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Eventually, she stood and made her way to the bar. Joe was cleaning glasses and approached her slowly with a kindly smile.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a glass of white wine please, Joe.”
He poured her a cold glass of the house white and after leaving a generous tip she returned to her table. The wine was the last thing that she wanted but there was some strange compulsion to always raise a glass to her brother on this day. Each year she had done it and each year she had felt utterly sick at the thought of finishing her drink. This year there was the added confusion and frustration of what had just transpired between her and Callie.
A few days ago she would have relished the thought of melting into Callie’s arms and have her look at her the way she did in that moment. It had been so long since she’d seen that softness and affection in Callie’s eyes directed toward her. But today was the worst possible day that it could have happened. She was in no state to objectively assess what had motivated Callie’s actions. Pity? Friendship? Or was it that she still loved her? Arizona’s mind was occupied by one thing; the pure, simple joy she had felt to be enveloped in those strong arms and to feel dizzy with the warmth and scent of Callie’s proximity.
She toyed with the base of her wine glass and considered leaving to wallow privately in the depths of her bed clothes. At least then the prying eyes of hospital employees wouldn’t be silently judging her for drinking alone at four on a weekday. She hated being this pitied figure. Her brother would have hated it too and normally she lived life with almost nauseating positivity, partly in his honour. But on this day each year she had always allowed a bit of sadness and grief to be visible on the exterior.
Suddenly her phone vibrated in her pocket and snapped her from her reverie. She flipped it open and to her great surprise the name she had so longed to see flashed across the screen. For a moment she considered deleting it immediately; she felt a curious anger toward Callie. Where had this contact been over the last few months when she had pleaded and reasoned and cried more than she would care to admit? But she inevitably opened the message and read the few words Callie had sent.
Hey, I hope you’re O.K? I have a half an hour of paper work left to do then I’m free. If you need (or want?) my company tonight I’m here. Let me know, Cal xx
Arizona did want her company, very much. But she shut the phone and stuffed it back into her pocket without reply nonetheless. Finally, the wine sitting before her began to look appetising and she gratefully took a large sip. She finished the glass in very little time and sat for a while.
When Callie entered the bar, Arizona was oblivious to everyone and everything around her. She’d only had two medium sized glasses of wine but had relaxed enough to be lost deep within her own thoughts. Callie watched her for a few moments before heading to the bar to speak with Joe.
She approached the table and placed two bottles of beer in front of Arizona. The blonde still didn’t react for a few moments, as if she were on some kind of delay. Suddenly, she looked up and noticed that Callie was sliding into the seat opposite her. She raised her brows and glanced at the beer that Callie slid toward her before offering a quiet ‘hey’.
“Hey,” Callie replied. “Remember these?” She picked up her bottle and took a reluctant sip of dark liquid, screwing up her nose as she did so.
“How this could possibly be his favourite is beyond me. How could it be anyone’s favourite?!”
When Arizona didn’t speak and simply stared at the offering Callie had brought, the brunette continued filling the silence.
“I had a hunch that Joe probably hadn’t sold many of these since you ordered that crate last year!”
Arizona’s expression remained unchanged. She pushed the brown ale aside and frowned. “Of course he hasn’t sold any. It’s gross.” She exhaled deeply and looked directly at Callie. “Why are you here? I didn’t reply to your text for a reason.”
Callie took another sip of the ale before answering; she didn’t want to snap back. She understood why Arizona was behaving like this today and she was determined to be there for her.
“I didn’t know you’d be here. I just came in to have a drink with a couple of the orthopaedic staff. One of the nurses is 30 today. Or she had a baby. Or maybe she’s leaving?.. I’m not sure but we’re drinking.”
Arizona nodded slowly, tired and unenthused at the idea of an argument. “I just need to be alone, Calliope. I’m gonna leave, let you get on with celebrating.” She began gathering her stuff.
“Don’t go, Arizona,” she asked simply. “I don’t even want to go to this thing tonight. I’m here and I want to be there for you. We had a good time last year, right? We drank this disgusting beer and you told me goofy stories about your brother. I’m here if you want to do it again.”
Arizona continued to gather her things. After she’d pulled on her jacket she stood still and faced Callie head on. “I had such a good night last year, which was so unexpected. We actually laughed and I felt like I really celebrated his life which is exactly why I do this drinking to him thing each year, you know?”
Callie nodded, feeling somewhat hopeful.
“And when we went home you let me cry and you just hugged me close and everything was terrible but everything was also fine.” She was talking really quickly now and her voice wavered slightly. “And now you’re here and you’re offering to be with me through all of this again and... and it’s so tempting. But things aren’t the same, Callie. We’re not together anymore and I can’t let myself get used to having you here to help me with this.” She screwed her eyes shut and brushed a stray curl behind her ear.
“You might be free tonight and you might even be able to support me next year and the year after that but... Eventually there’s going to be things that are more important to you. Other places, new jobs... other people.” She almost cringed at the implication of her own words.
Callie fought the urge to tell Arizona that she did see herself there year after year and that she could offer her that longevity of support that she wanted and needed. This evening, however, was not the time for emotional outbursts and grand declarations. Arizona was vulnerable and Callie heavily influenced by the tears gathering in her impossibly blue eyes. And so she just nodded and allowed Arizona to grab her bag and swiftly leave the bar. She watched Arizona dodge a few customers and slip lithely through the doors, her wispy blonde curls the last thing she saw blowing in the light spring breeze.
Sitting down heavily on the couch behind her, she pushed the button to make her least favourite call of the year.
“Hey Mom,” she began cheerily. “Sorry I’m late in calling, I had a surgery that got a little complicated.”
“That’s O.K honey,” her mother replied. “Was it O.K in the end?”
“Yeah, we got her back and she’s doing well now. How are you?”
“That’s good news. I’m O.K, sweetie,” the sadness in her mother’s voice broke Arizona’s heart. “In some ways it gets easier every year.”
“And in other ways?” Arizona quizzed.
“In other ways it’s still as raw...”
“I know,” Arizona felt tears prick dangerously at the back of her eyes and pressed her fingers hard into the sockets to keep them at bay. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get back for today. I tried to clear my schedule but I’m still on thin ice with the chief after Malawi ...”
“Hey, it’s O.K. I know how hard you work. Nothing’s even going on here today so you’re not missing much. Your father and I went to visit the grave this morning and he’s spending the day being thoroughly surly so I’m just doing a little reading and cooking to keep my mind occupied.”
Arizona smiled and a comfortable but weighted silence fell between the two for a few moments. She allowed her head to rest on the back of the sofa and closed her eyes.
“Do you have any good news for me that might help put a smile back on my face today?” Through the deep sadness Arizona could detect the mischief in her mother’s voice.
“Mom,” she said reproachfully. “If you’re talking about Calliope then I’ve told you a hundred times that it’s not happening.”
“I know but I was just thinking that it would be great to have some good news today.”
