A/N Here I am, once again. Sorry for the wait, so many things to do so little time!
Arizona finally arrived at the Florence motel. She was late and she didn't like it.
It was not about being the daughter of a marine. It was about Callie, about losing time with Callie. The blonde simply didn't want to, couldn't. However a client wasn't happy with her ideas for their new patio and then Seattle's rain and then the traffic.
So she was late and tense.
Arizona could spot Callie's car but the brunette wasn't inside. She went straight for their room but the door wouldn't open. Where was she?
After a while the blonde turned toward the motel office. There, through a window, she could see the brunette, her brunette, laughing heartily with the receptionist. Carina was a flirt, a strong Italian accent and the right innuendo always handy. Arizona herself couldn't deny the charm of the young girl but still she limited their interactions to just small talk, picking the key and going out again. It took her in general five to seven minutes for the whole scene.
Why was Callie still in there? And why was she blushing? Was it because she actually checked Carina's cleavage or because that key passing had them almost hand in hand?
"By the way, hi"
Callie pulled Arizona to her but the blonde faced away.
The blonde's silence already confused Callie once she found her lover outside their room but the blunt rejection had the brunette on the alert: "What's wrong?"
"Nothing". Arizona just distanced herself, going further inside the room.
But that wasn't true. Callie knew Arizona, she used to be able to read her like an open book.
The stance, the stiffness, the cold shoulder, the silence, the distance. They were all signs of a bubbling storm.
They were all signs of what used to be Callie's punishment for something. Back then there would have been more questions and more avoidance, until she figured out what she did wrong to upset the blonde. Usually it had something to do with jealousy but now it couldn't, could it?
However that was another life, an ended one. In this life Callie wasn't sure she still had her ability to read the blonde, for sure she didn't have the time to figure out what went wrong. So the brunette decided to cut the crap.
"Talk Arizona, we don't have that much time."
Arizona was well aware of that and she was aware of the fact that this Callie, the present-Callie, this straight-to-the-point Callie, was not a familiar one.
So this Arizona, the present-Arizona, didn't back up from a fight. It was not about being the daughter of a marine. It was about Callie and the brunette's ability of awakening her inner green-eyed monster. She went to the minibar looking for something strong to sedate that monster. But then looking at Callie's reflection in the mirror in front her, all she seemed to be able to see was Carina catching a rebel strand of the brunette's hair.
She leaned on the dresser on the side of the mini bar and, armed crossed, she decided to punch first.
"It seemed to me that you had plenty of time for chatting with the receptionist."
Callie's stance faltered, her confusion intensified.
"Are you kidding me, right?"
They were staring at each other with so much intensity they could have set the room on fire. They were already in a ferocious fight without even knowing when it actually started.
"I am kidding or our time together is more than enough for you". Arizona said venomously between sips of whisky.
Punch hard and punch first so you have to just punch once, right?
The truth was that for Arizona their time together was barely enough. After six months of this affair she was craving the brunette presence in her life. And she was dying to know if it was the same for Callie.
However, if you want to ask a question you should put a question mark at the end of your sentence.
That statement, instead, was a slap in Callie's face. Was her lover able to tolerate her being married but not her talking with a random woman?
Arizona was attacking her for chatting with a random girl without acknowledging that she had been cheating on her wife with her for months now. That she had been risking her family for her for months.
And if that wasn't enough for Arizona, she had to say it.
"What do you want from me?"
A single questions straight to the point, again.
If Arizona didn't have the courage to ask, at least she could put the big girl pants on and answer.
She actually could have. But she didn't.
She instead stayed in silence, mulling over her Jack Daniel's.
The more Arizona stayed quiet the more Callie got angrier. Repeating like a broken record the same question over and over again
"What do you want, Arizona?"
"What do you want from me?"
Each time coming closer, each time cracking inside a bit. Each time the question seemed more a plea than a request until, eyes in eyes with a stoic blonde, something inside Callie snapped.
Callie took the glass from Arizona's hand and trowed it on the other side of the room.
Arizona flinched, not for the loud smash but for the look in Callie's eyes.
She was pissed and kissed her with a foreign force. She squeezed the blonde's face with one hand and violently opened her shirt and tore her bra up. Again, their eyes met. Callie was looking for something and it seemed to her that she didn't have any other way to get what she wanted.
If Arizona was good at keeping it cool, Callie was good at making her losing control.
She forced Arizona to turn around and pushed her on the dressed. The blonde had to brace herself with both hands otherwise would have crushed in the mirror in front of them.
Callie's hands were like those of a surgeon: precise even in moment like this, where the tension could have been cut with a knife. She knew every weak point of her lover and she planned to use them. A bite of the left earlobe, a forceful smack on the ass, an hand around her neck, a painful pinch of those nipples.
When she entered Arizona from behind, without any warning or grace, the blonde let out a deep moan and leaned on the dresser, unable to handle the overload of feelings and sensations.
Now Callie knew that Arizona had do listen to her.
She started asking again: "What do you want, Arizona?" Every word violently thrown like every trust in the blonde.
She grabbed Arizona's pony tail making the blonde pull up: "Open your eyes, now!"
Their reflection in the mirror was hot and sad.
The blonde was turned on so much by the Latina attitude that the more her lover was violent the more she became wetter, throbbing quite impossibile to contain.
Her chest was on display, heavy and flushed from all the pinching and the grasping.
Callie was relentless but she kept looking at her, she kept looking for an answer.
She thought that if Arizona didn't want just sex from her, even such great fuck should leave the blonde somehow unsatisfied.
If Arizona didn't want to reduce their relationship to just sex, she would say something.
Gazes met again, Callie was on the verge of coming. Arizona's ass poking at her entrance the all time.
She pleaded a last: "say it…"
But the only thing came from Arizona's mouth was the primal moan of her orgasm.
And Callie, exhausted, kept trusting into her until she came too.
Callie backed up until she could sit on the bed. She just had a shower of pleasure, sweat and disappointment.
A fuck can solve basically nothing, even a good one. And she was a fool to think otherwise.
She was panting, desperately trying to steady her breath and to not let a panic attack rise.
Arizona sensed the shift. Again something was crushing but it was not glass. A heart, maybe two.
Arizona was the daughter of a marine, she could attack or defend. She didn't seem able to just stop, to solve, to mend.
She started kissing Callie slowly, giving back the softness and delicacy that were missing just a minute ago.
She straddle the brunette and caressed her arms eliciting goosebumps.
She reached for Callie's hands, grabbing them and guiding Callie on her back on the bed.
Arizona didn't seem to be able to use words, to an external eye she could seem basically mute.
But every movement, caress, lick, suck, trust and soothe had the aim to convey a message. Only when Callie's orgasm approached for the second time, once the panting of the brunette seemed finally for pleasure and not for pain, Arizona let a word slip: "This."
This. In the meaning of the love, the connection, the affection.
However if you plan to finally use words, you should use more than just one.
And if this means more than just a good fuck, you should say it.
You should give context because people can't read you like an open book.
But Arizona didn't. And so she didn't get to be understood, just interpreted.
A/N these two are almost embarrassing, right? I swear that some actual talks are coming... at some point! I guess there is gonna be another chapter before going back to present days.