A/N - this chapter is kind of choppy and quick, and i really really need to sleep, but i couldn't sleep without posting this, so the whole chapter is just you guys getting to enjoy my writing sexy and unedited. honestly, george is only here for this chapter and he barely gets to say anything so you guys didn't have to worry.
also, callie and george are based on other people i've known or read about, but the way arizona is being with callie is completely just me self-projecting onto her (wait no not the working-through-her-slight-biphobia part. the other parts)
okay, i really need sleep, i'm all loopy right now i can't even bother to capitalise my words.
A/N 2 - okay, things prove that i can't bare my stupid self so i woke up early to edit this. to the few reviews that have already dropped, wow, thanks, you guys are fast. also, to the ones asking, this is not them playing 'hard to get'. this is people being people with complicated decisions we don't always understand, and people trying their best to do what they think is the right thing. feelings are always, always, hard, and maintaining relationships are never a walk in the park.
sorry for this long note, gah, enjoy!
VII - YELLOW WALLS
"'We can't ever be together,' he finished. "But I always want to know you, even if we're in the same room and you're just saying hi to me over and over again, I'll be perfectly happy. I'll always want to be sitting across from you."
— Adam Silvera, More Happy Than Not
…
JANUARY 10, 2013
...
When Arizona was in college, there had been a question on one of her papers that went like 'when and how was the moment when you felt completely and utterly alone?'
Her answer had been 'when I take a nap in the middle of the day, and when I wake up again, it's five in the evening because no one had woken me up. My whole head is heavy and confused and I feel forgotten by the whole world'. That was when loneliness had peaked.
…
Today, Arizona was moderately happy.
And it was absolutely garbage, because what was she supposed to do with moderate happiness?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
It had been a dozen days since Callie's gone on her first date with George, and to what Arizona had known, they were reaching a normal, stable, and uneventful place in their…dates.
And for her and Callie, they pinched and carved their friendship into everything they still wanted out of each other. Arizona almost felt like the way she did when she was a kid with Callie; happy, wild, dumb, and talking about everything and anything, from her brother to weird rocks they found on the side of the road.
That was where her moderate happiness came from—seeing Callie looking a bit happier. And it was probably also why she was sitting on Callie's bed right then, watching Callie scrounging her small closet for appropriate clothes for a third date.
"Does this look better?" Callie mumbled as she took out another sweater, bringing it in front of her. "Or this?" She frowned, snatching up anther one. "Or this?"
She plopped down onto the bed, whining, "Arizona! Help me! It's been such a long time since I've actually been on dates that may lead to something!"
Arizona chuckled at Callie's whining and patted her gently on the arm. "You'll do great. He'll be an idiot not to appreciate you."
Callie let out a breath. "Right."
Arizona bit her own lip at the word 'he'. She shook it off and concentrated on Callie's happy face.
"And…you know, I have a few tops you might like at my place. We can go try those on if you feel like nothing fits. Your date isn't until after your shift this evening anyway."
Callie looked at Arizona and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Arizona. Really."
Arizona smiled back. "It's no problem. This is what friends do, right?"
…
The moment when Arizona crossed Callie and George in the lobby right before they had to go on the date, she stared for a few seconds and did nothing.
And then she chuckled to herself and looked George up and down.
He had big brown eyes and he wasn't ugly. He was taller and softer and more caring than Arizona.
But he didn't hold Callie's hand the way she liked to and he didn't seem like he cared about Callie more then Arizona did.
She watched Callie leave the hospital with him, hand in hand and chattering happily.
But Arizona wasn't surprised. George was always a good guy.
That night, she had Teddy bring over two bottles of wine and they sat there, Arizona staring at the wall and taking gulps of her white.
"Callie's on a date."
Teddy nodded, watching her friend.
"Callie's on a date, and I'm happy for her. Because I'm her friend."
Teddy nodded again.
"Callie's on a date. With a man."
Teddy stopped nodding and frowned. "What? What's wrong with that? I date men."
"You only date men."
"Uh, yeah."
"Callie's with a man."
Teddy frowned harder and put down her bottle on the carpeted floor. "Is Callie being bisexual bothering you?"
"What? No!" Arizona quickened to defend herself. "No, no…not really."
"I thought you guys had a thing?"
"And it was all it was. A thing."
