A Gay Vibe From Me?

Chapter 12

The rest of Olivia's shift had been filled with astronomical amounts of anxiety; it seemed as though nothing could diminish the high levels of cortisol plaguing her brain. After Carisi had barged in on her crying, Olivia was again crass with the caring young man, who just wanted to help, just as she had been on Saturday night when he interrupted her conversation with Amanda. The brunette felt a little guilty, but even countless vain attempts to take deep breaths couldn't calm her, and she is both too physically and emotionally exhausted to really care about anything other than Amanda Rollins today. The lieutenant tried her best to remain present for both her colleagues and the victims she was dealing with for the remainder of her day, but to no avail.

Amanda and Olivia had remained texting each other throughout the rest of Olivia's shift, but that just didn't seem to be enough to settle the usually independent, older woman, who ordinarily appreciates her solitude. Olivia is completely frustrated with just how clingy she feels toward Amanda lately, especially with how frequently her chaotic mind played tricks on her each time the younger woman didn't text back right away. With another attempt to calm her nervous system by taking a deep breath and focusing on something she can hear, see, and touch, Olivia is subsequently relieved when she sees Fin and Carisi starting to pack up their belongings, meaning it is finally the end of their workday. As she begins to gather up her purse and shrugs on a lengthy, grey-colored pea coat over her shoulders, her phone buzzes again, which promptly sends her already-jumpy body into a something like a state of shock.

"Can you come over?"

The text from the younger woman is so simple, and so short, that Olivia needs to re-read it twice more to fully grasp the magnitude it contains. She feels a heat blooming in her cheeks and her heart hammering against her ribs as she speedily taps her fingers over the keyboard to reply "Absolutely. Be there in thirty."

As soon as Olivia steps off the elevator and walks toward Amanda's apartment, her ears are greeted with the sounds of muffled sobs and heavy panting as she inches closer to the door. Olivia intuitively knew that the younger woman had been silently grieving; no matter how much she denied it or tried to put on a brave face. Overcome with guilt for going back to work today, she softly places her head against the dark stained wood; tears streaming down her cheeks as clumps of brunette strands soak against her neck. She chokes back a loud sob as listens more closely at Amanda's pain. "Okay, Liv," she whispers out loud to herself, "put your own goddamn feelings aside. Your girl needs you right now." She inhales three, quiet breaths, and emotionally readies herself for what's waiting inside.

"'M...'Manda?" Olivia lightly prods, tapping the tips of her fingernails against the wood in lieu of a full knock, careful not to startle the emotional detective. "It's me, sweetheart...it's Liv."

The older woman loudly exhales sigh of relief and uses the sleeve of her coat to wipe the tears from her cheeks when she hears a figure get up from what she assumes is the couch, and pad across the floor toward the entrance of the apartment. As soon as Amanda unhooks the pad-lock and the door is opened, Olivia has to consciously work to keep her face unexpressive, once she sees how sick and sad the tiny blonde looks.

"Hey, sweetheart," Olivia whispers to the tear-stricken, shaking detective as she grabs the tiny body into her arms, "it's okay, I'm here." The younger woman is clad in nothing but a little pair of Soffe shorts and a white tank top, leaving little to Olivia's imagination; however, she tries to cram down the rising arousal she feels blooming in between her thighs as she comforts her devastated detective. Amanda's usually polished and straight blonde hair has morphed into a hybrid of a half-bun, half-down bird's nest; there are strands sticking up and out from all over, which only amplifies just how sick she looks. Any makeup she was wearing previously earlier in the day has streaked down her face from crying so much; mascara and eyeliner clumped into little, chunky hills in the purple rings underneath her tired eyes.