Arizona couldn’t agree more and wished both for herself and her mother that she and Callie might have reconciled by now. No such indication had been offered by the orthopod, however.
“Mom,” she lifted her head from the back of the couch and grabbed at the corner of a cushion, worrying its frayed edge. “I’ve started to accept that it’s not going to happen. She’s happy and I made my bed so it’d be better if you started to get used to it, O.K?”
Arizona stared forlornly at the ragged cushion on her lap and folded a leg beneath her. Her mother’s silence on the other end of the line concerned her.
“I’m sorry, mom,” she almost whispered. “I know how much you hoped we’d...”
“No, it’s O.K sweetie. I shouldn’t pressure you like this. It’s just nice to think of something happy today, something good. You sound tired, are you heading home soon?”
Before she could answer, the door to the locker room swung open and Callie walked in, attention firmly on the cell phone in her hands. When she noticed Arizona she made an apologetic gesture and signed that she could leave. Arizona shook her head firmly and mouthed that she was almost done so Callie proceeded to the coffee pot to grab a cup.
“Uhh, yeah Mom, I am kinda beat but I’m gonna raise a glass before I head home, like I always do today. Will you be O.K?”
“I’ll be fine, sweetie. Get some good rest and call me soon, O.K?”
“Sure,” Arizona assured her. “Tell Dad hey from me. He’ll be O.K you know, Mom; he’ll be back to himself tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I love you. G’bye.”
Her mother rang off and Arizona brought the phone to her lap, wiping a smudge from the screen with her thumb.
“Everything O.K?” Callie’s question broke the silence and served to remind Arizona that she wasn’t alone in the room.
“Ye, I’m good,” she said without looking in Callie’s direction. Though Callie wasn’t buying her act at all. “Just a little tired.”
“Was that your Mom?” Callie asked as she joined Arizona on the couch, handing her a cup of coffee. Arizona nodded in confirmation. “How is she?” asked Callie.
“Thanks,” she said on taking the steaming mug from her. “She’s O.K. And she says hey.”
Callie smiled sadly and a moment of awkward silence fell between the two. She didn’t quite know where to look until she caught sight of Arizona’s forlorn expression and felt a rush of emotion and a deep desire to erase whatever was causing it.
“You’re not O.K,” she said simply. Arizona’s features almost crumbled before her eyes and a grunt of frustration escaped her lips as she placed the coffee cup down and wiped a tear roughly from her cheek.
“No really, I’m fine,” she insisted as she stood and returned to her locker. “Just a long day. I need to sleep and get something proper to eat and I’ll be good.” Her voice wavered throughout but she managed to finish the sentence and began to gather her things from her locker. Before she knew it Callie was standing breathtakingly close behind her and had placed a hand on her shoulder; she gently turned her, the expression on her face looking earnestly and expectantly for answers.
Arizona maintained eye contact for a few short seconds before her head dropped despondently toward her chest.
“Arizona?” Callie whispered in concern.
“My brother,” she said simply. “It’s ten years today.”
Callie didn’t hesitate in pulling Arizona toward her. She wrapped her tightly in her arms and stroked her hair reassuringly. After a few moments of hesitancy, Arizona gave in to the embrace and slid her arms appreciatively around Callie’s neck. She clung on as if for dear life. Her tears ran freely into the material of Callie’s scrubs as they stood there silently for a long period. It felt so great that Arizona couldn’t let go. If ever she had needed this comfort and these arms, it was now.
After a few minutes of holding her tightly the heaving sobs had stopped and Callie pulled back a little. “You O.K?” she asked tentatively.
Arizona’s reddened, tear-stained face emerged from the crook of Callie’s neck. She looked embarrassed and wiped at her face with the back of her hand.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, touching the wet patch on Callie’s scrubs and screwing up her nose. “That’s kinda gross.”
Callie laughed and shrugged it off. “This coming from the woman who combed chunks of vomit out of my hair? It’s fine, really.”
They laughed quietly and looked at each other almost sadly. Callie placed her hand around Arizona’s upper arm and squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry I didn’t remember it was today, I should have been here for you.” The warmth of Callie’s touch permeated her skin and she very nearly tucked herself back into the inviting crook of her neck. Instead, she twisted her arm free and stepped away.
“You don’t have that kind of obligation toward me anymore, Callie. There’s no reason why you should have remembered.”
Callie looked very hurt and took a step away from the blonde. “I never felt like it was an obligation to take care of you when you needed me, Arizona,” she said quietly. “I still don’t.”
Arizona regretted her words and her harsh tone. She exhaled deeply and leaned a shoulder against the bank of lockers.
“I’m sorry,” she offered. “I didn’t mean that. I shouldn’t... I mean I... I need to go”
“It’s O.K,” Callie interrupted her. “Where are you heading? Do you need a ride home?”
She shook her head and began gathering her things. “No, thank you. I always have a drink on the anniversary of...” she swallowed hard and shook her head. “Today, I always have a drink today. To remember.”
“Ye, I know,” said Callie. “I remember, last year at Joe’s we ordered his favourite beer and it was so gross we had to wash it down with tequila. I remember.”
She watched Arizona put her coat on and helped her find all the bits and bobs she needed. “Can I go with you?” She handed her a scarf that had fallen from her locker. “I’ll be done in an hour and...”
“No,” Arizona cut in. “Thank you but I need to do this by myself.”
She moved toward the door before turning back to face Callie again. “Thanks for the shoulder,” she said quietly. “I’ll see you around.”
At four on Christmas Eve her surgeries ended. And by virtue of working in such close proximity she knew that Arizona was done too. Knowing her so well, she had deduced correctly that the older surgeon would be ensuring she’d left a card in each attending’s locker before leaving.
Callie approached gingerly and smiled, a little tightly, as Arizona noticed her presence in the locker room.
“Hey,” Arizona said warily. “I’m just leaving so I’ll be out of your hair in two secs.” Arizona looked sheepish and seemed to be desperately avoiding the possibility of another confrontation. Not at Christmas, she thought hopefully.
“O.K,” said Callie, “but I was hoping maybe you’d stick around long enough to accept this.” She placed a small potted plant on the bench between them. Arizona eyed it, and Callie, sceptically. It was adorned with a simple red bow, no card accompanied the gift and Callie simply watched as Arizona looked back and forth between the two.
“It’s a Christmas gift,” she eventually offered an explanation. “I thought it might brighten your new place up a little. Though I’m sure it probably doesn’t need brightening at all.” The corners of both their lips curved into barely visible smiles at this.
Arizona half inhaled, making her shining newly-glossed lips form a pouted ‘o’ shape for a few moments before she spoke.
“You’re giving me an olive tree?”
That was all she could think to say. Callie smiled and raised her brows, nodding slowly.
“An olive... branch, if you will.”
Arizona pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and exhaled some significant tension. She smiled rather sadly at Callie.
“Thank you... I didn’t get anything for you. I’m sorry, I didn’t think...”
“It’s O.K,” Callie interrupted as she gestured toward the gift. “You were right to think this unlikely.”