Teddy looked at her for a moment, and then picked up her own bottle again, taking a swig. "Okay. But I'm your friend, so I'm calling you out." She put the bottle down and looked at Arizona in the eye. "Callie's bi. She's attracted to both men and women. And that shouldn't ever be one of the reasons you didn't go for her."
…
After just finishing up a surgery, Cristina and Mark had stood in the stairwells somewhere in the distance. George and Callie walked out the front doors, chatting happily.
"They're going on a date," Cristina had said.
They didn't look at each other. They looked into the lobby.
Mark had sighed. "People are weird. They let other people go even when they love them."
"And some are even weirder," Cristina had replied, "They don't let others go even when they don't love them."
"We never cherish the things we get too easily, Yang."
…
The days passed; they weren't getting any younger.
Callie came back from the third date and talked to Arizona about it. About how George was nice, but was a little slow at times. About how George was sweet, but he was the same kind of sweet to everyone.
And then Callie came back from the fourth, and the fifth, and Arizona listened to her talk about her life, and Arizona told her about her's.
Sometimes, it felt although something was missing with George, Callie had told Arizona, that there was a bit of this relationship he was keeping somewhere else. Maybe he was just afraid, Arizona had offered, and Callie had believed it.
And the days continued to pass, they were getting older.
Callie saw Derek and Meredith sneaking in and out of on-call rooms. She saw Cristina and Owen have some weird hide-and-seek thing going on, intense, and almost although punctured here and there with classical music.
She got to know George's friends a bit better, even though it was awkward at times, but George promised her that he would make things work. So Callie closed her mouth and went with him, and it wasn't until he blown her off twice only for her to find him laughing with Izzie Stevens that she decided to voice her issues.
She didn't know since when she started to learn to close her mouth and just look pretty.
George told her it was nothing to worry about, that it was like her and Mark.
And Callie believed him. But she that didn't mean that she didn't worry. And she hated it, being one of those girlfriends who worry about other girls all the time.
…
It wasn't until she had her first argument with George at the end of January, that she reached a boiling point.
It was the first time that he yelled at her and the first time that she yelled back.
She didn't cry when he told her that she was smothering sometimes, with her constant caring.
Callie left his place, and it was also the first time that she wished she still had her trust fund, just enough to buy a car so that she could've gotten to Arizona's apartment faster.
Mark was at the hospital. That was what she thought about on the ride over, that Mark wasn't available anyway.
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes and pushed the thought that George was surely off to find Izzie right about now. But she took a deep breath and she didn't cry.
She walked up to Arizona's door, knocked, and reminded herself to breathe.
…
Arizona found Callie standing at her door, head hung low and scrubs still unchanged, and she started worrying right away.
She forced a cup of tea down Callie's throat before letting her talk.
"I…" Callie stopped halfway and hung her head. "I don't even know why I'm here."
"Because we're friends, Calliope. We're friends, so that means that I'll be here for you if you're having a sucky day."
"Oh yeah. A sucky day. A sucky week," she mumbled, "urgh."
"George?" Callie nodded. "And Izzie?" Callie nodded again.
"I mean…I get how busy interns are. We were all there once."
"But they don't seem busy enough to not be together all the time?"
"Yes! Izzie Stevens is everywhere—everywhere, Arizona!"
Arizona swallowed the small lump in her throat and plopped down on her bed next to Callie. She gently guided Callie's arm that was covering her face away, and suddenly, she was glad she didn't start talking right away, because her voice surely would've cracked as she saw Callie's red eyes. Callie looked at her helplessly, her eyes glazed with unshed tears. Arizona saw Callie swallowing, trying to force them down. She couldn't bare seeing Callie this way, no matter who Callie was with, man or woman.
Arizona moved away from propping herself up by an elbow and rolled onto her back, side by side with Callie. The clean white sheets on the right side of the bed will smell a little of Callie tonight, she was sure.
"I'm sure they're just friends, Calliope."
Callie scowled. "Maybe. But he still seems to think she is an awful lot more important than me."
"Don't say that. He'd be stupid to. Anyone would be stupid to."
Callie looked unconvinced. She stayed silent for a moment, and then rolled onto her side without the sharp annoyance of her previous words. In a painfully small voice, Callie mumbled, "Is what I'm doing wrong? Am I not supposed to chase after something I want, something that I think will make me happy just because I'm the only one doing it?" She looked up at Arizona. "Am I just an idiot or do I really just don't deserve this kind of love at all?"
