⋆˚꩜｡ sunny ⋆˚꩜｡

She stares at the doors, like if she wishes hard enough, the elevator will spit Alex back up, and she’ll apologise, and something will be different this time. She’s so caught up in the delusional hopefulness that she doesn’t hear Amanda behind her.

“That was intense,” she says, not pushing, but her voice has a curious lilt to it that she can’t disguise. Liv huffs out a sigh, running a hand through her hair. She turns from the elevator, can’t bear to face it anymore — not when all she sees is Alex, angrily jabbing the bottom for her floor, the way she refused to look up at her before the doors closed.

“Yeah,” Liv breathes out; intense doesn’t really cover it. “Yeah, there’s uh- there’s history there.”

She knows she doesn’t owe Amanda — or anyone — an explanation, but the tension between her and Alex had been palpable since she arrived back at SVU, and she can’t brush it under the rug the way she’d like to. They can’t work together anymore, not the way they used to. The civility isn’t there, every conversation bubbles over into frustration, ending in borderline screaming matches in the middle of the precinct, the courthouse, hell — even outside Alex’s apartment one night.

Amanda doesn’t press on Olivia’s reply, but she can see the question in her eyes, sparkling in a way that reminds her so much of Alex that she almost finds herself leaning in. Instead, she scoffs at the very thought, sinking into the bench nearest the elevator. She should go back to the precinct, or at least to her car, anywhere that doesn’t have Alex’s perfume still lingering in the corridors.

“We - uh, we dated,” she finds herself saying, and the surprise in Amanda’s face is evident. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, and Olivia can see her thinking about it, how to respond.

“Damn,” she settles on, more southern than Olivia has ever heard her. “You been holding out on me, Benson?” She jokes, because it’s all she knows how to do.

Olivia manages a soft laugh, not because Amanda’s unattractive — in fact, quite the opposite. She reminds her a lot of Alex, and she’s rather surprised she’s never thought about going there before. Amanda sees it, the effort it takes her to laugh, and she softens, just slightly, reaching out for Liv’s knee.

“Hey,” she mutters, “I’m sorry, it must be hard, having to work with her.”

Liv shakes her head, laughing bitterly.

“No, it’s-” she pauses to sigh, “we didn’t end well. Mostly my fault. She’s angry, I get it.”

“And you?” Amanda asks, soft like if she pushes any harder, Liv will run. “You still angry?”

“Not angry.” Liv mutters, running a hand over her face in frustration. “No, just- still hurts. I get mad at her for stupid stuff, because-”

“Because you’re mad at yourself?” Amanda finishes, and Liv nods, her eyes welling up. She’s disgusted at herself, for still being upset over this, for letting something so historic get in the way of her here and now.

“Yeah,” she confirms, blinking hard to rid herself of the salt in her eyes. “Yeah. I was stupid, stubborn. Insecure. She was pushy, always had to be right,”

She stands, her legs fidgeting under the scrutiny of Amanda’s eyes.

“I’d never- God, I’d never been with a woman before. I was scared.”

“Hm. You pushed her away?” Amanda asks, because she knows. She knows Liv, but she also knows that that’s like — to be so terrified of happiness that you have to ruin it before something else does.

“Yeah. She wanted- I don’t know - to be open, or more open. I wasn’t ready. I don’t think I would’ve ever been.”

“That’s not your fault, Liv. It was a different time.”

“I know,” Liv mutters, shrugging nonchalantly. She paces, the smell of Alex still stuck on her, their past still stuck on her. She wants to wash, get rid of it; the feelings, the regret. She doesn’t think 100 showers would rid her of the feeling of Alexandra Cabot.

“I know,” she continues, “but I could’ve tried, a little. I didn’t, just pushed and shut down, and she-”

She paused, wrinkling her nose to stop herself from crying again.

“I was shitty. She didn’t deserve it. The timing wasn’t- you know.” Liv shrugs.

“Right person, wrong time type thing?” Amanda asks, and Liv laughs bitterly again.

“No. No, because we’re here, now, and— and now, she’s with someone else.”

“That blows, Liv. I’m sorry.” Amanda says, softly, coming up to touch Liv’s arm, gently.

“No, no, she has the right to move on. I don’t have the right to be mad about it.” Liv breathes out, grabbing her bag. “Casey treats her well, I just need to- I don’t know- I need to get over it.”

“Easier said than done,” Amanda comforts, and turns with Liv, back toward the elevator to leave. Instead, they both stop, their path blocked by the tall blonde, who is gripping her bag, hard like it’s a lifeline.

“You had to wait until I was happy for this, Liv?” She says, her tone bitter.

“Alex- I didn’t mean to-”

“No, you know what? You’re right, Liv. You do need to get over it.”