STAY AUDIO

Hunter is retelling a story in which a character named Liv receives a necklace as a gift and feels a strong connection to it. Liv then goes home to her apartment and reflects on her past and her most precious possessions. She discovers a broken lockbox with sentimental items inside. Liv is reminded of her first partner, who is no longer with her, and feels a mix of emotions. She tries to relax by taking a bath and doing her skincare routine, but is still restless. Suddenly, Liv sees Elliot, her former partner, standing in front of her. Overwhelmed, she confesses that she doesn't want him to leave. Elliot asks if she is asking him to stay, and Liv hesitates before admitting that she does not want him to leave again. They share a passionate kiss and decide to spend the night together. Hunter apologizes for any mistakes made in the retelling and hopes it is better this time. Okay, part two, or take two, of Hunter trying to read this fig because the first time she read it she was too nervous and it came out fucking terribly. So, here is take two. Tosh, I don't know if you're going to add that in there, but, you know, whatever. Okay. Lead you to happiness, Liv. The sentiment echoes in her ear as she admires his gift, and it is something to be admired. Last to leave for the evening, the captain uses the precinct's second-floor restroom to change the bandages covering the stitched-up pellet gun wounds on her hips and thoroughly washes her hands. She can go home and take a painkiller, but she's eager to see the necklace on, so she takes the compass, expertly doing the clasp at the nape of her neck, and looks up into the mirror. Olivia almost doesn't recognize the woman beaming back at her. Brushing her long curls aside, she admires the lucent piece, from the delicate chain to the circular pendant, resting in the dip of her cleavage. It's perfect, as if the necklace was made for her. Wait, her fingers idle while stroking and affixing it, allowing it to let it fall a little lower. Was it? Was this something Elliot Stable had made for her? Noah's at a sleepover, leaving Liv in an empty apartment with a bottle of red and a night with nothing else to do. Restless, she pads barefoot through the new and bigger place into her bedroom. Her bedroom is her refuge, and she's protective of her space. In packing for this most recent move, Olivia decided to downsize. She didn't need every memento from the last 40 years, plus and after the pain of going through her burden box last year. She consolidated her most precious possessions and meaningful memories into just one. It's a simple lockbox, separate from the safe. Except the lock is broken, and there is no key. It holds different items. Her homecoming queen sash, a silver comb, a first baby tooth of Noah's. Olivia touches each piece with the utmost care. She smiles at the original black and white photo of her and her first partner, and feels the pain of loss remains in the form of his Marine Corps medallion and three words scribbled on its post-it note. Sympathy, Elle. She holds it between thumb and forefinger, thinking that both the medallion and the compass are a kind of goodbye from the same man, but they're different in their meaning. Two tokens, one with a promise and one with a purpose. Lead you to happiness, Liz. A glass of Cabernet is the reward at the end of a long day, or in this case, a long week. But tonight it does nothing to help her relax. The tense muscles of an overworked body always reminding her of the tricks of time. Again, restless, Olivia scans a pile of takeout menus, peruses a cabinet, then gives up and goes to draw a hot bath and to try and soak away the stress. When even a long soak doesn't offer relief, Olivia towels off and pulls her hair up before beginning her intensive skincare regimen. Noah used to call the bottles her potions and Liv remembers a time before Noah when sunscreen and mascara were all she wore to work. If Elle saw all of this, a smile splits her face and then it's gone. A smile splits her face and then it's gone. Tears pulling in her brown eyes and falling one, two, like fat raindrops sliding down her cheeks. Scrubbed pink. She sniffs and runs a detangling comb through her wet hair. And damn it, Olivia curses over a few silver strands her stylist had missed and has to laugh at herself over all of this. It used to be so much simpler, she thinks, skipping a few steps by pulling her hair back with a claw clip. She retrieves her makeup bag and adds a little color to her face. In seeing her reflection, she smiles, feeling more herself than she has in years. Working this case with Elliot, she kept thinking about when they were young, nostalgic for those days. But that's not all it is. She decides between slipping into flats and grabbing keys and a light jacket. Whatever that feeling is, she can't let it go. Again. When Olivia opens the door to go, it's right in front of her. He's right in front of her. Elliot. She breathes as she takes him in, all six feet of him. His presence taking up her whole doorway. His gaze creeping up to meet her. Hey. His cheeks are flushed and he's breathing heavy, as if he jogged and he's looking her over. Oh. He says back. You're on your way out. I. No, I was. She stammers. I was on my way to see you. She confesses. I wanted to. Olivia bag. I wanted to. Olivia's bag slides off her shoulder and falls to the floor. And she's looking at him because he's here. So she blurs it out all at once. Please don't go. She says. I don't have any right to ask. Apologetic. She takes a step back and he takes one forward to meet her. Ask. His voice is coarse. Expression unchanged. Fiddling with the gold chain. The delicate skin under it. Pink. Hmm. When she doesn't ask, doesn't say anything, he prompts. Are you asking me to stay? And Olivia shakes her head. I can't ask you to stay. She repeats, both hands covering his, over his heart. But. He's watching her lips speak, tracing every syllable, every word, with his eyes. Following and nodding his understanding and encouraging her. Asking. But. But. Eyelids flutter closed. Their hands over her heart. But I don't want you to leave. I don't want you to leave again. Wordlessly, he closes the space between them. Stroking her cheek. Memorizing her eyes and kissing her. Finding her head tilted and lips parted. Liz. Her body is moving with his and she looks up and eyes as dark as the ocean in a storm. I can stay tonight. He offers. Okay? And kisses the answer off her lips with no intention of stopping till tomorrow. Hopefully that was better. Sorry I fucked up the first time, Tosh. Sorry I also am giving this to you today. But, yeah. Hope that was better. Um. Yeah.