Intense, that's what Claire and Owen were. The passion was as powerful as the fighting. He loved her from his gut, and her love for him was life-crushing. They would do anything for the other. They would give their life for one another. But, there would also be times when they wanted to strangle each other.
They were compatibly incompatible; if that made sense. Making it work took a lot of effort, from both ends, and for almost three years they made it work. They were a great team. They complemented each other's strengths and weaknesses. They were complexed individuals; complex and complicated are usually mistaken for being the same thing. They are not.
There were days when it would get ugly. His carefree spirt would clash with her system and a blackout would happen. Or her need to keep everything tidy and under control would overflow his patience.
It would be interesting to lock them in a room for twenty-four hours for every time a fight broke loose; study their behavior. Would they make it out in a plastic bag or would they survive after having worked their differences?
Unfortunately, no one was around to monitor this. To sit them down and demand they deal with each other; that they won't leave until they realize that for one, they were fighting over something meaningless. And two, if they were paying close attention to the problem ...they would realize the solution to it was simple and didn't require for them to blow everything out of proportion. This, or just kill each other for once and for all and put an end to it.
Blowing everything out of proportion was something they both had in common.
She would dismiss him, making him feel inferior in a way — she was the bright mind. She was the smart one, she was on top of the food chain and he had to sit there and swallow it. For an Alpha like Owen, this made him lose it. He would explode in a minute, specially because she knew he was as smart as she was.
On the other hand, he would use sarcasm on her. He would make fun of her. He would dismiss her not intellectually but emotionally.
That part where they reinforced their weaknesses was a double-edged sword. It was their rise and fall.
The first year had been the hardest, not only because they were dealing with the aftermath of the Indominus Rex fiasco, but because they had to start a life from scratch and work to rebuild it together. This was like putting together a Lego house. It required team work and lots of patience.
They came to notice that as their lives were starting to settle, it became easier for them to make their relationship work. At first, the attraction and admiration they felt for one another was enough to pull through.
By the two year mark, they were comfortable enough and thought they knew what they wanted and had managed to work around their differences. It was like a Tetris game where they had to think fast and see where their pieces fit in the other's life. So far; they were winning the game. Every time they noticed unfinished lines starting to suffocate them, they would team up and clean the screen down.
This until Owen decided to plan a road trip for them; destination to wherever life took them.
"And how am I supposed to plan our itinerary if we are not heading anywhere in specific?" She asked while nibbling on the tap of the orange pen she had in her hands.
Claire was leaning against his naked chest, he had his arm around her shoulders, his fingers playing with the ends of her long red hair.
They were in bed, under the covers. A casual conversation before bedtime had ended with them agreeing on getting in his van and just take a long road trip.
Claire had immediately grabbed her personal organizer and color pen set. This made Owen rolled his eyes. You'd think that after dating her for almost three years, he'd be used to this.
"May I?" He asked, so he could show her how to plan it out.
Claire handed him the little notebook and the pen, her green eyes fixed on his hand, which was now grabbing the notebook. His other hand still around her shoulder as he wrote,
"No plan, that's the plan." He closed the notebook and set it by his other side.
"But—-" Claire leaned over trying to grab it.
"Nah-ah-ah..." He sang while stopping her half way.
He then used his secret weapon, and kissed her gently to let her mind get distracted from the whole thing.
It worked all the time.
She slowly kissed him back. Their lips gently tasting each other for a few seconds while he leaned her back against her pillows. Claire let her one hand slid around his neck, and offered him a soft moan upon deepening the kiss.
"But—-" She broke the kiss to protest.
"Babe, trust me. I got this." He insisted before letting his lips brush down to her neck.
The next morning, Owen took care of loading the van. He didn't have bookings of any sort. They could always spend the nights in his van. He loved that van to death. He could move into that van and spend the rest of his days driving and seeing where those endless roads took him.
This wouldn't be a first time experience for Claire, either. After dating the man for almost three years, she had done all sorts of things with him in the bed at the back of his van. Owen wasn't concern about her reaction to the accommodations.
Once the van was loaded, he honked for her to come out.
"C'mon, we are running late!" He honked a few more times.
"How can we be late if we don't have a schedule?" She wondered while walking over.
She was wearing a pair of bottom folded jeans, a lace strapless top, and a blazer. A pair of high heels clicked against the pavement as she approached him.
