skullsort‌:
the more he looks at her, the more guilty he feels. by now it’s easy enough for elliot to read when olivia’s exhausted, and she’s making no real effort to hide it. too tired to hide it, which says enough about it. on the subway, he was trying to think of how he’d explain this, like the way he’d plan what to say to krista on bad days. it sounds stupid to just say that he couldn’t sleep, and it was a few degrees beyond that. it wasn’t that he couldn’t sleep. it was that he couldn’t still. he couldn’t ground himself. he couldn’t find himself. mr. robot even looked a little off-balance.
there’s something - a soft exhale that’s more subconscious when her fingers tangle in his hair. when he does that same motion, it’s a nervous gesture, something to do with his hands when he pushes the hood down and experiences that moment of fearful exposure. but when it’s someone else doing it, especially olivia, it almost feels like it’s untangling something in his shoulders, her touch trailing down his neck towards that knot of stress falling apart.
keep touching me. or don’t. he can’t tell which one he wants more. “the shower was more for me anyway.” wake up. stay alert. force his brain into overdrive so he could leave his apartment without feeling too vulnerable.
on her request, elliot shuffles over to the couch, placing the coffee down on the table in front of the couch and working off the hoodie as he goes. it ends up crumpled into a ball and left on the far end from the couch from him, him leaning back for a moment and staring up at the ceiling. aimless looking. is it cold in here? he isn’t really noticing. it doesn’t feel real, even though he’s in the same t-shirt as always. his voice is a low mumble as he glances over at her. “tv might be good, yeah. i… i’ll watch anything. and i’d take monstrous over. you know. the normal shit.”
of course he would. he doesn’t like holidays, but halloween would be his favorite. “thanks for letting me show up. i’ll be okay in a little bit. it’s just.. you know.” a vague gesture up at his skull like that explains anything besides my brain feels like it’s overheating. // @glittcrrp​
there’s an apparent relief in him when she touches him. so she follows, sitting down besides him on the couch with a low grunt in her throat. she swings her legs up to tuck beneath her as she reaches her fingers up towards his hair again. digging and brushing through the locks in an odd mimicry of how she would touch allen when nightmares chased him into her room. elliot has been there for those, once or twice but not enough to understand the mimicry she’s offering, olivia is sure. Â
better like that. better for him not to realize, not to feel shame from it. he’s already bare in so many ways with the stripping of his favorite blanket off of his arms, leaving scars and twitching muscles visible as she watches him sag into the couch. the air is luke warm. nothing bad for sleeping, but a bitterness to bare skin. goosebumps already trickling across his elliot’s skin even if he seems oblivious to it, mumbling on unfiltered words.
olivia nods slowly. with her free hand she turns on the television, flipping to netflix and smashing okay until dragula begins to play.  “okay. yeah, you’ll like this.” he won’t even watch it, but that’s not the point. normalcy is what matters here, pretending that they’re okay. Â
still her fingers curve and twist through his hair.  “yeah, a little bit eh. that’s okay, baby, i didn’t kick you out. just let you in instead.” they tangle together in the smallest but most crucial of ways as olivia watches him in silence for a moment. then, softly, “do you want to talk?” // @skullsort​













