Poached Pear 6, Cherry Vanilla 14: Hell or High Water
Title: Hell or High Water
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Poached pear 6 (hell or high water), cherry vanilla 14 (cliffhanger), My Treat (Jake and Olivia finally get back together.), malt (marina's flavor roulette prompt: pocky chain starting with Olivia and Jake meeting, and then running through their reconciliation after she lives with Hugh for a while.), pocky chain.
Word Count: 1500
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Olivia and Jake, through the years.
WARNING: discussion of mental illness, (emotional) child abuse, use of 'crazy' as a pejorative, and depictions of depression.
The organ keys are smooth beneath her fingers-- she thinks they might be made of actual ivory. It's a pleasure to play, after years of plastic keys clicking when she presses them; she gets up with reluctance when the service ends.
She's looking wistfully back at the organ as she goes, so she walks right into the young man waiting for her. His hands come up to steady her automatically; she looks up into warm brown eyes and for just a second loses her breath.
"Hello," he says, and smiles, and her breath isn't the only thing Olivia has lost.
--
He asks her if she wants to get some coffee, and hastily adds 'platonically,' which is a little bit crushing. But Olivia has been crushed before; she just smiles and says 'of course.'
They get involved in a discussion of music and walk right past the coffee shop, not that either of them notices. The conversation shifts and they keep walking, street by street, topic by topic, until it's two hours and half the city later and Olivia's feet are killing her.
"Wow," he says, laughing. "Where did the time go?"
She could fall in love with him so easily.
--
And then she does. It's so easy, just like she thought it would be.
She goes to his apartment now after her auditions, because she's always so nervous she's shaking, and he's so calm it calms her. She's wearing long chandelier earrings that she bought because they're fashionable, but they drag at her ears and catch at her hair, so she's taken them off, laid them on his coffee table.
He comes back in with tea, sees the earrings, gives her a sympathetic look. "I thought those must be hurting."
It's not the only thing that does.
She looks away.
--
He's so determined to be friends. Olivia thinks at first that it's because she's crazy, but then she remembers that he doesn't know she's crazy. Then she thinks it's because she really is everything her mother says she is, but she knows that's not true.
So she asks him. It takes all her courage, a lot of time, a little pushing from Danny and a tiny bit of alcohol, but she finally asks him why he won't date her.
He blinks, and then smiles, his eyes so warm she feels dizzy. "Actually," he says, "I thought you wouldn't date me."
--
"There's something I have to tell you before we start," she says, and takes a deep breath. "I'm crazy. I mean it. I have clinical depression and chronic anxiety, and I come from a background of emotional abuse." It's so hard to say, but Danny's right-- it's true.
Jake looks very odd-- like he's caught between recognition and sorrow. "I guessed," is all he says. "I'm sorry."
She can't breathe. "Does it... change anything?"
"Well," he says, "I've got clinical depression and probably post-traumatic stress disorder, so as long as you can handle that..."
She inhales, and can't stop smiling.
--
She can't even remember what it was about.
Something stupid, she knows that. Maybe he was late. Maybe she cancelled a date. Whatever it was, the fight was short but vicious and now she's out alone in the summer air, trying to calm down.
She hates fights. They make her shake.
The door opens and Jake sits down next to her. He says nothing, and neither does she, because she's still shaking and, she realizes, so is he, so they just sit.
After a moment she lets her hand creep into his.
He twines his fingers with hers.
It's enough.
--
"Olivia," Jake grunts, "what the hell is in this box?"
Olivia peers at it. "Sheet music, I think. Don't be such a baby, it's just paper."
"Paper that weighs a ton," he says, but he carries it up the stairs, and even sets it down instead of dropping it. "Is that the last one?"
"Yep!" She puts own box down and clasps her hands, surveying the room happily. "Our very first apartment!"
"And we're all moved in." He hugs her waist. "This calls for victory sex."
She'd object-- they need to unpack-- but he's already kissing her.
Unpacking can wait.
--
She's always managed to hide before, when the darkness swallows her. She's always managed to keep it to herself. But now they live together and there's no escape.
So when Jake comes home and she still hasn't gotten out of bed, all she can do is hide her face in the pillow and pray he'll leave her alone.
But she's forgotten-- he's been here, he understands. He says nothing, just climbs in beside her and wraps her in his arms, her head against his chest, his heart beating under her ear.
It's comforting. Comfortable.
She closes her eyes and listens.
--
They're having a lazy night in, just the two of them, watching TV and cuddling on the couch in comfortable silence. Jake's got her hand in his lap, tracing lazy designs on her fingers and palm; she's got her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist.
"Can we stay like this forever?" she asks, suddenly.
Jake looks down at her. "I think your arm would fall asleep."
She rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean."
"Yes," he says, and kisses her hair in apology. "I don't see any reason why not."
"Good," she says, and cuddles closer.
--
Except there is a reason, lurking in her soul, a reason she never considered because she never imagined it could be real. But it is real, as real as her father, his arms so tight her ribs creak.
