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It was 2am- maybe 3. If Ellie summoned the strength to look away from the white stucco ceiling, in its odd, swirly pattern, she could check. The ticking of a clock wasn’t far away- not the one mounted on the wall, that one was out of battery.
Probably on the bedside table- the side that wasn’t hers.
Her and Hardy arrived after working late. She’d peeled her coat off and kicked off her shoes, then headed up to her bedroom and collapsed horizontally onto her bed, fully dressed. Not a word exchanged, Alec had joined her, lying across the other side, long legs draping off the end.
He had a home, of course, but his double glazing was shit and in need of replacing. So they went to her’s.
They lay in silence, Hardy resting his eyes. Ellie would’ve probably gone to sleep, but between her eyes feeling too tired to close and the nagging voice saying she at least had to remove her blazer, she clung to consciousness.
It was like a grim reflection of the sleepovers she sometimes had growing up.
“Tea?” Hardy offered, finally breaking the quiet.
Ellie considered for a moment, “Not if you’re making it.”
Ellie’d seen him make tea round the office. She thinks she can be excused for that one.
Alec makes a quiet noise of protest,
“Drink, then?”
“Water would be good.”
He pushes himself upright, the movement slow. She tilts her head upwards to see him slightly overbalance as he stands,
“Thanks,” she calls after him.
Dropping her head back onto the mattress, Ellie resumes watching the ceiling. The bobble of her ponytail digs into the back of her head and she has a vague thought about pulling it out before dismissing it.
She’ll get round to it at some point, probably.
She lets her eyes close, focusing on the feel of her own breathing. Her back aches in protest against the mattress and she can’t tell if it’s in a way that’s helping or making it worse. Ellie is about to let herself sink deeper into her trance, when Alec finally lumbers back into the room- glass of water in one hand and steaming mug in the next.
He places the water on her side’s stand, then reaches out his hand towards her. She accepts, letting him drag her upright, then passing her the water.
She gives him a little smile. He doesn’t return it because he's a moody bastard, but he solemnly nods then moves around the other side of the bed to prop a pillow up against the headboard, curling up his long limbs to hunch with his drink.
Ellie takes a long drink from her glass before wiggling to sit by him, leaning on his shoulder with a sigh.
“English breakfast?”
“Decaf. “
She hums.
They sit, in content silence.
“Hardy?” Ellie pipes up,
“Yeah?”
“D'you remember your first kiss?”
She’s not really sure what dredged up the new topic of conversation. Just something not-work and non-important.
“Yeah,”
Vague. She’s not sure what she expected.
“Well?”
“‘Well’ what?” Hardy answered, accent getting rougher the way it did when the thought he was being asked a stupid question.
“How was it, who was it with?”
“It was with Tess. 'Was good.”
“With Tess?” she stops to consider if she’s ever heard him mention another anyone , “That's a bit boring.”
“Mm,” he didn’t bother refuting her comment, “Met at uni. Never really dated anyone before that. Never really interested.”
Ellie hummed in response.
She’s only seen or heard of Alec going on one date his whole time in Broadchurch, it’d obviously been a mortifying ordeal. There hadn’t been a second one, or any others, despite how Daisy occasionally decided to nag him on it.
She can’t imagine young Hardy was any less uptight or awkward around dating.
“Well, my first kiss was with Molly Walker,” she confesses. To most people, she would tell them it was Rob Naylor, who lived at the end of her road, but Molly technically came first.
“-'Wanted to practice kissing because she had a big date with Ian Brooks,” Ellie explains, “I liked her. I liked her a lot. I thought about her all the time. I don't think she thought of me at all,”
Molly was just another one of the girls in Ellie’s year at school. She was tall and a bit willowy and she used to steal her mum’s perfume to feel more grown up. And Ellie was a bit obsessed with her. She liked how Molly stood a little taller than her so she had to look up a bit when they spoke. She liked attending the netball games to see Molly play, because she was cool and sporty and told Ellie what the different containers of makeup she stole from her mum were used for.
She’d be jealous of Molly’s sleek, straight hair, and how she could style it into all sorts of grown-up hairstyles Ellie still can’t wrap her brain around today.
“It was thrilling at the time,” she smiles, thinking back to her ridiculous, fumbling younger self, “something secret and stupid we weren't supposed to do.“
She shakes her head a little at the absurdity of it. She was always so excited to spend time with Molly, and the girl's own nonchalance had amped up her own awkwardness. It makes Ellie cringe to think about, but over the years, it’d become something a little mellower, something to laugh at.
“It's not stupid.” Alec responds, pulling her out of her thoughts,
“Huh?”
“'S not stupid, not to you. It meant something.”
Ellie says nothing. She’d only ever mentioned that to Joe (which she tries to avoid thinking about), who’d been quick to laugh at her little obsession with her.
She's never not dismissed it before.
She doesn’t know what she’d expected from Hardy. Maybe not this.
Funnily enough, it makes emotion well up in her chest. Feels like a weight off her shoulders in a way she never noticed before.
“...Thanks Hardy,” Ellie says when she regains enough control not to burst into tears when she tries to speak, “You're not always as shit as this as you seem.”
He lets out a quiet chuckle.
“I loved Tess, you know,” he says in turn, “Still love her.
...I don't think I loved her the right way, though. I think she could tell- probably why it never lasted. I hear people talking about "butterflies" and finding "the one" and that. And I dunno what they’re on about. I've never felt anything like that.”
Ellie takes a deep breath, mulling over what he told her. It’s a bit bleak. She’s not sure what she should offer to comfort him.
“-Probably something wrong with me,” Alec muses with a chuckle that makes her frown.
She doesn’t like him saying that, doesn’t like the casual way in which he says it. It makes thoughts and emotions stir in her chest that she struggles to pick out, instead bubbling into some form of indignation,
“"The right way?"” she scoffs with a burst of newfound energy, “What does that even mean?”
Alec groans, shifting in his spot and stretching out his shoulders, “Dunno,” he whines, drawing out the word in a frustrated huff,
“Sod that. I like you and you like me, right?”
“Well, yeah-”
“Then that should be enough!” she argues, trying to untwist the feeling of what- grief? - she has on behalf of her friend, ""The right way,"" she mocks, “There isn't a wrong way to love! Fuck that! And if she made you feel that way fuck Tess!”
“Miller.”
Alec hates it when she talks bad of his ex, but fuck! She deserves it sometimes. It isn’t like she’s some kind of monster, but Hardy’s besotted with her still.
And if he won’t do it, someone else needs to.
“No- I'm sorry, Hardy, that- that isn't on. You shouldn't feel that way. No one should make you feel that way.”
“...'suppose,” he mumbles, sagging a little further into the pillow.
Ellie swaps out her tactic,
“There's a lot wrong with you, Hardy. This isn't one of 'em,” she says with a sigh, gentler this time.
She drops back onto Alec’s shoulder. They should sleep soon
“...Thanks Miller,” they’d faded back into mutual silence, sipping their drinks till Hardy spoke up again.
“...love you,” he mumbles,
“You love me!” Ellie gushes, springing up to look at him, “Aww, Hardy!!” she squeals with delight, massive grin on her face- half affection, half relishing the way he grumbles and squirms at her scrutiny,
“Don't make a big thing of it.” He spits, refusing to look in her direction.
“Oh, I love you too Hardy,” she chirps, giving an affectionate nudge with her elbow.
He gives her a sharp, disgusted glare, “Stop smiling.”
She smiles harder.