knew every self-doubting moment that she had, but is staying anyway because she wanted to. Her blue eyes were pulling her in, and she volunteers to be drowned in the depths. She didn't remove her hand, nor did Casey pull away. She wanted this, she realized, more than anything. To kiss the dusting of freckles across her collarbones, to run her fingers through her golden tressed. To feel her skin against hers, to press her lips and body against the blonde's, to pull her closer in her arms.
She wants to be closer.
In a surge of courage that came from nowhere, she turned her head and pressed a light kiss against her palm. She heard the way Alex's breath hitched and she looked up at her through her lashes as she nuzzled her palm. There's the growing heat in her blue eyes, further stoking the attraction and desire burning in her.
"Case…" the blonde whispered, a hint of warning in her voice.
"Alex," she whispered back, her lips pressing tenderly on the inside of her wrist.
That seemed to snap Alex from her trance and she snatched her hands away and stood up. Green eyes widened, apologies automatically coming to her lips before Alex stood in front of her, held her face, and kissed her. It took her moment to respond and then they were kissing, her hands on the blonde's hips, while hers were tangled in Casey's hair. Casey can feel the flush rising up her chest, her neck, and to her cheeks, a barely stifled moan escaping her when she felt Alex's tongue brushing her lips.
It was moments, probably minutes, later that they pulled away, both of them gasping for air. Alex leaned her forehead against hers, sharing their breaths with one another, and Casey just basked in the warmth that they have between them as she tried to come up of things to say.
Cabot beat her to the punch, "Let's go to my place?" she asked, still a little breathless. Her hands on the back of Casey's head, and she's more than eager to agree.
Casey can't move.
Last night was… she can't even begin to describe last night. When they arrived at the blonde's place, they wasted no time; hands tearing at clothing, lips tracing every inch of skin. They explored each other so thoroughly that memories of it was making her blush this morning. Those lips (god, those lips) and hands that she'd fantasize for the past few months had worn her out last night, falling asleep as soon as Alex got her off for the nth time.
And, well, it seemed that the blonde found a rather comfortable pillow in the form of the redhead – her head fitted snugly on Casey's shoulder, her arms loosely wrapped around her middle, and legs tangled with hers. Casey woke up feeling warm and sore and very satisfied, blonde hair tickling her chin, and her own arms around the older woman's back. She tried to make her escape, unsure of whether she overstayed her welcome or not, but the other woman was wrapped around her like a vine, grunting in annoyance when the redhead tried to move, and only wrapped herself tighter around her.
Resigned, Casey just laid back and closed her eyes, her fingers tracing lazy circles on the blonde's back. She shivered, feeling the blonde's warm breath ghosting her neck, goosebumps rising in their wake. Her eyes lazily opened and turned towards the sleeping woman in her arms, her heart skipping a beat when she again remembered the events of last night. She brushed away golden tresses from Alex's face, in awe at the relaxed and contented look on her beautiful face.
She underestimated her, hell, she underestimated herself. Whatever feelings she had for the blonde, it was deeper than she ever anticipated. She thought it was a simple attraction: she was lonely and the bureau chief was a stunning woman. She's attracted to Alex, plain and simple, even fantasized about her, but it's been a while since she had ever felt this way.
She thought she can control it, can quell whatever it is that stirs in her chest every time her path crosses with the blonde. But it certainly wasn't the case, practically throwing herself at her last night, and she knew: she lost the battle with her own heart. Alex had asked her if she'd like to go back to her place and the realization had overwhelmed Casey, that she'd follow her wherever she wanted her.
And when she looked down once again, finding those deep blue eyes open and already on her, with a small smile gracing those full lips that kissed her thoroughly the night before, Casey knew she's a goner.
The coffees continued, their late-night office take-outs went on for the following weeks; what changed is the fact that Casey now wakes up with Alex wrapped around her at least twice a week. She once teased her about it, how she's such an 'Ice Queen' when at work but a cuddle-bear when it's just the two of them. The blonde scowled at that, but whatever retort she had was lost when Casey kissed her.
On the rare occasion that the squad managed to get both of them to join their afterwork drinks, Alex was quick to settle on a seat next to her, giving her a bottle of her favorite beer, and resting her hand on the redhead's thigh under the table. They'd carry on with the conversations with their friends – as if the hand on her thigh wasn't climbing up steadily – and when she felt the hand squeeze, she'd take that as her cue. Giving her excuses and apologies, gathering her things, and leaving the bar, knowing full well that the blonde will be close behind.
It always ends that way and Casey has to fight the restlessness that's brewing in her chest.
She tried not to be bothered by it. They haven't really talked about… this, and Casey's not sure how to approach the subject without coming off as needy. But she can no longer ignore the involuntary reactions that her body does whenever Alex shows her affection. Because one shouldn't get flustered when your friend gives you a tight hug. One shouldn't have their heart beating erratically when your friend gives you a smile. One shouldn't stare at their friend's sleeping face – like a fucking creep – just to admire their perfect profile.
Casey is bothered, and she aches, because she never counted on the fact that she'll be falling in love with her friend, and she's not sure how she can help herself from feeling this way.
It came out as an accident and, for that, Casey isn't sure if she's thankful or regretful. They were in the blonde's office, having made plans to stay in the office later that night to work on their individual cases.
"What'd you like for dinner?" the redhead asked, browsing her phone for options that would be able deliver late at night, "That Indian place you liked is open until 10:30," she added.
Alex wrinkled her nose adorably, "We just had Indian this week," a slight whine in her voice as she straightened on her seat.
Casey shrugged and gave her her phone, "Try your luck, then."
