When In Rome - [Bensler EO] ✓

Chapter Four - Day Three

Elliot Stabler's Villa

9:35 A.M.

1/18

When she had woken, she was acutely aware that she was not alone. A solidifying warmth radiated from beside her, beneath her fingertips and against her cheek. She felt a gentle hand lying on her back as her head rested between his head and shoulder. Her hand rose and fell on his chest with each deep breath he took.

Nothing but the sound of the waves in the distance paired with their mutual breathing filled the room. The TV was silenced, no hyper kids running about. Nothing that even remotely related to her daily life. Still in a sleepy fog, she nestled closer against him, feeling the heavy weight of tiredness in her eyelids.

She didn't want to open her eyes and face the facts that her subconscious was screaming at her. Instead, she pushed it away as if it were the snooze button on her daily alarm. She didn't want to know who's arms she was in or where she was, she wanted the warmth and nothing else.

Despite the fact that the peace and quiet was all she ever dreamed of, it was becoming all too realistic in her mind. Pushing away the truth was growing more difficult and the awkwardness began to replace the bliss. She listened closely to the sounds coming from his chest, trying to decipher whether or not he was awake or still sleeping.

The slow and steady deep breaths tipped her off to the fact that he was still asleep and unaware of their currently tangled state. She wasn't sure if she was more afraid of what she felt or more afraid of what he would feel as soon as he was awake. For now, it was a dead tie.

Taking one more moment to soak up the euphoric comfort she felt in his arms, she carefully unravelled herself from his grip. She sat up on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid the sound of squeaking springs.

Her head turned around to take a closer look at him. He looked peaceful for the first time since she had arrived. No tremors or twitches, his skin wasn't nearly as pale as it was the day previous. For the first time in ten years, she was finally able to catch a glimpse of who Elliot really was now, beneath the torturous hold that the drugs had, beneath the gloomy state of what life felt like. He had aged beautifully.

When she had arrived, he was 36 hours into detoxing. Coming up on 84 hours, the comfort of seeing him beginning to return to his old self covered the awkwardness of how it felt to wake up in his arms. She fought off the urge to brush her fingertips against his temple, knowing it would wake him up. Instead, she simply gazed.

A painful smile graced her face when she realized that his peace would be disrupted. If she found him to be well enough today, she knew she had to begin to explain the things she had held back. He deserved to know the truth and all of it, including the ugly parts.

She slipped away from the couch, leaving him to continue resting. She quietly rifled through her suitcase and grabbed a fresh pair of clothes before retreating to the bathroom. The water slowly shifted from frigid to warm, embracing her as she stepped under the stream.

There was a guilt that came with washing off his fingerprints from her skin; a sadness that she hadn't expected in the least. Any remnants of his touch that lit her nerves aflame were swirling down the drain. She had washed a lot of fingerprints from off her body in her life, but rarely was it paired with a longing for them to return.

Her brown locks of hair became drenched as she leaned her head back under the water, feeling the heavy weight of the brunette strands as they soaked. Oh how blissful life could be in the quietness on the shore. She felt a wall go up in her mind as she forced herself to remember that none of this was permanent. Soon, New York would be reacquainted with her face, her badge would glisten in the headlights of the busy streets, and Italy would be in the rearview mirror.