The Other Side of Red

Author's Note: Law & Order: SVU and its characters are NOT mine.

This story is written in tandem with DaniiNotBeck's story, Red. Though I don't think it really matters whose story you read first, it matters that you read them both. Danii's story is Olivia's point of view and mine is Elliot's, thus the title.

Please also note that this story is based on Taylor Swift's song, Red. I don't own her nor the rights to her song. And while Taylor's is written from a woman's point of view, since she wrote it, I can see a man singing the same song and relating.

Hope you all enjoy my story as well as Danii's. She's up to three chapters. Hope to have chapter 2 up by tomorrow morning, US time.

Thank you for reading.

. . .

Chapter 1

Loving him (her) is like driving a new Maserati down a dead-end street" Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ended so suddenly. Loving him (her) is like trying to change your mind once you're already flying through the free fall, like the colors in autumn so bright just before they lose it all.

It was supposed to be a one night thing. He told himself he could handle one night with her and then let go – that he just needed to know how it felt to be with her. To hold her. To kiss her. To love her.

But it didn't happen that way. One night turned into one weekend. Then one week. Soon it was a month and before he knew it, it had been a year.

He had to end it. He couldn't. Wouldn't. Not with her.

He knew she was expecting him. He could see it. A day that should have been spent with each other – doing nothing and everything in her apartment. A day that would have been theirs and theirs alone. But he couldn't. And now all he could see was what she was probably doing. He could see her not crying, not eating, not sleeping.

He felt like shit about what he did. Knowing her she was probably doing everything in her power to distract herself – to forget the hurt and anger – to just lose herself in numbness. And just like him, failing miserably.

He kept flashing back to that moment when he made the call. COWARD. He couldn't even tell her in person. Instead he had called when he knew she would be out or asleep and left a message.

"Olivia, it's Elliot. I can't. I'm sorry."

That was it. The before he could say anything else that may give her hope, he hung up.

Later that night, when he was supposed to be in bed with her, even though it was his choice, memories of her assailed every fiber of his being. And finally he allowed a tear to fall.

Remembering him(her) comes in flashbacks and echoes. Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go. But moving on from him (her) is impossible when I still see it all in my head burning red.

. . .

To be continued….

Thank you for reading again and please do review here and on Twitter: Jo_Bautista