calliopes_muse

Title: What Now?

Fandom: Otalia

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Not mine, they belong to CBS.

Spoilers: YES for this week's upcoming episodes though there is NO WAY I could match the magnificent writing of the GL writers.

A/N: I don't know how many of these I'm going to do, but we'll see where it takes me. Forgive me, it's kind of jumping around right now, and I'm changing POV's in each part. If I was going to do this in any sort of rational order, this would be a regular fic, not a bunch of miscellaneous drabbles. Oh, and more angst...sorry!

Part 4

The cold wind outside the church hits me hard and the tears slide easily down my face aided by the chilly air. I make it about two blocks down the street before I feel a hand grab me and whip me around. Blazing green eyes are boring into mine.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Natalia? Get back in there before it’s too late.” She’s pointing in the direction of the church and over her shoulder I can see half of the Cooper clan already on the front steps.

“No,” I look at her incredulous, “And how can you tell me to do that? How can you just push me off on Frank Cooper when you’re in love with me?”

“Because you can’t do this.”

“And you know this, how? Did you ever give me a chance? No, you wait until the day of the wedding to tell me you’re in love with me and then you don’t give me a chance to respond. I’m not the one who can’t do this, you are.” It was a verbal slap, and I know it. I felt the sting of it shake me to the core, and I can’t look at her. I turn to walk away.

“Natalia, wait!”

I stop and turn back, “I’m going home, Liv. We’ll talk there, okay?”

The tears fall down her face in earnest, but she musters a small nod of acknowledgement. Somehow we’ll work this out, but we’ll do it at home…our home.

******

I let a few minutes pass, until I was sure she had found her way upstairs to her bedroom, before heading back inside. I knew I wouldn’t sleep tonight. The moments seemed to tick by endlessly. If I was still and silent enough, I could hear the soft shuffling of her feet on the floor as she got ready for bed.

For a moment, all sounds stopped and then I heard it, a soft steady murmur like a muffled chant drifted through the wall. I got up and walked to the far wall, pressing my hand against the cold, immovable object indicative of our situation, before resting my head there as well.

She was praying, and even though I couldn’t make out the words, I could hear the hesitation in her voice and the pauses she made to sniffle away her tears. My heart broke and I wanted more than anything to walk through that wall and wrap her in my arms, make all the pain go away. All of the pain I had caused.

She had been right. I was scared of this. It wasn’t the fear of loving her, and it certainly wasn’t about what people would think. I had never let public opinion bother me. It was my fear of letting her down, of not being good enough for someone like her. The fear of inevitability ate at me because I was sure it was as much a guarantee that I’d break her heart as that the sun would rise. How could I ask her to sacrifice all she believed in, all she held dear, for the inevitable chance that Olivia Spencer would break her heart?

It had been several long minutes that I rested there with my head against the wall. I found myself lulling into a sort of wakeful sleep. She was still praying, but her voice was stronger now. The tears had subsided. Her faith had amazed me on more than one occasion, and I had almost vicariously drawn strength from it.

Perhaps I had underestimated her ability to deal with this. Perhaps she was stronger than I realized. She was going to need it…for both of us.