Arizona moved toward the bench and extended a hand to touch the small green leaves. She sat down beside it and for a while seemed lost, deep in thought elsewhere. She was only snapped back to the reality of the present moment when Callie sat herself on the other side of the plant.
“It’ll go nicely in my new place,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
Arizona studied Callie’s quiet nod and calm features and seemed to want to say something else. She half opened her mouth to speak a few times but nothing came out. It was beginning to feel a little awkward.
“You O.K?” Callie eventually broke the silence. Arizona nodded and her blonde curls bobbed furiously. “I’m fine,” she replied. But the furrowed brow and gaze that roamed absently over the gift sitting between them betrayed her.
“I’m just wondering what it means,” she said quietly.
Callie looked at her and shrugged her shoulders a little. She joined Arizona in staring absently at the plant for a few moments.
“It’s an olive tree, Arizona. It means I’m trying to make peace with you... With the situation.”
“And that’s it?” She hadn’t meant to sound harsh but it had come out that way and now she seemed ungrateful and Callie looked hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she added quickly. “I just meant... I guess I just hoped...” She sighed deeply and shut her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry; my manners went right out the window there. It’s a really nice gift, Callie. I’m sorry.” Their eyes met for a few moments and a great sadness was communicated between them.
“It’s a peace offering,” said Callie, “because I don’t want to fight anymore...”
Arizona looked hopefully toward the brunette; newly bobbed hair grazing the leather of her jacket and dark eyes piercing, as always, any resolve Arizona might have had to retain a grip on her emotions.
“Because the thing is... I’m actually O.K.” Arizona looked confused. Callie continued cautiously. “Before you came back and started working here again. Before I saw you in the hallway pretty much every day and you were all the way over in Malawi, I was actually O.K.” Arizona looked deeply hurt.
“And I’m not saying this to cause you pain or anything like that. I just want you to know that I don’t want to live with all this anger and tension. I spent a long time after you left wallowing.” She averted her eyes, almost embarrassed at the revelation. “I cried and I got mad and I did stupid things. There’s no point trying to pretend that I don’t care or that I don’t miss you... so much. Obviously I do.” Callie paused for a moment and fought the desire to act on that longing she had to feel familiar arms wrapped around her.
“But this is so not the first time I’ve been broken-hearted.” Callie hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to be this honest with Arizona. She looked in pain, but Callie needed to continue. “And, you know, you live and learn. And I was picking myself up. Slowly, I grant you, but this time I was picking myself up. I wasn’t waiting around for someone to come along and fix me; I’ve learnt the long and hard way that it doesn’t work like that. And... suddenly you’re back and I’m seeing you every day, so I got mad and I yelled a lot and I’m losing a lot of the fixing myself that I’ve already done. I don’t want that. I want to carry on being O.K and to carry on fixing and give myself the chance to move on. So that means no more yelling and no turning the other way when I see you in the hallway and having adult conversations.” Her eyes darted toward the plant between them. “And olive trees, apparently!”
There were very obvious, almost cartoon-like droplets of moisture collecting in the corners of Arizona’s eyes by now. She nodded, considering Callie’s words.
“So it’s definitely not an ‘I still love you and I want to give you another chance olive tree?’” She was joking, but the large droplet that trickled down her cheek as she blinked betrayed the genuine sentiment behind the question.
Callie was fighting emotion herself as she shook her head quietly. “I’m sorry.”
Arizona stood and picked up the gift. She tucked it under her arm and walked around the bench. On passing Callie she paused briefly and bent to kiss the top of her head before leaving the room without looking back.
“Have you really never been before?!” Arizona yelled over the buzz that consumed the streets.
Callie shook her head as she dodged a recklessly waving flag and chuckled as she grabbed Arizona’s hand for guidance through the crowds.
“No,” she confirmed. “I went to one in New York with my buddy from med school when he was just coming out and it was awesome, but the Seattle one has always just kind of passed me by.”
Arizona turned on her heel and rolled her eyes at the woman behind her, almost causing a ten deep pile-up in the crowds. “I don’t care who you were or were not dating, Calliope, how can this pass you by?!”
She gestured to the vibrant floats that passed by with men dressed in heels bigger than anything either of them had ever worn, dancing with abandon to some classic 90’s europop.
“I just love it,” she almost vibrated with the excitement. “It’s so full of joy and acceptance and everyone just wants to be allowed to love each other, you know? It feels like the most positive thing in the world!”
Callie smiled broadly at her and grabbed her around the waist. “You’re very cute at pride, you know that right?”
“I’m very cute all the time,” she threw back playfully and they both giggled their way into a kiss.
Several onlookers good-naturedly whooped at their display of affection and the two bashfully pulled apart and continued to hold on to each other through the crowd.
“Can we head toward the stalls?” Arizona had to yell a little less now that they were away from the very centre of parade action.
“Sure,” replied Callie.
“My friend Jenny makes the most beautiful jewellery and I want you to see it so you can buy me some for my next birthday,” she shrugged her shoulders, “or, you know, Christmas, Valentines... Tuesdays!”
“Oh, O.K!” Callie nodded her understanding and fell into step beside Arizona. The warm June sun warmed their backs as they walked to the area filled with endless stalls and food vendors, their hands gently linked.
“Hey, and you know what Jenny tells me is the stall right next to hers this year?” Arizona asked quietly.
“Nope,” said Callie distractedly, her attention captured by the enthusiastic troupe of dancers spinning on their heads nearby.
“Lesbian and bisexual Moms of Seattle,” Arizona ventured carefully.
Callie stopped in her tracks and turned to face her girlfriend, her eyes wide and questioning.
“Aaand?” she questioned carefully.
“And I thought we could check it out. Talk to a few people.”
Callie started to dance on her toes and make unintelligible but obviously excited sounds as she grasped both of Arizona’s hands.
“Are you serious?” she asked. “I-I-I mean, I meant what I said, I meant it. I want you more than anything else, b-b-but if you’re thinking about it then that’s, I mean that’s really grea...”
“Calliope,” Arizona interrupted. “You do know we’re just going to a stall, right? And that they don’t give away babies there as a prize on the tombola. O.K?”
Callie rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh.
“I know,” she nodded thoughtfully. “I’m just... you just make me so happy.”
“Good!” Arizona beamed at her. “Now about that jewellery!”
Like a thick fog rolling slowly from the sea, fatigue settled heavily across Arizona’s chest and weighed her eyelids almost to closing. It was too much for coherent thought to be generated but her emotions were undeterred and remained razor sharp. She felt the couch beside her sink under the weight of her girlfriend and fought to open her eyes again.
“Tired?” Asked Callie.
Arizona nodded and felt a sudden hot burning behind her eyes. She turned her head to prevent Callie from seeing the first tear breach her usually steely barriers and roll down her cheek.
“Hey hey hey!” the brunette quickly scooted closer and turned Arizona’s head to face her. “Come here,” she insisted by pulling her close. “Is it just today?”