For a split second, Arizona saw past the leather-jacket wearing exterior of Callie Torres.
Instead, she saw that little girl that never knew when to stop giving. That girl that was left alone by her family for who she was, who had fought teeth and nails, who had made do in a dirty basement for more than a year.
A girl who was overly confident sometimes because of that nagging insecurity.
Arizona wished she could reach inside of Callie and pull all that sadness away like a very long blue string.
Arizona pursed her lips at the word love and she shifted to look at Callie. She wanted to say so many things, but she didn't even dare to dream the consequences. By reflex, she held out her arm and curled it around Callie's shoulder, pulling her into herself. "You're not an idiot. And you deserve a lot." After thinking for a moment, she added, "You deserve a whole lot more then what…anyone is able to give you right now. George will get there eventually, Cal, don't you worry. If he doesn't, then someone will. Sometime, somewhere, in the future."
"How do I even know if that's true?"
"I promise it is. You have my word. Someone is trying their hardest to be good enough for you right this moment."
Callie sniffled. She still clung to Arizona's shirt, and the close space still made Arizona's heart beat too fast. "Okay. But you promise."
"I promise," Arizona said. Callie clung to her shirt and Arizona clung to the unspecified words of 'someone'.
…
Callie didn't cry when she had found George blowing her off again to be with Izzie. Callie didn't cry when George yelled at her. Callie didn't cry on the hopeless ride over.
But there in Arizona's warm bed, nothing was wrong at all.
And she cried.
…
The hospital was hectic. Catastrophic. And everything else in between.
Really, Callie felt like she was in a soap opera sometimes.
The early February wind was freezing when she pushed into the bar and found Mark at their usual spot, waiting for her with his head hung low.
She plopped down on the stool next to him. "Tough day?"
He groaned. "Tough week."
Callie shook her head, chuckling humourlessly and downing a shot right away. "I didn't expect your long-lost daughter to just show up out of nowhere either."
Mark dropped his face in his hands and rubbed it forcefully, groaning again. "I feel horrible."
"Hey." Callie looked at her friend and felt sorry for him. But she knew that he didn't need her pity right now, he needed a friend. She squeezed his arm gently and pulled it off his face. "Nothing's okay. But we're gonna stick together, right? We're ride or die."
Mark grunted.
"And…" Callie continued, pausing to wave over another round for Mark, "I'll get drunk with you while you sob over Lexie. I'm here."
"And you? You look distant and sad too."
Callie smiled weakly, seeing Mark still caring for her.
"So?"
"I ran out of Lucky Charms. I love Lucky Charms."
Mark continued to look at her, waiting patiently.
"And also, things aren't good with George."
"Ah."
"We haven't had a proper conversation in two weeks and every time I see him, he's with Izzie."
"You know that I'll smash his face in if he cheats, right?"
Callie tried to glare at him but it looked more like a reprimanding and sad smile. "Don't…let's not think of that yet."
"Yeah." Mark sighed again. "You're right. Lexie leaving me just made me lose faith in all relationships."
Callie shrugged, nodding.
"We can have a twelve-step program," he said, passing a hand over his chin, "stop sucking spectacularly at our lives and what-not."
"Step one, buy Lucky Charms."
"Step-two, get our shit together."
They stared at each other.
Mark finally shrugged, downing another shot. "It's more of a two-step program."
…
Once again, Callie felt like the idiot who fell too fast. She told George she loved him after they spent a rare weekend together. Now, it was Valentine's Day and George had just called.
He was at the hospital, saying he couldn't pull himself away.
The small table was filled with plates and a few candles, silently waiting for a dinner that wasn't coming. Callie put her phone back on the kitchen countertop and tried not to think of Izzie Stevens.
Her phone rang and she ignored it.
She sat with her back to her small kitchen and felt empty and light and almost inexistant.
Three rapid knocks on her door startled her out of her reverie. Frowning, and hoping George had finally come to his senses, she padded across the floor.
The door swung open and Callie's eyebrows flew up to her hairline. "Arizona?"
"Hey!" Arizona's cheeks were red and she was slightly out of breath. "I heard George was staying at the hospital with the other interns, and I wanted to check up on you. In case, you know, you went all overthinking again."
For a moment, Callie couldn't get any words out. She stammered, touched and surprised anyone cared enough for doing this. "I-I-" She shook her head, clearing it. "I'm fine."
