Chapter Text
Olivia stood in the kitchen of her Manhattan apartment, stirring a pot of pasta. The aroma of simmering tomato sauce filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of freshly baked garlic bread. All pre-made, of course.
It was a rare quiet evening, and she cherished these moments with Noah and Elliot. Living together had been an adjustment for everyone, but the bond they shared made it all worthwhile.
"Noah, can you set the table, please?" Olivia called out, glancing toward the living room where her twelve-year-old son was engrossed in a video game.
"Sure, Mom!" Noah replied, pausing his game and jumping up. He grabbed the plates and cutlery, carefully arranging them on the dining table.
Elliot walked in from the bedroom, a stack of papers in hand. "Hey, Liv, have you seen my—"
"Your reports? They’re on the desk," Olivia answered without missing a beat.
"Thanks." He set the papers down and walked over to her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Smells amazing."
"Thanks. Just a simple dinner," she said, smiling at him. As he turned to leave the kitchen, she noticed his clothes strewn across the floor—his jacket on a chair, his shoes by the door, and his socks on the hallway rug. She took a deep breath, reminding herself of the countless ways she loved him.
As Olivia watched Elliot head back into the living room, she shook her head slightly, amused yet frustrated by his casual trail of belongings.
She turned back to the stove, giving the sauce another stir, and thought about how life had become a whirlwind of domesticity mixed with their chaotic work schedules.
Dinner was nearly ready when Elliot returned to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway with a relaxed grin. “Need any help?”
“Actually, yes. Could you grab the garlic bread from the oven? And maybe pick up your jacket... and your shoes... and possibly your socks? Maybe put them in the hamper? It’s right there in the bedroom,” Olivia raised her eyebrows playfully, gesturing towards the cluttered hallway.
Elliot chuckled sheepishly, running a hand over his head. “Right, the socks. I’m on it.” He moved to retrieve his scattered items.
Olivia watched him with a mixture of affection and mild exasperation. Living with someone after so many years of independence required adjustments, and she was still getting used to the small annoyances that came with sharing her space.
“You know, I was thinking, this weekend we could do a big clean-up around here, sort out some of this mess.”
Olivia smiled, appreciating the gesture. “That sounds like a great idea. Maybe we can make it a family affair - get Noah involved too.”
“Yeah, he can learn a thing or two about not leaving video game controllers on the sofa,” Elliot added with a laugh as he picked up his jacket.
Noah, overhearing their conversation, chimed in from the dining room, “Hey, I clean up my games! You are the messy one!”
“Sure you do, buddy,” Elliot replied with a teasing tone, giving Noah a wink as he walked by with his socks in hand.
As they gathered around the table, the familiar comfort of family enveloped Olivia. She served the pasta and garlic bread, taking a moment to look at Elliot and Noah, feeling a surge of affection for both. Elliot caught her gaze and smiled, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
“Thanks for this, Liv. It’s perfect,” he said, his voice warm with gratitude.
Olivia nodded, her heart full. “It’s the simple things, right?”
Noah, already digging into his plate, mumbled an agreement, his mouth full of pasta.