Arizona nodded and swallowed a small sob. “It’s just everything,” she pushed her face into Callie’s neck. “People are dead... we could have died. And now you’re here.” She pulled away and looked into Callie’s eyes before resting their foreheads together. “You’re here again and you haven’t been for too long. I just... it’s everything.”
Callie leaned back against the arm of the couch and pulled Arizona to her chest. She cocooned her in her long legs and soothed her weary body with soft caresses and calming words.
“Too long,” Callie agreed. “I don’t want that to happen again, Arizona.”
The air was muggy and still as they sat there, lost in their own thoughts but grounded in each other’s embrace. It was enough to make them both drift into a quiet slumber that was disturbed only when Callie jumped in that earliest stage of sleep and caused both their heads to snap up, immediately alert. They sighed wearily and half laughed, half despaired at their reaction.
“I guess we’re both kinda on edge, huh?” Arizona suggested. She stood and offered her hand, guiding Callie into her bedroom. “I think we need to sleep for a long time and then eat a lot of fried food and drink a lot of coffee... if that sounds good?”
Callie snorted a short burst of laughter and quickly stripped down to her boy shorts as Arizona found the first pair of PJ’s under her pillows.
“Are they mine?” Callie asked. “You never moved them... tossed them in the laundry?”
Arizona kneeled on the bed as she pulled the shirt over her head and brought a fistful of the material to her face. “They smell like... Callie,” she closed her eyes as she inhaled. “I wouldn’t have slept at all without them.”
Callie mirrored Arizona’s position on the bed and stroked her hair softly. Their arms slid gently around the others back as they held on in a tight embrace, Callie’s naked torso pressed firmly to the fabric of her own pyjamas. They slid, largely from utter exhaustion, into a lying position and remained closely entwined.
“We probably need to talk, right?” Arizona said, her tone philosophical.
“We do,” replied Callie. But right now I really just want to be here, like this.” She ran her fingers lightly across Arizona’s back. “I just want to remember how soft the skin is right here in the curve of your spine.” Arizona sighed heavily. “I want to remember how great your shampoo smells and look at you for as long as my eyes will stay open just to see how peaceful your face looks when you relax in sleep. And I want to lose the feeling in my arm and get a crick in my neck but not move an inch because I can’t bear to wake you. Arizona...” she whispered. “I love you so much.”
The blonde smiled broadly and burrowed further into the warm arms encircling her. “Me too,” she said. “Me too.”
ARIZONA: I’m so tired that I can feel it in my marrow. The day is passing me by as though I’m watching everything on a mute television. People talk to me and I reply gaily, they page me and I consult; nothing breaches anything but the very periphery of my mind. The remnant of feeling her arms around me is enough to drag me through the day, for now.
Bailey is speaking to me as I prepare to administer the medication to my new five year old patient; after a throng of confusing symptoms we are now sure in our diagnosis of diabetes. I remove the cap of the hypodermic needle and move to insert it into the line already placed.
“Dr. Robbins!” I hear Bailey call forcefully and realise she’s been saying my name repeatedly for some time. I halt and look up at her with a furrowed brow.
“You’re about to administer an adult dose,” she hissed, “that’s ten times what she should get, it’ll kill her!” She places her hand over mine and gently extricates the syringe. “Go,” she says simply and I leave the room as I feel the blood drain all colour from my features.
CALLIE: I find her immediately because as much as she tries to conceal herself from me, I know her inside out. She’s not a person of faith at all but is often found in the hospital chapel; it’s the peace that she likes and the fact that nobody questions tears in here. She’s sitting on the floor out of sight around the side of the pews, her back resting against one of their sturdy planks. I sit quietly in front of her and she draws her knees closer to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around her own shins. Her hands are shaking.
“Bailey found me,” I say simply and quietly. She’s removed her wheelies and I lightly caress the top of her foot, her pink socks drawing a smile from my lips, despite everything.
Suddenly she looks at me, directly into my eyes, and holds the gaze. It’s surprising because it’s been so long since she’s done so, and shocking because her own are brimming with tears and deeply sunken in ashen features. “I could have killed her,” she chokes out and droplets trickle freely down her cheeks.
“Arizona,” I speak her name softly, “you didn’t do anything; we all make mistakes, doctors are fallible, no matter how careful we are.”
She screws her eyes shut against her pain and I feel the image brand my heart. “I wasn’t careful,” her voice is strangled and laced with her anguish. “I wasn’t even in that room, Callie.” She looks at me as though her inner dialogue is violently battling with itself. “I wasn’t there... I... Cal.” My name is a plea from her lips as her whole body seems to fold and crumble; I shift to her side and take her in my arms.
After several minutes of cradling and sobbing and silence, I speak carefully. “I think you need to talk Arizona. Not with me; well, eventually with me, I hope. But for now with... someone else.”
I feel her nod her head against my chest and exhale deeply. “I know,” she raises her head to look at me again, her hands grasping the material of my scrub top. “I really think I need to.”
ARIZONA: I sit on the sofa; legs curled beneath me, and gratefully accept the steaming mug of tea she hands over the back to me. She brings her own mug around the side of the sofa with her and taps at my shoulder to indicate she wants to slot in behind me. She encourages me to settle back against her chest and squeezes me gently with her thighs, wrapping me up with her entire body. Her hand snakes around my stomach and I feel a chin rest against my head.
She hasn’t asked me one question about my session with Dr. Wyatt and I’m grateful. I feel a little better; the pressure has at least been somewhat released but I know that we didn’t even touch on the root cause, that will take much, much longer. I can’t express how much I love being wrapped in her arms, I just hope she understands when I cuddle back into her and take her hand, stroking gently. “I can’t tell you now,” I say quietly.
“I know,” she replies and kisses the top of my head. “I don’t need you to. In your own time, I’ll be here.”
“I love you, Callie.” I’ve never meant it more profoundly than in this moment. The next thing I’m conscious of is her taking my mug from me gently and soothing me back to slumber against her warm chest.
CALLIE: I press my lips together almost violently to abate encroaching tears. She’s completely broken in my arms and it’s the shock that brings hot, salty drops to my eyes. This is Arizona Robbins; this is the perky, confident woman who has scraped me from the pavement so many times I can’t even remember. She’s the one whose arms cradle me and whose scrubs absorb my tears, but now she needs me and I’m terrified that I won’t be able to ease the tightness in her chest and soothe the racing tracks of her mind like she does mine.
I’d take the pain from her if I could and that thought shocks me. Because I’ve loved and lost, I know how it feels to have the wind so completely knocked out of your chest that you wonder at how easy it had always seemed to simply breathe. And yet I’d take it on for her; to hear that carefree giggle and see the return of fairy dust and magic to her eyes, I’d take it all.
