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Olivia looks at Natalia and sees red.
It’s pulsing, bleeding, angry red that stings the back of her eyes and gets her chest thumping like a speaker with too much bass: heavy and hard and the kind of sound she can hear in her ears even when she walks away.
It’s hatred, plain and simple. It’s hatred for Natalia and all her smile and her laugh and her world where everything she’s ever wanted just seems to fall into place: her son getting a father, her heart finally being returned, by Gus – her fairytale ending.
Olivia hopes that Natalia never gets that fairytale ending. Not unless Olivia gets it first.
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Olivia looks at Natalia and sees green.
It’s pathetic, barbaric, appalling green that stings the back of her eyes and gets her chest thumping like a revolving door: heavy and hard and the kind of sound that sets a rhythm she can’t help but nod along to.
It’s jealousy, complicated and simple. It’s jealousy over Natalia and her smile and her laugh and her world where everything she’s ever wanted just seems to fall into place: her son getting a short break from prison, her heart finally being returned, by Frank (even when it should be Olivia getting Natalia’s heart) – her fairytale ending.
Olivia hopes that Natalia never gets that fairytale ending. Not unless Olivia gets it with her.
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Olivia looks at Natalia and sees white.
It’s pristine, blinding, angelic white that stings the back of her eyes and gets her chest thumping like a drum set: heavy and hard and the kind of sound that echoes through the auditorium even when all the audience has gone home.
It’s love, complicated and hard. It’s love for Natalia and all her smile and her laugh and her world where everything she’s ever wanted just seems to fall into place: her son getting out of prison, her heart finally being returned, by Olivia – her fairytale ending.
Olivia hopes that Natalia never loses that fairytale ending. Not if that means Olivia has to lose it too.
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Olivia looks at Natalia and sees blue.
It’s persistent, badgering, antagonistic blue that stings the back of her eyes and gets her chest thumping like the slow, steady pace of her pacemaker: heavy and hard and the kind of sound that lulls her to sleep each night, clutching a pillow like it’s a substitute for Natalia.
It’s longing, plain and hard. It’s longing for Natalia and all her smile and her laugh and her world where everything she’s ever wanted just seems to fall into place: her son getting to be a big brother, her heart beating in harmony, with her unborn child – her fairytale ending.
Olivia hopes that Natalia never stops wishing for that happy ending. Not if that means that Natalia has given up on her.