She's so happy she's found him and he still loves her that she can hardly breathe from the joy. She feels thirteen again, and therein lies the problem, because she's broken and crazy, and with her daddy's arms holding her together she can let herself feel how much.
There's pain, under the joy, so much pain, waiting.
Jake deserves better than this.
--
She gets it all settled first. She talks to her father and her new stepmother to be sure it's all right, to Gina to be sure she's doing the right thing. Her father and stepmother are enthusiastic, but Gina looks troubled, and Olivia knows why, because now she's talking to Jake and the words hurt so much she can barely say them.
"I'm leaving," she says, "I'm going to live with my father and we can't be together anymore, you can't wait for me, I won't let you. I won't."
She watches his face crash.
Her heart crashes with it.
--
She misses him desperately.
She misses his hands, and his smile, and the way his eyelashes brush his cheek when he blinks. She misses his sleepy morning kisses, his warmth at her back in bed, even the way he snores. She misses the nights he comes home late, the flowers he buys her to make up for it, the bubble baths they take together, the lazy Saturdays in the park.
She misses their fingers entwined, his mouth on hers, his voice saying her name.
But she tries not to think about it.
She must be grateful for what she has.
--
In the end it's her father who convinces her to go back.
I'm your father, he says, and I will always love you. But they love you too.
He's not just talking about Jake-- he means Gina and Danny and the others as well-- but it's Jake she thinks of in the airplane.
What if he doesn't love her anymore?
She knows that's why she broke up with him, but it scares her, because she still loves him so much, and if he doesn't...
Her father loves her. She knows that now.
She just doesn't know if it'll be enough.
--
They're sitting on the same couch, but at opposite ends-- so far apart where they once might have sat together. His hands are clasped, his elbows on his knees, his head down as if he doesn't want to look at her.
And she-- she can't stop looking at him. At his dark, curling hair, a little long now, his slightly crooked nose, the line of his back.
"I still love you," she says, into the silence. "I never stopped."
They're both quiet for a long time. Then he sighs, and sits up, hands falling to his sides. "Neither did I."
--
There's so many conversations they'll have to have, and they will be complicated, and awkward and probably painful. They're going to have to renegotiate everything, she knows, and he may not ever be able to trust that she'll stay. For that matter, she may not ever be able to trust that he's let it go. It might not matter how hard they try.
But.
They've been through worse before. Maybe not more painful, but worse. And just a moment ago, he reached out and took her hand, folding his fingers between hers.
They'll be all right, she thinks.
It's enough.
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Poached pear 6 (hell or high water), cherry vanilla 14 (cliffhanger), My Treat (Jake and Olivia finally get back together.), malt (marina's flavor roulette prompt: pocky chain starting with Olivia and Jake meeting, and then running through their reconciliation after she lives with Hugh for a while.), pocky chain.
Word Count: 1500
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Olivia and Jake, through the years.
WARNING: discussion of mental illness, (emotional) child abuse, use of 'crazy' as a pejorative, and depictions of depression.
The organ keys are smooth beneath her fingers-- she thinks they might be made of actual ivory. It's a pleasure to play, after years of plastic keys clicking when she presses them; she gets up with reluctance when the service ends.
She's looking wistfully back at the organ as she goes, so she walks right into the young man waiting for her. His hands come up to steady her automatically; she looks up into warm brown eyes and for just a second loses her breath.
"Hello," he says, and smiles, and her breath isn't the only thing Olivia has lost.
--
He asks her if she wants to get some coffee, and hastily adds 'platonically,' which is a little bit crushing. But Olivia has been crushed before; she just smiles and says 'of course.'
They get involved in a discussion of music and walk right past the coffee shop, not that either of them notices. The conversation shifts and they keep walking, street by street, topic by topic, until it's two hours and half the city later and Olivia's feet are killing her.
"Wow," he says, laughing. "Where did the time go?"
She could fall in love with him so easily.
--
And then she does. It's so easy, just like she thought it would be.
She goes to his apartment now after her auditions, because she's always so nervous she's shaking, and he's so calm it calms her. She's wearing long chandelier earrings that she bought because they're fashionable, but they drag at her ears and catch at her hair, so she's taken them off, laid them on his coffee table.
He comes back in with tea, sees the earrings, gives her a sympathetic look. "I thought those must be hurting."
It's not the only thing that does.
She looks away.
--
He's so determined to be friends. Olivia thinks at first that it's because she's crazy, but then she remembers that he doesn't know she's crazy. Then she thinks it's because she really is everything her mother says she is, but she knows that's not true.
So she asks him. It takes all her courage, a lot of time, a little pushing from Danny and a tiny bit of alcohol, but she finally asks him why he won't date her.
He blinks, and then smiles, his eyes so warm she feels dizzy. "Actually," he says, "I thought you wouldn't date me."
--
"There's something I have to tell you before we start," she says, and takes a deep breath. "I'm crazy. I mean it. I have clinical depression and chronic anxiety, and I come from a background of emotional abuse." It's so hard to say, but Danny's right-- it's true.
