I had a random burst of Ezria inspiration. So, this is the result.
Apartment 3B was silent besides the weakened, fading moans and quiet rustling of the sheets.
Aria finally allowed herself to close her eyes, her boyfriend's body on top of hers, as they recovered from their passionate night of making love. Their warm, bare skin stuck together, but only in the best way possible—it felt right, it felt comfortably familiar—as it always did on the rare nights they spent together.
The nights that were about to come to an end.
Ezra kissed her gently on the lips before rolling his body beside hers and pulling her close, tugging the blanket over their naked bodies. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck, resting her hand on his chest. His heartbeat mirrored hers. They breathed heavily for a few moments as they tried to catch their breath.
There was nothing Aria enjoyed more than Ezra's bare skin against hers, and for Ezra, the feeling was mutual. Which is why the decision had been so hard on Ezra, but ultimately, it was the only choice he had.
"Congratulations on the new job," Aria whispered sleepily, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. If Ezra hadn't witnessed her angry screams hours before, he wouldn't have noticed the sarcasm in her tired voice. "I can't believe I just had sex with my teacher." She didn't smile. It was nothing to laugh about.
Aria and Ezra weren't an aggressive couple by any means, but tonight, their love was far more aggressive than passionate. It was angry sex. Goodbye sex. Celebration sex. All of the above sex. And it was, what Aria thought, the best sex they ever had.
Ezra didn't give in to sleep as easily as Aria did. "We can't do this anymore, Aria."
Aria opened her eyes and looked at Ezra with a questioning gaze. "Any of it?"
Ezra delicately brushed his fingers through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. "Maybe just the sleeping together part." He pressed his lips against her forehead, and she frowned.
Aria sighed and pulled herself closer to Ezra's body, tangling her legs between his. It was another feeling she couldn't imagine giving up tomorrow—his protective, rough legs wrapped around her much smaller ones. "We can start that tomorrow," she told him with a kiss. "Night." And just like that, she was fast asleep.
Meredith the psycho was gone, and after a string of various substitute teachers, Rosewood High School finally hired a new permanent replacement. It was supposed to be another boring, unimportant day in the middle of the week—but for Aria, this was not the case. No one can predict the moments that will one day define their life, but after today, Aria wished she could.
She was seated one row over from the windows, per usual. She tapped her pen on her notebook, waiting for the new teacher to lecture the class about the Vietnam War. How she wished she were in English class instead, even if it meant being taught by her mother. Her pen created intricate designs around the top of the paper until she felt the eyes of the entire class on her.
Her eyes moved from the paper to the faces around her, all seemed to be waiting for a reaction of some sort. She looked to the front of the classroom and saw the familiar shirt, the familiar tie, and most importantly, the familiar face—of Ezra Fitz. Or, starting today, Mr. Fitz.
He cleared his throat. He tried not to look at Aria, but it was difficult not to. He'd look at Hanna, Mona, to the kid with the ugly camouflage shirt, the poster of Einstein, but his eyes always made their way back to his beautiful girlfriend, with the not-so-beautiful look on her face.
It was a mixture of pain and anger, or what some might call betrayal. Aria could see him internally cringe as she gave him the death stare.
"Some of you may remember me," he announced to the class, focusing on the back wall, "but I'm your new history teacher, Mr. Fitz."
He licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck. Aria noticed he always did this when he was nervous. Usually it was cute, but today she wanted to slap him across the face as hard as she possibly could the second his tongue exited his mouth. How could he do this to her?
She couldn't take the stares and muffled whispers of everyone around her. They wanted her to react—so she did. She picked up her notebook, held it against her chest, and walked out of the room without looking at Mr. Fitz once. Like he didn't exist.
Like he wasn't her teacher again.
Aria woke up with overwhelming anger towards her boyfriend slash teacher—and after remembering she was naked and in his arms, she was angry at herself too. She untangled herself from Ezra's limbs, causing him to quietly groan in his sleep from the sudden shift. She crawled out of bed and picked up his t-shirt from the floor, slipping it over her body.
Why was it so easy to transition from wanting to kill him, to waking up in a tangle of bare limbs? She hated him for this, but as the pattern goes, she also loved him for this. And she hated that, too.
The shirt hung loosely around her petite frame as she walked to the bathroom and stepped into the tub. She sat down and held her legs tight against her chest, allowing the shirt to stretch over her body. Her chin rested on her knees. Now what?
"You could've found a different job, Ezra!" Aria screamed at her boyfriend from across the apartment. "Out of everything you could've done, why would you be my history teacher?!" The words "my history teacher" spit from her mouth like it was the most disgusting phrase in the English language. She picked up Ezra's jacket from the back of a kitchen chair and threw it angrily across the room, but it didn't go very far.
Ezra tried to remain calm, just as he always did in these situations. "Aria, I didn't have a choice," he calmly explained. "I need to help support my son, and Rosewood was the first place to offer me a job."
Aria crossed her arms in front of her and dramatically rolled her eyes. "You don't even teach History. You're an English teacher." Somehow, this offended Aria—that he took something so sacred to their relationship and threw it away. They met when he was an English teacher, not a damn History teacher.
"Anyone can teach History, Aria," he pointed out, carefully walking towards her. "I'm just an English teacher who teaches History."
His answers weren't good enough, and no matter what he said, they wouldn't be good enough. She let out an exasperated sigh. "You're not allowed to teach History. You don't even like war."
Ezra couldn't disguise the small smile that appeared on his lips. "But that's not why you're mad, is it?"
Aria raised her eyebrows and stared at him, as if he asked a ridiculously obvious question. "I'm angry because I don't want to sneak around anymore," she hissed, stepping towards him. "I'm sick of being ashamed just because," she hesitated and bit her lip, "because I'm in love."
Ezra moved towards her, towering over her body. "No one said you have to be ashamed." He took his hands in hers, but she promptly ripped them from his grasp.
"No, you're not doing this to me." She stepped backwards, but he followed her. "I need to be mad at you right now."
"I don't want you to be mad at me." He followed her into the kitchen, moving forward as she backed up. "Forgive me," he begged softly in the same way that always caused her to break. She felt the counter on her back with the next step she took. Ezra cornered her, looking down with pleading eyes. "Please."
"No, I can't." Her mouth said one thing, her body said another. Before she could think twice, she aggressively slammed her lips into his. He lifted her body and placed it on the counter behind them. "I hate you, Mr. Fitz," she moaned into his mouth, while quickly unbuttoning the shirt he wore in front of the classroom this morning. Ezra wasted no time pulling her shirt over her head. "I hate you so much," she repeated, reaching for the button on his pants.
Aria stayed in the bathtub for well over a hour, until she heard the faint sound of music coming from the apartment. She lifted her head from her knees and tried to focus on the music playing through Ezra's speakers; her eyebrows creased in confusion. And then it clicked. She knew exactly what it was.
She carefully stepped out of the bathtub and opened the bathroom door, peering out into the apartment. Ezra was waiting for her on the couch wearing only a pair of boxers, looking down intently at his folded hands.
"Hey," she said quietly, as to not interrupt the thoughts in his head. "I was just—"
He looked up and shook his head. "It's okay, we both needed time to...think." He stood up and walked towards her, taking her hands in his. But this time she didn't let go. He lead her to the center of the room and held her close, her head against his chest, as they rocked slowly to B26. She was in his t-shirt, he was in his boxers.
"Why does this song fix everything?" she asked, not moving her head from his chest.
"Because it brings us back to where we started," he quietly reminded her in a soothing voice. "And reminds us that we'll never end." They continued moving slowly to their song, holding each other close, and never letting go.
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