She had her green eyes behind a pair of sun glasses. Her purse hanging from one arm, her sunscreen lotion and her personal organizer were poking out from it as well as a bottle of water and of course her color pen set.
"I'm ready." She smiled over and kissed him gently.
"Good, bend over~" He offered a cheeky smile, unable to contain himself and check her out from head to toes.
"You are an asshole." She rolled her eyes and walked around the van so she could get into the passenger's seat.
He nodded proudly. That proud nod men do when they know their woman is hot. He opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. The two of them buckled up their seatbelts and he started the van.
Claire took her little notebook out from her purse and opened it, "so if we drive east for four hours, we could make it out of town and into this cute little diner. They also have a gas station in case we need to fill the van." She explained while going through the page.
"What's that?" He eyed over. She had the whole day planned out. "Claire, c'mon. At what time did you pull this shit off?" He chuckled. "Unbelievable."
"While you were loading the van and refused to let me help." She grinned.
"Jesus."
"Next time, try keep me distracted." She shrugged and reached over to the radio. She scanned for a music station he would like and then worked on getting some sunscreen on her. She sun burnt fast, if she wasn't careful, she'd end up looking like a lobster only after minutes.
Owen turned west and started to drive off. That would show her for getting sneaky and doing that ridiculous itinerary thing.
Or would it?
Claire gave him a look when he took the opposite route; which she knew he did on purpose.
However, she didn't say anything. At least not yet. Instead she poured some of her sunscreen lotion in her hands and made sure she rubbed every inch of his skin from waist up.
It annoyed him when she did that. He was convinced he didn't need sunscreen, specially not one that smelled like peach — a scent he found captivating in her, and didn't mind when it ended impregnated on him... through her, and this was not the same.
He didn't say anything, though. He was quiet, his eyes on the road while he willingly helped her cover him with the lotion. He'd switch hands on the wheel. He'd leaned forward while she kneeled down and rubbed it on his back. He'd raise his arm up so she could work on his chest.
This was the coordination they had mastered in their relationship. They both cooperated in something; he'd wear that stupid lotion because it made her happy and it wouldn't kill him.
She'd let him pick the music, even if in thirty minutes she'd end up with a headache. But it made him happy to have his tunes and she secretly loved watching him sing along and even put on a mini show as he drove.
But it was minuscule things like these what made them fight. They would fight without realizing they both wanted the same thing; just done differently.
"I don't see why you couldn't just head east." She said after a while, looking out the window.
She knew Owen was more than capable to give her those little things. The strong scent to peach on his skin was exhibit A. It upset her that he deliberately headed the opposite direction; just to mess with her.
"What difference does it make?" He chuckled, sensing she was taking this personal.
"We are not going anywhere, so you tell me what difference does it make?" She didn't make eye contact, instead kept looking out the window.
He reached out and rested his hand on her lap. Claire eyed it from behind her sun glasses and brushed it off.
"We don't need an itinerary to tell us we have a bathroom break in one hundred twenty minutes and ten seconds." He laughed.
"Are you mocking me?" She curved an eyebrow and was now looking his direction.
His eyes on the road, "We just don't need any of that crap." Owen insisted.
"That crap?"
"Stuff."
"That crap is—"
"Stuff~" he interrupted and corrected her.
"That stuff is important to me."
"I know, babe." He assured with a gentle squeeze to her hand.
"You do?"
"But we don't need it."
"Ugh. You are impossible." She was annoyed. She started to look around and found an old map. She unfolded it on her lap and started to study it.
Owen didn't pay attention. She seemed to have gotten lost in it, dropping the whole subject.
An hour had gone by, she had her color pen set out and was working on that map. He was singing along to Mötley Crüe's Girls, Girls, Girls.
Claire fetched for the now half empty bottle of water and took a sip. She then offered it to him so he could drink.
Upon giving her the bottle back, he kept hold of her hand and took it to his lips for a gentle kiss. She let her freckled fingers linger and played with his hair for a few seconds.
"There's an exit in twenty minutes." She casually let him know. "Maybe we can take it and get a bathroom break?"
"Do you have to go? Because I can pull over."
"Why are you so disgusting?" She rolled her eyes and pulled away.
"Twenty minutes is a long way, that's all I'm saying."
"No, Owen, I don't have to go. But maybe we should take it because the next one would be far off." She looked down at her map.
"If we don't have to go, we are not stopping." He shrugged.
"What if you need to go in thirty minutes? You'd regret not stopping."
"If I have to go in thirty minutes, then I'll hold it until the next exit."