Jake looks very odd-- like he's caught between recognition and sorrow. "I guessed," is all he says. "I'm sorry."
She can't breathe. "Does it... change anything?"
"Well," he says, "I've got clinical depression and probably post-traumatic stress disorder, so as long as you can handle that..."
She inhales, and can't stop smiling.
--
She can't even remember what it was about.
Something stupid, she knows that. Maybe he was late. Maybe she cancelled a date. Whatever it was, the fight was short but vicious and now she's out alone in the summer air, trying to calm down.
She hates fights. They make her shake.
The door opens and Jake sits down next to her. He says nothing, and neither does she, because she's still shaking and, she realizes, so is he, so they just sit.
After a moment she lets her hand creep into his.
He twines his fingers with hers.
It's enough.
--
"Olivia," Jake grunts, "what the hell is in this box?"
Olivia peers at it. "Sheet music, I think. Don't be such a baby, it's just paper."
"Paper that weighs a ton," he says, but he carries it up the stairs, and even sets it down instead of dropping it. "Is that the last one?"
"Yep!" She puts own box down and clasps her hands, surveying the room happily. "Our very first apartment!"
"And we're all moved in." He hugs her waist. "This calls for victory sex."
She'd object-- they need to unpack-- but he's already kissing her.
Unpacking can wait.
--
She's always managed to hide before, when the darkness swallows her. She's always managed to keep it to herself. But now they live together and there's no escape.
So when Jake comes home and she still hasn't gotten out of bed, all she can do is hide her face in the pillow and pray he'll leave her alone.
But she's forgotten-- he's been here, he understands. He says nothing, just climbs in beside her and wraps her in his arms, her head against his chest, his heart beating under her ear.
It's comforting. Comfortable.
She closes her eyes and listens.
--
They're having a lazy night in, just the two of them, watching TV and cuddling on the couch in comfortable silence. Jake's got her hand in his lap, tracing lazy designs on her fingers and palm; she's got her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist.
"Can we stay like this forever?" she asks, suddenly.
Jake looks down at her. "I think your arm would fall asleep."
She rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean."
"Yes," he says, and kisses her hair in apology. "I don't see any reason why not."
"Good," she says, and cuddles closer.
--
Except there is a reason, lurking in her soul, a reason she never considered because she never imagined it could be real. But it is real, as real as her father, his arms so tight her ribs creak.
She's so happy she's found him and he still loves her that she can hardly breathe from the joy. She feels thirteen again, and therein lies the problem, because she's broken and crazy, and with her daddy's arms holding her together she can let herself feel how much.
There's pain, under the joy, so much pain, waiting.
Jake deserves better than this.
--
She gets it all settled first. She talks to her father and her new stepmother to be sure it's all right, to Gina to be sure she's doing the right thing. Her father and stepmother are enthusiastic, but Gina looks troubled, and Olivia knows why, because now she's talking to Jake and the words hurt so much she can barely say them.
"I'm leaving," she says, "I'm going to live with my father and we can't be together anymore, you can't wait for me, I won't let you. I won't."
She watches his face crash.
Her heart crashes with it.
--
She misses him desperately.
She misses his hands, and his smile, and the way his eyelashes brush his cheek when he blinks. She misses his sleepy morning kisses, his warmth at her back in bed, even the way he snores. She misses the nights he comes home late, the flowers he buys her to make up for it, the bubble baths they take together, the lazy Saturdays in the park.
She misses their fingers entwined, his mouth on hers, his voice saying her name.
But she tries not to think about it.
She must be grateful for what she has.
--
In the end it's her father who convinces her to go back.
I'm your father, he says, and I will always love you. But they love you too.
He's not just talking about Jake-- he means Gina and Danny and the others as well-- but it's Jake she thinks of in the airplane.
What if he doesn't love her anymore?
She knows that's why she broke up with him, but it scares her, because she still loves him so much, and if he doesn't...
Her father loves her. She knows that now.
She just doesn't know if it'll be enough.
--
They're sitting on the same couch, but at opposite ends-- so far apart where they once might have sat together. His hands are clasped, his elbows on his knees, his head down as if he doesn't want to look at her.
And she-- she can't stop looking at him. At his dark, curling hair, a little long now, his slightly crooked nose, the line of his back.
"I still love you," she says, into the silence. "I never stopped."
They're both quiet for a long time. Then he sighs, and sits up, hands falling to his sides. "Neither did I."
--
There's so many conversations they'll have to have, and they will be complicated, and awkward and probably painful. They're going to have to renegotiate everything, she knows, and he may not ever be able to trust that she'll stay. For that matter, she may not ever be able to trust that he's let it go. It might not matter how hard they try.
But.
They've been through worse before. Maybe not more painful, but worse. And just a moment ago, he reached out and took her hand, folding his fingers between hers.
They'll be all right, she thinks.
It's enough.