Olivia Vitale is trying her best to get her life back on track. After escaping an abusive relationship, she moves back to her home city of Joy. She promises her roommate Carol to take it slow with relationships. That promise becomes harder to keep a...
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 emotional toll of the previous day made sure Olivia fell asleep at a normal time. Most nights when she had work, she couldn't go to bed before 4 am. But that night, both she and Bucky were asleep before midnight. She woke up around 8, without Bucky in bed. The first thing she did was call her supervisor, and after a long entangled and messy conversation, she was able to explain her situation. After some struggles on her part, she was able to get the next week off. It was either that or quitting on her part and it seemed every hospital in the entire country always was in need of staff.
She sighs deeply. Her head rests against the wall of the living room. The phone lets out a soft beeping from the ended call, and she puts the handset back on top. The sound finally quiets. She's tired. Hungry. And Bucky is nowhere to see in the apartment.
Olivia gets up from the floor and stretches her slightly sore knees from the entire hour spent in an uncomfortable position. Grabbing a hair tie on the way, she ties her braids together away from her face and makes her way into the kitchen. In the fridge, she finds milk and eggs and gets straight to work on making pancakes and waffles. Carol didn't have a waffle iron, but Bucky does and she's ever grateful.
The batter doesn't take long to mix together and then she gets to work on finding some music. She's never looked through the place properly. There's the record player in the living room. Olivia just has to figure out where he keeps his records. They aren't placed next to the thing. Her nose scrunches in dismay.
Why not keep the records close to the record player?
Looking through the cabinets in the room feels a little wrong. She doesn't belong here. Her things are here. Her books are lining the shelves, but the place doesn't feel like hers. Her anxiety spikes. Guilt flooding.
She's spent enough time with Phil to know why. Brock would never allow her to go through things like this. She did it once, it was her home after all. She ended up at the hospital after that. Fear is prickling her spine and she stops looking through the cabinets, taking deep breaths instead to try and calm herself down.
Olivia takes 10 of them. Her heart begins beating slower as she grounds herself. Her gaze swims over the room and she lists things she can see aloud. Then the ones she can smell. Then hear. Focusing on her senses is also when she realises there's a distinct smell of gasoline and oil in the air. A sound of metal working against metal.
And then she realises where he must be. The garage. Back in the bedroom, she glances around for the shorts he ripped off her last night. She's sure they landed somewhere on the floor, but they're gone. The laundry basket. A smile crosses her face, realising he has already cleaned up before she woke.
Olivia grabs a clean set of shorts and careens through the apartment. Grabbing a set of keys, she locks the door behind her and continues to the garage. The sound gets louder the closer she gets – as does the smell – and inside of the garage, she finds a set of legs bent at the knees underneath the chevy impala.
