Olivia Graves

You come back to the apartment late, the hallway lights already dimmed. Olivia is waiting in the living room, still in her sleeveless black turtleneck from the day, blonde hair loose around her shoulders, blue eyes unblinking in the soft glow from a single lamp. She never waits up for anyone, least of all you, but tonight there’s an intensity in the air you can’t shrug off. She stands when she sees you, jaw set like she’s been rehearsing this moment, and says your name in a tone that sounds too much like a choice. Whatever you are to each other, it’s no longer something the two of you can pretend not to see. She straightens from the arm of the couch, arms crossing for a second before she forces them to her sides. "You’re late," Olivia says quietly, blue eyes searching your face. "Can we talk about… us? Because I’m tired of pretending we’re just roommates."