Arizona stood there, a crease between her brows.
"Okay, I'm not fine."
"But you will be."
Callie fidgeted, pulling her long-sleeved polo over her hands. "Yeah. George is such a nice guy. I really think we'll work it out."
Arizona smiled and nodded.
"Thank you, Arizona, for being so good to me."
"It's nothing." And Arizona really meant it. It was never hard to be good to Callie.
Callie stopped mid-moment as she was opening the door wider and bit her lip. "B-But, is this a good idea?"
"Me wanting to comfort a friend in a time of need?"
"No, no, not that." Callie chewed her cheek and waved a finger between them. "Is this hypocritical of me?"
Arizona frowned for a moment before realising. "Oh."
"Mhm."
"He blew you off. And I'm just a friend."
Callie was still standing, a hand on her door and barely a foot away form Arizona, who still smelled of winter and the cold wind outside. "And we both know I'll never do that to George."
Arizona smiled. "Exactly. Now, I've got alcohol. We can get drunk and whine about our sad lives."
For the first time since her call with George, Callie smiled. "That sounds great."
…
Arizona sat beside Callie on the floor, their backs to the couch and facing the table of fancy food Callie had prepared. She listened to Callie complaining about George and she still felt that nauseous feeling when she thought of Callie sleeping with a man, but it was less violent than last time.
"You know," Arizona offered, clinking her bottle with Callie's, "You should do some of that stereotypical stuff you see in shows. Burn his clothes or something."
"Huh." Callie thought about it for a moment.
"You have any of his boxers lying around?"
Callie thought for a minute. "Don't people only do that when they breakup?"
Arizona was stumped for split second, but she quickly recovered and pretended to push her inexistant glasses up her nose. "Now, see, Calliope, this is so much more than that."
"Really?"
"Of course it is. It is a way of coping with your…er, frustrations."
"Maybe I can throw his shirts off my balcony instead of burning them?" Callie tapped her finger on her chin. "It would be less extreme, right?"
Arizona sighed. "Not the point of the experiment at all. You're an idiot."
Callie shrugged, giggling as she tipsily grabbed Arizona's hand and rushing into her bedroom. She dug through her horrendously messy closet as Arizona watched with her arms crossed and a small smile playing on her lips.
She chucked George's shirt off of the balcony, and the way Arizona looked at her was sadder than Callie even felt.
"I'm an idiot, but you'll feed me when I'm old and still single?"
Arizona laughed. "Of course I will." She rested a hand lightly on Callie's back and held the screen doors open. "Now let's get back inside before you catch a cold."
Back inside, sitting face to face around her dinner gone cold, Arizona flicked through her phone. Arizona always knew when Callie needed silence.
And the silence stayed and passed until Callie decided to start talking.
She watched the candle flicker and cast shadows on Arizona's old button-up shirt. She hadn't worn it for a while now, if Callie remembered right.
Finally, she looked up and smiled at Arizona, chuckling a bit awkwardly. "I…uh," she waved her hand to their surroundings. "I painted the walls yellow."
Arizona raised her eyebrows.
"N-not exactly very yellow. Uh, lighter, greyer…but it was one of your suggestions!"
Arizona felt warm all over.
Arizona knew, they were nothing more than friends.
But in that moment, it really felt like love.
…
"Promise me you'll talk to George?"
Callie looked her in the eyes and felt steadier than she'd felt in months. "I promise."
They had gotten rid of the dinner. It was now lying in the trash chute.
"Love isn't a word you throw around, Calliope. Only say it out loud when you know that you're strong enough to carry the responsibilities that come with it."
Callie nodded. "I'll talk to George. We'll sort things out. Or we'll sort ourselves out first."
"Good." Arizona glanced at the clock on the wooden table and suddenly didn't want the night to end so quickly. "But wait until the morning comes."
Callie nodded again, although a bit confused. But it was fine.
Valentine's Day wasn't made for their kind anyway.
These weird people like them who thought midnight convenience stores were romantic.
…
Arizona knew that the attendings praised her on her change once back from Africa, especially these few weeks. They said that her perkier attitude helped her in the pediatrics department much better then her hard and unforgiving ways from before. They said that her smile was nicer to see and that her supposedly 'soft' character was much more pleasant to work with and talk to.
Arizona knew that this was one of the things Callie would always be better at.