She’s playing with a delicate silver bracelet that’s fixed around my wrist. She gave it to me a year or so ago and of all the gifts she’s ever bought for me this is the one that’s really stuck. I rarely take it off except during surgery and idly playing with it during moments of quiet reflection has become a habit of both hers and mine. Keeping a hold of my wrist, she flips herself over, nuzzles into my embrace and pulls a blanket from the back of the sofa to cover us.
“Can we put on a really bad movie and stay here all night?” she asks and I feel her lips brush intermittently against the skin of my neck as she speaks.
“Miracle on 34th St?” I offer quickly, so glad that she wants to stay here with me and not run away from her troubles, literally.
“It’s nowhere near Christmas,” she looks up at me with what I think might be a brief grin.
“I know,” I tell her, “but it’s your favourite and I know you secretly have the hots for Elizabeth Perkins in a pant-suit so we can make an exception!”
She nods with what might almost be considered enthusiasm and I search for the movie with the remote. I can tell she’s fighting exhaustion and lasts only until her favourite scene, the kiss by the ice-rink, before falling asleep against my chest. As I hold her tightly and inhale the scent of her hair deeply, I resolve that I will be strong enough to carry her through this. She deserves selflessness and patience on my part; this is being in a relationship. And the funny thing is that for her I don’t mind the rough, though the road may be long and rocky, because the smooth... is exquisite.
Author: oh_nessa
Rating: 15
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me or makes me any profit.
Summary:A continuation of this story of Erica and Lisa. It's ancient now but I found myself with some time snowed in here and preferred fiction to learning cardiology! Hope you guys who are so loyal enjoy :)
Lisa hopped from her car and skipped up the drive. She tried to remain at least outwardly calm but failed miserably as she knocked enthusiastically on the door. When Erica opened it, she smiled widely and swallowed somewhat shyly. They both hesitated briefly before leaning in to kiss. Lisa’s lips hit Erica’s cheek somewhat clumsily. They both stumbled closer and held their hands from roaming immediately, as they instinctively wanted to. Lisa exhaled a small chuckle before gently placing her hands on either side of Erica’s face.
“Hi,” she said, smiling, and softly kissed her lips.
“Hi,” Erica replied. Lisa ran her hands slowly down Erica’s throat and across her shoulders, watching their path as she went. She swallowed and made eye contact again before speaking.
“I’m going to do something that I’ve been thinking about the entire time you were away, O.K?” She swept her fringe from her eyes and looked at Erica through hooded lids.
“O.K,” the blonde whispered faintly, a split second before being pushed carefully but firmly against the wall just inside her front door. Lisa moved in slowly and closed her eyes as she hovered millimetres from Erica’s lips. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and she allowed her warm breath to tickle Erica’s lips. She weaved her hands around the waist before her and kissed Erica deeply, exhaling the tension and excitement that had built over the past few days. She felt warm fingers sweep the hair from her neckline and play with the delicate auburn wisps that lay there.
Lisa pulled back slowly and simply stood for several seconds with her eyes closed, composing herself. Erica watched her, intrigued, and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she waited for Lisa to look at her again. The shorter woman did so with a shy smile and a deep inhalation.
“Did you pack a sweater?” she asked as she grasped Erica’s hands and threaded their fingers together. “It can get a little chilly in the evenings, where we’re headed.”
“Which is where?” Erica asked, narrowing her eyes.
“You’ve asked every time we’ve spoken since you left, you really think I’m going to cave now?”
Erica shook her head, smiled and grabbed the overnight bag beside her. “I brought a sweater.”
Lisa smiled and turned to leave the house, brushing her fingers through her long tresses as she made her way towards the car. Erica watched her as she secured the house; she was excited for the first time since she could truly remember about something other than an open, pulsating chest cavity.
**********************
“Well, you just look at the people in the cars that pass by and you make up a story about their lives.”
Erica looked at her sceptically as she shifted in the passenger seat, now a couple of hours into the journey. “That’s nothing like the car games we played when I was a kid.”
Lisa smiled, flicking her eyes toward Erica for a moment before returning them to the road. “Really?” she said unsurprised. “What did you play?”
“My father and I would play car math,” she said quite seriously. “Working out the speed of certain vehicles and the fraction of different coloured cars on one stretch of highway, things like that.”
Lisa allowed a burst of laughter to escape before resuming a forced look of sobriety once more. “You know, I really have never noticed this social awkwardness you claim afflicts you, but if it really is the case, it makes a lot more sense now!”
“O.K!” Erica feigned offense. “My Dad was a mathematics professor and my mother tended to sleep in the back seat on most long journeys so we had a lot of time on our hands!”
Lisa smiled softly at this small insight into Erica’s life, her history and thus the forces that shaped the woman that sat beside her. “Are your parents still alive?” she asked gently.
“No,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. “I’m adopted and they were quite old when it all went through. My father was the last to go, two years ago.”
Lisa raised her brows slightly. “Adopted?” she asked. “You never mentioned.”
Erica shrugged and blew out her cheeks a little. “Non-issue,” she said genuinely. “They’ve always just been my parents and I was happy, so I give it very little thought, to be honest.”
Lisa nodded and smiled as she saw a small blue sign flapping in the wind, indicating where she should turn off. “We’re almost there,” her face glittered with excitement as she spoke.
“So I can guess now that we’re going to the beach?”
“You’re very shrewd,” Lisa mocked a little. “Since we’ve been following signs for the Cape for the past hour!”
Erica smiled and sighed contentedly. “I love the coast here,” she said. “I didn’t see the ocean until I was fourteen, you know. It kind of scares me,” she admitted with some trepidation. “I’m in awe of it, I guess. It makes me feel that terrifying excitement that can grip you by the guts and make it hard to even breathe, you know what I mean?”
Lisa looked over at her for longer than she should have on the narrow, winding roads. She focused once more before chuckling quietly to herself. “I... yeah, I know exactly what you mean, Erica.”
The blonde smiled slightly to herself but didn’t acknowledge Lisa’s quiet statement at that moment as they were pulling in to a small car park. Erica sat up straight and cocked her head to look at the comfortable looking Inn that stood just meters from the beach.
“Is this where we’re staying?” Erica asked curiously.
“Kind of; it’s just down the way there,” she pointed to a small cabin a little distance from the Inn. “I’ve been coming here for six years, ever since I discovered the place. It’s so beautiful; peaceful,” she smiled widely at Erica and popped her door open. “Well, in my opinion anyway,” she bit her bottom lip as she stepped out of the car and turned back to face the blonde, leaning against the doorframe, “I’ve never brought anyone to argue about it with me before.”
Erica smiled as a warm rush filled her chest. She followed Lisa down the craggy path to the cottage and surveyed their surroundings as she waited for her to find the keys and open the door. The sea was wild before them and the cabin seemed a small inlet of tranquillity in an otherwise ragged yet breathtaking landscape. Erica shivered slightly as she heard the lock click and keenly followed Lisa through the door.
The living room was simply decorated and glowing in the light of a roaring fire in the very centre. Lisa informed Erica that her old friend from the Inn had lit it for them a little while earlier. The red head cocked her head indicating that Erica should follow her with her bag.
