A/N: I have like a weird little soft spot for this ship. I like to call it Holive. Anyway, I like how it gives me the opportunity to portray Hattie in an unsympathetic light. I usually give her a little glimmer of redemption. But with Olive, I don't. Olive is young and naïve and confused and she doesn't understand what she's feeling for Hattie. She doesn't understand how her and Ella work. She doesn't understand her emotions about anything, and her admiration for Hattie is projecting itself as an intimate sort of thing. It just sounds very Olive to me. And Hattie is being Hattie, and using it and teasing it and making Olive feel bad. This has a second chapter in the works, so be patient. Enjoy.

Olive likes to watch her. It's as innocent as can be, she thinks while her eyes practically glue themselves to her sister's form. She would stare and her eyes would follow every movement, every slight action. Contrary to popular belief, Olive was very attentive. When one has nothing else to do but stare...

Olive did suppose sometimes that she had other options in regards to entertainment, but her older sister was proving to be all the entertainment she would ever need.

It had been that way for as long as she could remember.

Ever since she was old enough to register sights and sounds with a degree of comprehension, her eyes had been on Hattie. Hattie was obviously their mother's favorite-pampered and adored and loved to the point of an overdose. Olive, on the other hand...Olive kept to herself. She was never particularly fond of the high-society lifestyle her mother and sister lived in. Granted, she liked the money and the expensive food and the clothes, but it was far too much work to keep up perfect appearance 24/7.

So, instead Olive just watched. She stared and she admired. She watched Hattie grow and didn't really pay much attention to herself. Instead, she gave all of her attention to Hattie. Whether or not her sister noticed, that was debatable. But Olive wished she did, hoped she did. It was almost like she needed it, and she could never understand why.

Olive was never very smart, and she admitted it. She struggled with pretty much everything. Hattie was the opposite. She understood, she got things, and could actually carry herself without stumbling. She was sure her sister had her faults, but she didn't notice them. Not then, not now, not ever. And she didn't think she ever would, because admitting that Hattie had faults would be like admitting like Jesus was basically human. It would break the image of divinity, and Olive just couldn't have that.

Hattie was beautiful, Olive thought, watching as a maid tied her sister's corset.

The skin of her back was wonderfully pale, and Olive fleetingly considered touching it. Reaching out, and running her fingertips along the flesh and shuddering at how warm she must be. Hattie never hugged her sister-it was such a rare occurrence that Olive proffered to pretend that it just never happened. Because the truth was, it hurt to realize just how little it did happen.

Olive's eyes continued to burn holes into Hattie's back, and she briefly considered bolting out of the room, because the burning that was starting to overcome her was just becoming far too much to handle. She didn't understand this, and she didn't think she really wanted to.

"Olive," Hattie spoke, and god, the sound made Olive's ears ring. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it was certainly enough to make her want to groan.

"Yes?" Olive's voice was low and tense, and she tried to clear her throat and make the little lump that was steadily rising in it go away.

"Do you like this dress, sister-dear?"

Olive didn't like it when Hattie called her that.

It made her feel...weird.

"Um...I like it just fine. It's pretty."

It was so much more than pretty. It was gorgeous and perfect and the way the dark red flushed against Hattie's skin made Olive's face tinge pink. She wondered if Hattie noticed it. She really hoped she didn't.

"Are you sure...?" Hattie crossed the room, and sat beside her sister. Their shoulders touched-just for a second, but the contact was already making Olive sweat.

"I have a purple one, too..."

"I-I-I like the um the red one..." Olive felt her face go red.

"You do?"

Hattie was too close. Olive didn't like it. Didn't want it. Wanted it. Didn't...why was her face coming so close...sisters...isn't this supposed to be...why...

"You should get dressed, too." Hattie's mouth was an inch away from Olive's and the younger sister's mind was reeling and hurting and even though Olive could never figure out much, she had a strange feeling-a stabbing ache in her gut that her sister knew.

"I...yes..." Olive didn't want to speak. She wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there and wait for ogres to come and eat her.

Hattie's breath smelled like peppermint and tea, and Olive was trying hard to forget about it.

Hattie's lips then curled into a smirk as Olive's breath caught in her throat.

Olive wanted to kiss her sister, and her sister knew it.