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rainbowfic2013-06-29 11:42 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2013-06-29 11:42 pm
Cotton Candy 16, Old Lace 5: be ok
Author: Kat
Title: be ok
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Cotton candy 16 (rolling down the hill) with blossom's paint-by-numbers (Olivia has a bad day; Jake helps her with it the best way he can.), old lace 5 (It is pretty and it is quaint, but it is very self-consciously so.) with Sara's paint-by-numbers (Someone's mask slips.)
Supplies and Materials: Novelty beads (take a deep breath).
Word Count: 460
Rating: PG
Summary: Olivia has a rough day, and Jake helps. A little, but it's help.
Warnings: depiction of depression.
Notes: It's Olivia and Jake day, apparently. Except for the Shine Like It Does stuff coming up. And Michael. Fuck yeah Michael.
She held on to her smile all day by the skin of her teeth.
Olivia didn't know why she'd gotten out of bed today. She should have called in sick, pulled the covers over her head, and let herself drift into the weird empty limbo that always accompanied an episode. But she hadn't, and she'd had to smile all day, pretend that she was fine.
She was very good at pretending she was fine, of course. She thought sometimes that everyone with depression was. Still, it was a mask and it felt like one, stiff and false and frozen.
It was lucky for her that no one really looked at retail employees.
She was home now, at least, with her back up against the front door. Her eyes closed and she let them, let her head fall for a moment, let her spine bow and her shoulders droop. No one was here to see her, she could take just a moment to gather herself and—
"Oh my God," Jake blurted, and she jerked up, her hair falling back over her cheeks. He was standing a few feet away, jacketless and with his shirt sleeves rolled up, his hands spotted with black ink.
"Livvy, sweetheart, are you okay?"
"I—" she began, reaching for the usual I'm fine, but this was Jake and he had been there so he could see right through her and anyway he wanted to know, he really did, so her face crumpled and what she actually said was, "No, no, I'm not okay."
"Oh, love." He crossed the distance between them and put his arms around her shoulders, heavy and warm. "I'm here."
--
After she had cried a bit into his shoulder, she went and changed into her oldest, most comfortable pair of pajamas, and came out into the living room again to find that Jake had made hot cocoa and was channel-surfing. "I’m looking for something mindless," he explained, when she asked. "I've had a pretty long day myself and I thought maybe just... cuddles?"
Olivia smiled a bit at that. As if he'd ever have to ask for cuddles.
He settled finally on some cop show she'd never seen before, and she settled in at his side, mug of cocoa warm between her hands, Jake's arm warm over her shoulders, his chest and shoulder warm against her face. He even reached over and tucked a blanket around her bare feet before relaxing into the couch—warm.
She always felt cold when she was depressed. She still felt pretty terrible, but at least she wasn't cold.
Olivia closed her eyes, let the oddly soothing sounds of television gunfire and shouting wash over her, and let herself slowly warm up.
She'd definitely call in sick tomorrow.
Title: be ok
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Cotton candy 16 (rolling down the hill) with blossom's paint-by-numbers (Olivia has a bad day; Jake helps her with it the best way he can.), old lace 5 (It is pretty and it is quaint, but it is very self-consciously so.) with Sara's paint-by-numbers (Someone's mask slips.)
Supplies and Materials: Novelty beads (take a deep breath).
Word Count: 460
Rating: PG
Summary: Olivia has a rough day, and Jake helps. A little, but it's help.
Warnings: depiction of depression.
Notes: It's Olivia and Jake day, apparently. Except for the Shine Like It Does stuff coming up. And Michael. Fuck yeah Michael.
She held on to her smile all day by the skin of her teeth.
Olivia didn't know why she'd gotten out of bed today. She should have called in sick, pulled the covers over her head, and let herself drift into the weird empty limbo that always accompanied an episode. But she hadn't, and she'd had to smile all day, pretend that she was fine.
She was very good at pretending she was fine, of course. She thought sometimes that everyone with depression was. Still, it was a mask and it felt like one, stiff and false and frozen.
It was lucky for her that no one really looked at retail employees.
She was home now, at least, with her back up against the front door. Her eyes closed and she let them, let her head fall for a moment, let her spine bow and her shoulders droop. No one was here to see her, she could take just a moment to gather herself and—
"Oh my God," Jake blurted, and she jerked up, her hair falling back over her cheeks. He was standing a few feet away, jacketless and with his shirt sleeves rolled up, his hands spotted with black ink.
"Livvy, sweetheart, are you okay?"
"I—" she began, reaching for the usual I'm fine, but this was Jake and he had been there so he could see right through her and anyway he wanted to know, he really did, so her face crumpled and what she actually said was, "No, no, I'm not okay."
"Oh, love." He crossed the distance between them and put his arms around her shoulders, heavy and warm. "I'm here."
--
After she had cried a bit into his shoulder, she went and changed into her oldest, most comfortable pair of pajamas, and came out into the living room again to find that Jake had made hot cocoa and was channel-surfing. "I’m looking for something mindless," he explained, when she asked. "I've had a pretty long day myself and I thought maybe just... cuddles?"
Olivia smiled a bit at that. As if he'd ever have to ask for cuddles.
He settled finally on some cop show she'd never seen before, and she settled in at his side, mug of cocoa warm between her hands, Jake's arm warm over her shoulders, his chest and shoulder warm against her face. He even reached over and tucked a blanket around her bare feet before relaxing into the couch—warm.
She always felt cold when she was depressed. She still felt pretty terrible, but at least she wasn't cold.
Olivia closed her eyes, let the oddly soothing sounds of television gunfire and shouting wash over her, and let herself slowly warm up.
She'd definitely call in sick tomorrow.
no subject
Understandably so. I definitely identified with it.