“You can set your things down in here,” she waited at the door to a bedroom and shyly tucked her hair behind her ear before picking her own things up and heading down the hallway.
“Lisa?” Erica called after her, brow furrowed. “Where are you going?”
“Uhh,” she stumbled a little. “There’s a room down here too, I’m just putting... I just thought I should...”
Erica’s amused grin stopped her mid-sentence and she exhaled exasperatedly. She tossed her bag on the floor of the hallway and shrugged her shoulders.
“I brought you here to spend more time with you, Erica. To talk and laugh and... I just, I guess I just didn’t want you to think I came here just to... you know!”
Erica walked towards her down the narrow hallway. She picked up the bag that had been cast aside and grabbed Lisa’s hand playfully.
“If you think you’re leaving me alone in this huge bed when it’s cold and the wind is blowing through the cracks in this place, you’re very wrong!”
She pulled playfully on the hand in hers and as they passed the larger room, tossed the bag inside before heading to the small kitchen area. They both laughed and made shy eye contact as Erica sought the bag that held the wine.
“Glass?” she waved the bottle of red in Lisa’s direction and was met by an appreciative nod as she checked the cupboards for glasses.
“I brought a pasta dish for later,” Lisa spoke over her shoulder as she quickly washed the dusty glasses. “It’s just a simple thing that I make for lazy school nights sometimes but it tastes good and means we don’t have to think about food tonight.”
Erica smiled at her warmly as she approached with the glasses and poured the welcome crimson liquid into both. They clinked briefly before sipping appreciatively as they made their way to the oversized and slightly beaten sofa before the fire.
“I like it here,” Erica mused as she sank into the comfortably worn material of the cushions and waited for Lisa to sit beside her. The redhead folded one leg beneath her and lowered herself close by, draping one arm across the back of the sofa.
“Me too,” she smiled nervously as she swept one finger across the pale expanse of Erica’s forearm, “I like being here with you.”
Erica met the sweep of her hand and linked their fingers quietly, swallowing the lump rising rapidly in her throat.
“I never asked how your conference went.” Lisa questioned her quietly as they gravitated towards each other, finding it comfortable and easy to relax into quiet conversation.
“It was... kinda dull,” she shrugged; “I usually love those things, as tragic as that sounds, I thrive on the latest research and it keeps me on my toes, you know? But I think this weekend, my mind was... elsewhere.” She blushed very slightly, the red tinge of her fire-warmed cheeks darkening one slight shade.
Lisa nodded, failed in concealing her grin and held Erica’s gaze. “It’s not tragic to be passionate about your work,” she assured her: “it’s sexy.” She cast her eyes away shyly and laughed at her own words. “O.K, I cannot pull off that kind of talk,” she shook her head in self-deprecation and pulled their entwined hands to cover her eyes.
Erica tugged them away and nudged Lisa’s chin upwards to meet her eyes. “I think it’s more effective than you imagine.”
She pulled gently on the fingers in hers and allowed her chest to heave deeply with the anticipation of kissing the soft rose lips that were approaching her own.
“Shit!” Lisa suddenly exclaimed as half the contents of Erica’s glass trickled down her sleeve.
“Oh my God,” Erica exclaimed, pulling away and attempting to dab at the red liquid, “I’m sorry!”
Lisa simply laughed genuinely and assured her everything was O.K.
“It’s fine, Erica. It’s just a tiny bit, no problem.”
“No but it’s red wine,” she cried, “it’ll stain!”
“Erica,” she cried, taking both their wine glasses and setting them aside. “It’s really fine.” She leaned in and placed her lips to the blonde’s to quieten her worries. Pulling back as quickly as she had advanced, she rose to her knees and pulled the thin sweater from her body in one swift motion. Her simple black tank top rose with it to reveal her midriff and Erica’s eyes were glued to the toned, pale skin inches before her. Her gaze was only interrupted by Lisa’s hand tugging the material back down to her waist and the appearance of a mischievous grin on her countenance.
“See,” she leaned back in, towering over Erica, and placed her lips millimetres from those before her, “really not a problem.” Erica could feel the steady, warm rush of Lisa’s breath against her skin and the increasing intensity of the rise and fall of her chest as she wound her arms around her torso. She grasped the material of her tank and, with a prolonged moment of eye contact seeking permission, pulled Lisa atop herself and pressed their lips together.
Their bodies moulded easily into each other and into the soft cushions of the sofa. As the kiss developed languidly into an embrace of passion and tenderness, Erica’s foot found its way up the inside of Lisa’s bare, muscular calf. The body pressed to her own seemed to radiate heat at this movement and Lisa pulled away very slightly to exhale a shaky breath into their kiss.
“Are you O.K?” Erica whispered gently as she tucked cascading red hair behind Lisa’s ears.
“I’m good,” she replied, “I’d forgotten how great it can be to just make out like teenagers! But I really think you have no idea what effect you have on me, Erica.”
The blonde exhaled deeply and shuffled so that they were now lying beside each other, her foot remained at Lisa’s calf and enabled her to slip her leg between those already partially entwined with hers. She pulled Lisa in by the waist so that their bodies were flush against each other.
“Do you want to stop?” her voice was husky and low as usual but had taken a further breathy tone that caused a visible darkening in Lisa’s eyes, who simply shook her head, traced a finger across Erica’s clavicle and down to the swell of her breast as she moved back in to kiss her sweetly.
They had been sitting at the counter sipping wine and discussing differential diagnoses for almost an hour when Arizona sighed and rested her head dejectedly in her hand. Callie watched her, her eyes narrowing briefly in concern, before hopping from her stool and stepping closer. Her hand ran the length of Arizona’s back and she rested her chin on a cotton covered shoulder to press her lips lightly to the flushed cheek she found there.
“You’re doing everything you can,” she whispered the sentiment she knew meant little almost apologetically. “This kid has you and I and a mother who won’t let it go; he has people fighting for him which are more, a lot more than some kids have.”
Arizona smiled despite herself as Callie reached over to the box on the counter and offered her a doughnut, brushing a little sugar across her lips. She licked the sweet grains away and pulled the figure before her in by the hips. Callie readily accepted the embrace and felt a familiar rush of euphoria emanate from her fluttering chest as Arizona wrapped her tightly in all four limbs, burrowing her head between chin and shoulder.
“I don’t deal with failure well,” she spoke quietly into the warm and iridescent skin beneath her lips, “especially when that failure means a lifetime of chronic pain for such a good kid.”
“I know,” Callie replied with a smile, “I’ve noticed.” She pulled back slightly and cocked her head to the side. “Sleep on it?” she asked tentatively. “We’re over-thinking. Maybe it’ll come if you just let yourself relax.” Arizona nodded and slid from the stool, pecking her lips to Callie’s nose before helping to clear the counter.