Callie was one of those rare ones that continued loving and hating and living with such intensity, not giving in to getting along with everyone.
Arizona knew that all her perkiness was, was a remolding of herself into a rounder edge, to not chafe on other people's personalities.
It was convenient, but it wasn't very brave.
She sighed and threw the rest of her sandwich into the garbage can.
She hated sandwiches.
But it was all they had in the cafeteria at three in the afternoon.
She walked back to the pediatric department and even managed to flirt with a few nurses.
…
"I'm going on a date," Arizona said loudly, more to herself then Callie. Who, ironically, looked more excited then Arizona. "And I have nothing to wear." Which was true, since Arizona didn't really care to put any other clothes then pants, jeans, shirts, and the occasional blazer in her new wardrobe. And they were all too casual or too not 'womanly' to put on for dates. What the heck is 'womanly' supposed to look like anyway?
It was the beginnings of March, and Seattle was raining more than ever.
Callie clapped her hands and bounced on the balls of her feet. "That's great!"
Arizona was surprised by the warm hand that took her's, pulling her towards Callie's small bedroom and Callie's voice chattering, again, more to Callie herself then Arizona. "My wardrobe is my heaven, Arizona, and I will personally kill whoever that touches my babies. But I love you, so you get to borrow something."
Arizona was too busy trying to keep her ribcage from tumbling into pieces when she heard Callie say that she loved her and all the rest of the things Callie said barely grazed her ears. "Now, do you know what kind of person she is? Sporty? Casual? Sexy? I think I have a sweater I haven't worn yet and a couple of dresses…"
Arizona snapped out of her own plastic happiness as she stumbled into Callie's bedroom. "I, uh, a sweater would be okay, I think. It's getting cold and um, we're just going out for coffee."
"Okay, okay," Callie mumbled to herself, already digging into her closet and throwing clothes out left and right, "Try this on with this…and give this one a go too…oh, this will look good on you!"
Arizona smiled and nodded, and tried on everything Callie threw her way because all the clothes smelled like Callie.
…
Arizona came back from the third date with a girl she was sure was called Megan, but couldn't for the life of her remember her surname. It was a nice date.
No sex, but nice.
She'd kissed her goodnight under her apartment and called a cab. It was a strange new potential lover and strange new feelings.
And after that, somehow, she was back in her own kitchen at four in the morning, eating cheerios in purple boxers and coming to drastic realisations about Callie Torres.
She scooped the cereal straight from the bag with measuring spoons (she switched between the quarter and the half every ten minutes so that they had equal treatment). It was one of those moments of clear realization, as she afterwards labeled, her hair terribly tied in a bun that was hanging dangerously close to her left ear, that left her in a state of shock.
She loved Callie.
She really did.
Arizona was a reasonable person that always chose head before heart, and that was the only explanation that made sense.
She loved Callie and she was really fucked, because she didn't think Callie loved her back.
…
Arizona looked down at her watch. It was five in the morning and she was certain that she was going absolutely bonkers. She pushed open the door of the twenty-four-hour pharmacy and stepped inside. Their air-conditioning was set on too high.
The cereal she had ate on her kitchen just an hour ago did not make matters better either.
She strolled around and pulled her jacket tighter around herself, shivering. These stupid stores never changed temperatures, no matter the season.
She headed straight for the small rack of postcards beside the cashiers and picked out one that wasn't a typical shiny and ugly building.
She passed by the one other person in the store, and wondered what other sorry person was here in this lonely store with her in the middle of the night. It was a surprisingly happy-looking teenager with a gray backpack, wandering around like a tourist on some trip.
Arizona shrugged to herself.
And then she smiled, because she was sure that Callie would have said something poetically weird if she was here with her. Something like "this is a place where reality feels fake and the night washes away any way of grounding ourselves" or "that shadow on the wall looks like a chicken and you've always liked chickens".
The middle-aged cashier with an accent looked at her judgmentally when she came forward with a postcard and two boxes of cheerios.
By the neon lights outside the pharmacy, she found a pencil the size of her thumb in her jacket. On this postcard, she wrote her latest…epiphany. Of sorts.
The pencil had a very ugly eraser that looked chewed on.
Her thin print was wobbly on the postcard, but it should do.
By the neon lights outside the pharmacy, she left the postcard under a streetlight and walked away, back towards her apartment.