"What if I have to go in thirty minutes? Are you going to make me hold it for two hours?" She wondered.
"Why are we discussing over pee?"
"Because you are a jerk!"
"And you are a control freak!"
"Wow. Okay." She nodded.
"I just don't see why you don't trust me. Why do you need to do all that sh—stuff? Every single time, jeez, Claire. Isn't it exhausting? Chill for a second, please?"
"Whatever—"
And just like she had calculated, exactly twenty minutes later, they were leaving that one exit behind them.
Claire pretended she didn't notice and instead picked on a new little challenge. A devious smile on her lips while she looked down.
Owen was now busy singing to Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd.
"Water, babe?" She smiled and offered him the bottle, which he took.
The redhead casually kept the water offering every couple of songs until he had drank the whole bottle down.
Soon, he took on singing for her. Claire had figured out by now that he did this to his guilty pleasure songs; those he thought were too cheesy to admit he liked. So here he was, singing to her, out loud;
You should have seen by the look in my eyes, baby
There was somethin' missin'
You should have known by the tone of my voice, maybe
But you didn't listen
You played dead, but you never bled
Instead you laid still in the grass, all coiled up and hissin'
Claire just laughed and turned the music up before adjusting and finding a way to be leaned against his side while he kept driving.
This is where phase two of her plan came in. She was suddenly feeling touchy feely. This always made him lose control.
The bathroom break exit she had suggested was about thirty minutes behind them by now.
She let her lips brush up his cheek, and finding his ear she smiled against it. "Keep singing to me, I like it..." She murmured before nibbling on his ear lobe.
...And I meant
Every word I said
When I said that I loved you, I meant that I loved you forever
And I'm gonna keep on lovin' you
'Cause it's the only thing I want to do
I don't want to sleep, I just want to keep on lovin' you.
Claire was laughing at his over the top mimicry and air guitar, but her lips and her hands were on a mission.
She brought her lips down to his neck, using one of her hands to tilt his head to the side at the exact angle she needed it, still making it possible for him to keep his eyes on the road but impossible to keep singing.
She peppered it with soft kisses, her hand sneaking under his shirt while she felt the warmth of his chest against it. A hand she had made sure to keep cold by the a/c vent just minutes before.
"You are cold~" He laughed, wiggling a little.
Her hand moved down, "is it bad that I want to slip it down your pants, get it warm?" She teased, slipping down up to her nails and started massaging his lower abdomen.
"You want me to crash and die." He adjusted, leaning back a little.
"Do you want me to stop?" She asked playfully.
"Nope. Not one bit, not at all." He shook his head, but kept his senses on the road. "I got this."
Claire was using the music coming out of the car radio to count time. A song should be an average of three minutes, which is what she spent massaging the area below his belly button.
She then found a way to kiss him soundly a couple of times making sure his eyes didn't stay off the road for long.
Owen had a huge goofy grin on his lips, "this just turned interesting." He chuckled.
"For you and me both." She agreed, hiding her smile from him. "Be right back." She casually added and crawled over to the back.
Owen couldn't help himself and playfully spanked her before laughing like an idiot.
"What have I told you about doing that?" Claire had turned over and her head was now over his shoulder.
She nibbled gently at it and faked a light moan for his pleasure. She then went to the back.
In two minutes, the redhead was back with a new water bottle, salty nuts, and a towel.
She spent the next half an hour feeding him those nuts and making him parch with them, so he willingly drank almost the entire bottle of water.
Her hands hadn't stayed steady either. She had been massaging the inside of his thigh though his jeans while he drove, ate, and drank water.
"I—I would need you to stop that for a few." Owen finally mumbled. He adjusted and shifted a little.
"Why, you don't like it?" She asked innocently, her fingers playfully pinching the inside of his thigh.
"Oh, I do. It's just —-"
"It's just what?" She tilted her head. Claire felt like she was swallowing her smile, it was hard to keep hidden.
"Nothing..." He eyed her and shook his head.
She shrugged and kept the massaging going for about ten more minutes. She'd alter from his thigh to his lower abdomen. She always made sure to keep her hand cool.
At some point it was impossible for him to hold it and before he could pull over, the man peed his pants.
Claire looked down as he relaxed and his jeans grew wet. She threw the towel to his face and pulled away from him.
"Asshole."
Claire 1 —- Owen 0
But who was keeping score, really? Specially when at the end, they both would lose.