They searched under Callie’s pillows for various items of sleepwear and tiredly removed make-up and brushed teeth side-by-side in the bathroom mirror. Callie slipped under the cool covers first and felt her whole body relax into the soft mattress as Arizona moulded herself into her back. She pulled the arm snaking across her abdomen up between her breasts and linked their fingers tightly under her chin.
Callie’s breathing had long since settled into the regular pattern of deep sleep and Arizona teetered contentedly on the precipice, warmed by the soft body pressed against her. She inhaled the smell of Callie’s shampoo from the wisps of hair at her neckline and, on releasing the deep breath from her chest, sat up suddenly and gasped.
“It’s aggravated,” she said breathily. “When he extends or flexes his spine, the pain is aggravated!”
“What?!” Callie turned over and screwed her eyes shut sleepily.
“This kid has a tethered spinal cord, Callie, I can feel it.”
Callie pouted her lips in thought and met Arizona’s eyes with a nod. “Yeah,” she agreed, “could be. CT Myelogram?”
“CT Myelogram,” Arizona confirmed, smiling widely and settling back into Callie’s arms.
“So do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?” Callie asked as she wrapped an arm around a slim waist.
Arizona looked briefly into the eyes that met her own before concentrating on the slight convex of Callie’s breast that was visible above the neckline of her shirt. She traced her finger across the skin there and shrugged slightly.
“Maybe,” she teased. Their eyes met only a brief moment before their lips, soft and gentle caresses guiding their bodies to closer proximity. Callie heard Arizona exhale an elongated moan of contentment into their kiss.
“Arizona?” she whispered between pouts.
“Mhm,” the blonde kissed along the soft, warm cheek that Callie had been sleeping on.
“Do you really smoke?!”
They both descended into fits of laughter, grasping at each other as their breath caught in their chests before Arizona seized the opportunity to roll atop Callie and silence her with passionate kisses.
ARIZONA: I ensure she’s completely exhausted and satisfied before I lay still beside her. She’s drifting on the high of that last shattering release and I know she’ll barely be able to open her eyes now, let alone talk to me. She’s so beautiful; in all her imperfections she’s flawless to me and despite the lump that now, inevitably, rises to my throat, I feel again that I’m doing the right thing.
The flashes begin almost the instant I realise she’s breathing the steady rhythm and pace of sleep. My mother hurtling towards the depths of depression, the flag, the hanger... his face. I’m a doctor and I know that this isn’t normal; I know this is not one of the documented stages of grief but I’m fighting the notion, with everything I have, that I need help with this. I tell people every day that it’s not weak to ask for help, but I just can’t take my own advice.
I lie there for perhaps an hour, perhaps two. It’s obvious that sleep will evade me so I rise quietly and head to the living room. I pick up my scattered clothing and hesitate for only a moment before deciding to put them back on and head out. It’s almost 3am and I know it’s ridiculous, irrational, but I long for the numbing wind and soothing rhythm to cloud my mind for a short while again. I check once more that Callie is sleeping and leave the apartment soundlessly.
CALLIE: I wake and instinctively reach for her; when I find that she’s not there and her side of the bed is cold, I glance at the red LED of the clock. It’s 4.30am and I can already sense that she’s not in the apartment. I rise and check the place anyway but am unsurprised to find it empty. There is no note but the absence of her running gear makes it obvious where she is. I flop down onto the sofa and exhale my worry. I’ve asked myself a hundred times what’s behind this behaviour; it’s been about a month since I noticed it and what I continue to conclude is that Arizona is suffering delayed grief for her brother, triggered by George’s death.
She refuses to talk about it and is becoming increasingly skilled at ensuring that I cannot ask; as is clearly evident from tonight’s events. The sun is casting its first feeble rays into the room and I glance at the door intermittently, hoping that she’ll walk through it every time. In moments like this I always resolve to probe further, insist more forcefully. But I never have and I probably never will. Why? Because I fear that this isn’t about her brother at all. I fear that it isn’t the silent torment in her mind that prevents her from looking me in the eye, but rather that she’s unhappy with me; being with me altogether.
I don’t know how long it took me to fall asleep where I’m sitting but I’m woken by the soft tickle of her lips against my forehead.
“Hi,” she says quietly. “Did I wake you when I left? I’m sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”
Her hand is in mine as she perches on the back of the sofa and kicks her trainers off. I squeeze it tightly until she looks at me.
“Where do you go, Ar?” I ask simply and she averts her gaze once again.
“All over,” she says on standing and heads to the kitchen for water. “It depends how far I want to go or if I want to do hills or...”
“No,” I cut her off. “I mean where do you go?”
The pain in her eyes is so evident in that moment. She looks at me with such childlike longing that I want to wrap her in my arms and never let go. But before I can even stand from the sofa, her expression has changed and she’s plastered a smile across her features once again.
“Nowhere, Cal!” she says brightly, as though the question were utterly ridiculous. “I’m right here.”
ARIZONA: I lean into the spray of water that hits my face and rest a palm against the tile. I don’t know how to appease her in this moment; she’s not stupid and I can tell she’s mad and really quite upset. How can I explain that all I want is for her to be O.K? A wave of fatigue rolls over me and I glance at the time; 6.00am. I could sleep for an hour or two now before work and I finally feel that I might.
She’s waiting for me in the bedroom as I towel myself dry and watches my actions quietly.
“I don’t know what to say to you that will make you see I’m waving a white flag here, Arizona.”
Her voice is unsteady and painful to hear; I meet her eyes for a brief moment but feel myself all too quickly sinking into them, so I avert my gaze. Her shoulders drop immediately and I hear an exasperated sigh from her direction. She can see I’m preparing for bed and goes to leave the room.
At the door she hesitates and turns back towards me. “If I didn’t think you desperately need a bit of sleep, I’d keep pressing, Ar. I...” she furrows her brow and purses her lips as her hand comes to rest on the open door. “I really don’t know what’s... happening here. But there’s something, and that something is stopping you from talking to me or even looking at me properly...”
I swallow a large lump threatening to betray me and force my eyes to meet hers.
“Get some sleep now,” she implores me with her eyes. “But I’m not... I’m not done talking about this.” Her chest heaves as I perch on the end of the bed, she’s about to say something else, I feel, but exhales the words in a breathy sigh instead before leaving the room. I lie down and pull the sheets tightly around my chin, shutting my eyes forcefully against the haze that clouds my mind.
CALLIE: I head directly for the kitchen and run my hand exasperatedly over my face. I just don’t know how to react in this moment. I want to yell and cry and I have a strong urge to throw something. She makes me so mad! I turn on the tap and splash some water over my face, relishing the cool, calming effect of the droplets that trickle down my neck. No matter how hard she tries to push me, no matter how crazy it makes me, my thoughts inevitably return to her well being and I glance back towards the bedroom.
I can see the end of the bed and the sheets that are disturbed intermittently as she tosses and turns. I recall one moment, earlier in our relationship, when she was millimetres from the precipice of sleep, how she told me of her surprise at how quickly she had become dependent on the warmth and proximity of my body in order to sleep. I lean my hips against the countertop and stand for a brief moment before heading back towards the bedroom.