She scrolled for a few minutes, before her eyes lit up, "Hey, it's the Italian place you've been wanting to try."
She raised her eyebrows and leaned closer to Alex, "I thought they're only open 'til 9."
"They're open until 11 on Fridays," Alex turned to look at her, an excited grin on her face that made the redhead's heart skip a beat, "Let's try this one, Case."
She couldn't help the chuckle that passed through her lips, almost giddy at the fact that Alex was excited to find something that she'd like to try, that she remembered what she wanted to try. They chose their meals and Alex handed her phone back.
"Thanks. I'll be back here later, I still need to swing by the precinct for their DD5s," she said as she blindly put her phone in her purse."
Alex nodded, a small smile on her lips. A quick glance towards the closed door and she leaned forward, brushing her lips against Casey's, "Alright, take care."
"Hmm, I will. Love you."
As soon as the words were out, she wanted to take them back. She didn't plan on confessing this way, was actually planning for a bit more romantic or, perhaps, a more private setting, but the words were spilling out before she can stop them. Alex drew back as if burned quickly, her eyes wide, and she was looking at everything except at her. Casey stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. It is what it is, she thought, and spoke.
"Hey, I don't expect you to say anything back," she said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, "I just… I couldn't help but say it. It doesn't have to change anything."
Alex cleared her throat and nodded. She then began gathering her things and shoving them in her briefcase and purse. Casey walked towards her, confused, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going home, Casey," she replied flatly, still not looking at her.
Her brows furrowed and she tried to touch her arm, only to draw back when the other woman flinched, "Alex, is this about my confession? I told you; it doesn't have to change anything. We can still work together as… friends, because we're professionals."
Alex sighed and finally looked at her. There are tears welling in her eyes, but she almost looked angry at her, "You don't get it Casey," she said resolutely, "We can't do this. I don't do this. We… we're good friends, we're working well together, we're good at what we're doing. I just… we don't have to go there."
Casey looked at her incredulously, "What do you mean 'there', Alex? We've been doing this for months and you're suddenly worried about us going 'there'? In case you forgot, you're the one who sought me out, you're the one who pursued me."
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, "But as I said, we're professionals here. I know how to separate my work and my feelings. Or do you want me to change units now?"
The flash of guilt on Alex's face was gone sooner than she thought, but she did notice it.
Her mouth fell open, a heavy stone of dread settling in her stomach, and she almost whispered, "Alex…"
"I'm not saying that you should change units," she tried to reason, "I'm just saying that, maybe, we can lend you to the Homicide Unit for a while, since they're overloaded with cases right now."
She scoffed, fighting back the tears, and swallowed the ball of grief that formed in her throat, "Oh, so it just so happened to come up now. How convenient."
Alex wrung her hands together and looked back down at her desk, "I was hoping to tell you tomorrow, so you can get started – "
"Forget it, Alex," she snapped. She strengthened her resolve, "I'll get the DD5s at from SVU, then you don't have to worry about me tomorrow. Don't worry, I'll report to Homicide first thing in the morning and you won't even have to look at me."
She walked out of her office and slammed the door on her way out. She couldn't even enjoy the satisfaction of having the last word against Alex Cabot when all she knows is that her heart is breaking into tiny million pieces and she had nobody to blame but herself.
She fell into a monotonous routine. She got up after barely having sleep, she worked, she got back to an empty apartment. She didn't call Alex; in turn, she didn't try to contact Casey.
The move to Homicide Unit did keep her distracted; the sheer number of cases that they have ensured that she's busy for the next few weeks. For that, the redhead was thankful. She may have stayed late in her office for a few nights and it's a miracle that she didn't run into the blonde.
Of course, her luck's just about run dried.
"How are you doing with the Homicide Unit?" Alex asked from the doorway, her hands tight on the straps of her purse. She sounded unsure, nervous even, but Casey tamped down the urge to run over to her.
"It's fine, Abbie had me handling a double-homicide now," she replied, trying to sort the papers on her desk in an effort to avoid the blue eyes that's been haunting her dreams.
Alex nodded and shifted, her attention still firmly on the redhead that refused to look at her, "Hey, when you're not busy, maybe we can have a drink sometime? Maybe coffee?"
At that, Casey looked up and stared at her. Her chest ached, as if a hole was replaced where her heart was when her gaze landed on the blonde. Casey knew she had no one to blame but herself, why they have this distance now, why her heart is still breaking, but did Alex really have to be this cruel?
She swallowed the spiteful words that came to her throat, opting for professionalism instead, "Maybe when I'm not too busy. But it'll probably be for another few months," she replied, trying to inject humor into her words.
But Alex had always read her like an open book. There's understanding in her eyes as she nodded, "Alright then. See you around."
Weekends were the worst. Every nook and canny of her apartment reminded her of Alex and staying inside almost seemed suffocating. Her kitchen made her recall of that time when she failed to make pasta. The things that Alex left in her place, she just shoved into one side of her closet. She remembered the times that they spent on her bed, talking, laughing, cuddling.
She can't stay in this place any longer. She got out and bought a bunch of boxes. She contacted the owner of the first apartment listing that she saw, packed her shit up, and moved out after two days. Casey took her stuff with her; she can't bear to part with these just yet. If she can have just a little reminder of Alex with her, maybe it will be better. Maybe she can sleep better while she hugged one of her shirts as she imagined her warmth. Maybe she can lose herself while reading her neat and organized notes.
Maybe if she kept these things, it'll eventually drown out the feeling of misery that continued to grow day after day.
So, let's not do coffee, let's not even try
It's better we leave it and give it some time
If I didn't love you, it would be fine
Cause If we do coffee, it's never just coffee