By the neon lights outside the pharmacy, the sentence on the postcard was surprisingly clear.
"If I can't love you as a lover, then I'll love you as a friend."
A gust of humid disgusting summer wind blew by.
By the neon lights outside the pharmacy, there was only a streetlight, with nothing underneath.
…
"Here," Arizona handed her last charts to the nurse behind the desk. "Night, Colleen."
The nurse took it over and Arizona grinned brightly, hiding all her fatigue behind carefully flashed dimples.
She turned around and headed towards the front doors, her step only faltering a tiny bit when she saw the pair walking in front of her.
Arizona still wondered who Callie put on makeup for, even if Callie was walking right in front of her with George's arm around her waist. Fairy tales with easy happy endings had ceased to exist long ago.
And should it really even matter, as long as Callie was happy?
These ethical questions use up too much of her brain, and she didn't have answers for everything. What she knew for sure, pretty much the only thing she knew for sure, was that she really, really, cared about Callie.
And sometimes, that was enough too.
And some other times, she would simply snuff out the cigarette between her fingers and tell herself to just let the first half of her life be this way. There was always tomorrow.
Even if she never knew what 'tomorrow' could possibly promise.
And now, Callie and George were coming closer and closer.
Really, if Arizona wasn't there for Callie, George wouldn't even had survived two months with her. But Arizona guessed that the happiness of two people could count as more then three people turning around and around.
Fuck her dignity. She didn't need that if it came down to the happiness of her girl.
Maybe it was because Callie was the first girl that made her want to give.
Maybe it was because Callie was the first girl that made her want to become someone better.
Maybe it was because Callie was grinning at her like a dork after she told Arizona about how she rocked her hip replacement surgery.
Arizona couldn't make sense of the logistics of her life. These things called feelings were too complicated.
"I'm feeling tired, I just had a six-hour surgery," Arizona said, forcing a tired grin towards Callie. "I think I'll just go home now and sleep. For a long time."
"Oh yeah. Yeah, of course, don't let us keep you."
Arizona squeezed Callie's arm and nodded at George. The man smiled and waved at her.
Damn it.
He was always nice.
That made it so hard to hate him.
Arizona let her grin drop as soon as she turned around and walked towards her car quickly. She needed pizza and a long shower.
Of which she might never come out of.
…
Three years ago, maybe Arizona would've still pursued Callie. Three years ago, Arizona probably would have told Callie how she felt even when she was in another relationship.
But that was not the person she was anymore.
She was realistic. She could admit, sometimes, that other people just might be a better fit for Callie. She was choosing Callie over herself.
Maybe Arizona just had a tendency to love everything that threatened to destroy her slowly. Cigarettes, energy drinks…
…and Callie Torres.
…
Callie woke up on the first day of march before her alarm.
"I'm going to talk to George today," Callie said by the coffee cart, almost finishing coffee in three gulps.
Mark narrowed his eyes.
"I'm going to talk to George today," Callie repeated.
Mark slowly nodded. "Okay…good. That's good."
"No, don't just say 'good', Mark!"
"What do you want me to say?"
Callie groaned, frustrated. "I don't know! Say something that won't let me chicken out again!"
Mark raised an eyebrow.
Callie groaned again, resisting the desire to pinch his arm. "There's clearly some communication problems between us! We're not talking much anymore, the last time we had sex was a month ago, and I don't feel…" she sighed. "I don't feel happy with him anymore."
"Torres…" Mark held her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "You're great. You deserve good things, you hear me?"
Callie nodded.
"Okay. Now," he clapped her on the back, "walk tall. You can sort this out. If you can't, you've still got me."
…
Callie knew that she was stubborn and complicated and overwhelming sometimes. She really had walked to the intern lockers with the best intentions to talk things out for once, to lay it all out.
She strolled past buzzing nurses and patients and for a moment, she considered asking Arizona for her opinion first. But she decided against it.
She concentrated on the good times she had with George, the Friday's they'd once wasted together, just to make sure she didn't get angry too easily in the conversation that was coming.
She was even rehearing a small speech in her head when she walked through those doors.
But her speech-rehearsing was cut short when she saw Izzie Steven's forehead pressed against her boyfriend's, her lips parted.
Callie couldn't care less about her stupid speech in that moment.
…
George saw her first.
He jerked into movement, at least taking ten steps away from Izzie with a blank look on his face.