Her eyes are closed but I can tell she’s not sleeping; her shoulders are knitted too tightly and her breathing remains light and quick. I slip into the bed behind her and mould my body into hers, sliding my arm over her torso, searching for a hand. She melts into me immediately and I feel a shaky breath disturb her chest. She grasps my proffered hand tightly and as I kiss her shoulder I forget my frustrations.
“I’m not giving up, Arizona,” I whisper softly into the curls that tickle my nose. “I’m not ready to give up on this.” Her breathing settles and she’s still as a summer lake; she’s deeply asleep within minutes but her hand, vice-like, continues to grasp my own.
CALLIE: She’s running more lately. I know she loves it because she’s always banging on about how free she feels on the roads, how much calmer she feels after pounding the tarmac for a couple of hours. But at the moment it’s all the time, every night if she can, and it’s replacing how we used to talk. I watch her lace her trainers meticulously, the defined muscles of her calf flexing as she rests her foot against the chair. I want to ask her to stay; missing her despite the fact she’s gone nowhere. But the tortured look flecked across her irises always fades a little when she returns, slick and panting, so I remain silent.
“I made you a running playlist,” I say as I hold up the ipod she’s now glancing around the room in search of. She cocks her head to the side and smiles at me genuinely, though it barely moves her lips and bypasses her eyes completely.
“You did?” She takes the gadget from me and kisses my head gently over the back of the sofa. She begins to move away but I grasp her wrist and pull her back towards me, bringing our lips together. I search for her eyes, feeling briefly that she’s avoiding looking at me.
“Are you O.K, Ar?” I’ve asked her a thousand times and I get the same answer again. She raises her eyebrows, smiles almost forcefully and nods her head with vigour. It’s her poor man’s version of perky and I don’t buy it for a second. She’s gone before I can probe her further and I head to the window to watch her retreating form bob down the dusky street.
ARIZONA: I know she’s worried about me and I hate making her look that way. Her face contorts almost as though she’s in pain when I dismiss her gentle probing for answers. I do this, I place one foot in front of the other and relish the sound of my rubber soles hitting the ground because I don’t have to think about being the cause of that look. And I don’t have to think about my mother or the anniversary of my brother’s death and, most importantly, I don’t have to feel the burning threat of tears that seems to accompany me everywhere nowadays.
The wind is a little sharp and I enjoy the way it cuts into my cheeks, I can feel them redden as I pick up speed and allow the satisfying burning to reach the depths of my lungs. I’m a strong woman; I’ve always dealt with things by raising my chin, smiling widely and getting on with it. I’m trying so hard to do that now, but it’s getting more and more difficult.
The sun is a brilliant red on the horizon; it’s that part of the day when its slick retreat makes it very clear that we are spinning so rapidly on this earth. It makes me feel a bit better to know that I’m not the only one. My knees are feeling the added pressure of running so frequently so I take a left to run uphill, slowing the pace and impact. I know this is excessive but if I don’t break my body a little bit, I’ll break altogether; I don’t do that.
I can’t crumble and that means I can’t be around her all the time. Because she makes me feel so safe, so loved and sheltered that I could let it all flow so freely onto her shoulders. That can’t happen; she’s too fragile, too raw from loosing George and I would do anything to keep her with me, even if it means damaging me.
I pant as I reach the top of the hill and take in the view, leaning forward onto my own thighs. It’s bracing and I convince myself as I stand here that I’m doing the right thing by her. If she knew what I saw in my sleep, how I hear his voice when no-one speaks or how my heart physically aches at times, could she handle it? I’m struck by one thought alone; it’s my job to ensure she doesn’t have to.
CALLIE: She returns about an hour later, her skin shining with sweat and her curls unruly. She’s never been sexier. I greet her and watch as she crosses the short distance to the bathroom, shedding her clothes as she goes. Her trainers are toed off at the heels and she easily slips off her shirt, dropping it beside the bathroom door. She turns as her fingers hook into the waist of her shorts and looks at me on the sofa. She cocks her head invitingly and suppresses a mischievous grin as the lycra slides down her thighs. This is another symptom of her recent behaviour. Sex, and lots of it.
I’m not complaining, certainly not. It’s always incredible and I love feeling her beneath me, beside me, above me, at any given opportunity. But there’s something not quite there, something’s missing. As I hop from the sofa and join her at the door, she presses her lips to mine immediately, before I can take a breath or find her eyes.
She pulls me into the bathroom and whips off my shirt, casting it aside before reaching back to flip the shower on. As she arches to reach the switch I take her weight through my palm, splayed across her lower back. Her bare torso is a bridge of shining skin before me, the muscles of her abdomen clearly defined like stepping stones leading towards her breasts. I trace a finger from her sternum to her navel down the subtle, muscular line that spans her abdomen. She tenses to return upright and pulls me in by the back of my head, kissing me hungrily.
I’m hesitant for one second because I can feel her urgency and it doesn’t sit so comfortably with me; I consider stopping and imploring her to talk to me but I know almost instantly that I won’t. I won’t because despite her vacancy, I feel close to her when her body hums at my touch and I won’t because she’s flicked open my bra and is gently teasing my nipple to a peak with her teeth. Air rushes from my lungs, escorting with it a low groan as it sweeps past my vocal chords. I hastily kick off my jeans and grasp her tiny waist.
She’s encouraged by this and finds my hand, dragging me back towards the large cubicle. Warm water hits the side of my face as we enter and I push her firmly against the tiles. Her stomach is rising and falling rapidly as she attempts to fill her lungs in the steamy atmosphere. I kiss her neck and taste the difference as the salty sheen is swept away by water, cleansing her skin. My hands wind their way behind her and find the cotton of her panties, the wet material clinging tightly to her behind. My knee parts hers slowly and in one swift motion I push her by the butt so that her entire weight is resting on my thigh. She growls at me and undulates her pelvis, wavelike, to increase the pressure.
She’s always been an uninhibited lover, unashamed to make it patently clear that she wants me, wants it faster, harder. But recently the desperation in her actions has changed; she clings to me and clings to her release as though her life depends on it. I can’t quite decide if it’s devastatingly sexy, or just... devastating.
I remove my thigh from between hers and, slipping my fingers under the cotton of her underwear, replace the pressure with my hand. Being as familiar with her body as I am, I know that she doesn’t need me inside to get there for the first time; I roll my fingers across her with escalating pressure and allow her hips to beat time. She’s almost feral; I watch her, head thrown back against tile and an arm wrapped around my neck, writhing breathlessly.
Droplets of water pool in the corners of her eyes as they are squeezed tightly shut against an encroaching orgasm. She shakes and grunts and tenses as it courses through her before wrapping the other arm around my neck and falling limply into my embrace. She thinks I don’t know why the shower has become her new favourite place to do this; I know she’s mistaken when I feel her hot tears drip on to my shoulder.