Izzie, on the other hand, didn't move. She only turned around and had the balls to stare at Callie.
Callie had a flammable heart.
Open and flammable, but in that moment, her chest felt tighter and colder she ever felt it be. George opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but Callie beat him to it.
"You know that we're over, right?"
George stood; mouth still halfway open, wordless for a moment. Izzie paused for a moment, then walked away wordlessly. She passed by Callie, brushing her shoulder and Callie could've sworn she felt her dirty smugness tainting her scrubs. Izzie was leaving the both of them to deal with their own shit without saying anything.
It was a very Izzie thing to do.
Callie was calm, scarily calm. Calmer than she thought she could be. Her conversation and speech and everything else were cleanly forgotten. "I'm sorry, George. I'm done."
"Callie…" Callie could see him gathering his words, trying to find excuses.
She shook her head, telling him she didn't want to hear his feeble explanations.
"Callie…It was a fluke. It was never going to happen."
"You and I both know that you're lying."
"Callie," he repeated, looking at her with his big eyes. "No. Don't do this. W-We can get married if that'll prove just how much I love you."
"George—"
"I-I can go buy rings tonight and everything!"
Callie put a hand on his arm. "George!"
He stopped talking so quickly and looked at her again, this time with fear and regret. "I love you, Callie, I really do."
In that moment, Callie really understood him. His mind was somewhere else, but he was too scared to let go of the one good thing he already had. She heard him telling her he loved her and suddenly, her calmness almost faltered.
But she wasn't going to cry, not in front him. He didn't deserve her vulnerability anymore.
"George, listen to yourself." Callie's voice trembled, but she steadied it. "Last week was my birthday. And it was the first time in two months that you didn't blow me off. We sat in my apartment while Cristina had an overnight shift and you bought me that cake and lit the candles for me, you remember?"
He nodded.
"And I closed my eyes and wished that you could be everything I ever wanted in a lover, because that was how much I was into this. When I opened my eyes, you were checking your phone. And I asked you what it was."
George nodded again, not meeting her eyes anymore. He knew where this was going.
"Izzie had her first appy that day, didn't she?"
He nodded again.
"You told me that it was just a work email and then you put your phone away. And I believed you. So, what I'm asking for the last time is that," Callie watched his lashes tremble and still, he refused to look at her. "When I closed my eyes, were you wishing that you'd be able to spend the rest of my birthdays with me, or were you worrying about how well Izzie's surgery had gone?"
George slowly shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment.
Callie sighed softly. "We're over, George. You knew it before I did."
…
Why would Callie break up such a good relationship?
George was a good man. He was thoughtful and caring and respectful. He accepted her bisexuality with no hesitation.
Was it only because of one almost-kiss, one that couldn't even count as a real infidelity, he had with his best friend?
No, of course not.
What pushed Callie to break up with George despite the skeptics of the gossip that floated around was never that, even if that counted was the last straw.
It was because George had inserted too many moments with someone else into the cracks of their relationship. His heart was already somewhere else, his care was already split in half for Izzie, and the person he wanted to talk to first about a good surgery wasn't Callie anymore.
Because Callie tried to be a good girlfriend everyday. But George's love, his patience, his gentleness, all the things Callie had to fight for were the things that another woman could so easily get.
He didn't cheat on her, but there were shadows of Izzie Stevens in every thing he did. Callie had once considered marriage when George's father died because she had thought that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She wasn't going to marry George because of tradition or because 'it was time' or because he was the best choice she could have.
Callie didn't want to marry a man that was trained into a relationship by another woman.
…
What Arizona didn't write on her paper after writing about loneliness was this:
You wake up after that nap, lonely and forgotten by the world, but if you're still thinking about a certain person right away, then you shouldn't hesitate;
You really love them.
…
They were so empty, so endlessly chasing feelings.
Maybe the best anyone could wish for anyone else in this big and unforgiving world could only be so much. Maybe liking someone could sometimes only be an obvious favoritism from time to time.
Maybe the fall for Callie could only mean that Arizona would work crazy hard for to grant her a happy ending. Not them, just Callie.
And maybe that was all this time of mess and booze and money could allow her to do for any special person.
To grant them their own happy ending.
At least, that was what Arizona was thinking about in her office up until Callie knocked on her door and told her about George.
After that, she just wanted to punch the man in the face.