AN: Hey fellor readers and writers! Long time no see and I am really sorry for the lack of updates. My life just got super busy and on top of that, I got sick right when I was ready to end my hiatus. I can't promise you that I will update weekly or even every other week, simply because my life changed a lot within the last year. However, I will write whenever I have some time and feel inspired.
Thank you for your patience and the reviews, pms and follow. They make my days!
We had something to eat before heading back to Miami in her father's private jet and I have to agree, it was nice to not hobble through the whole airport on the crutches. It does have its perks. Especially since George was allowed to drive onto the private section of the runway and Callie and I were in the car within two minutes. But I can admit, my hands are not used to the excessive pressure and I find myself flexing my sore fingers every so often. But Dr. Renner has strictly forbidden me to put any weight on the leg.
"I think today was a good day", Callie says as I try to find my way around my new smartphone. It's way better than my last one, more advanced and fancy new little features that the nerd in me absolutely likes. The aversion of letting her pay for the phone is slowly fading. It has not fully disappeared yet, but I am working on being okay with it. "Is something wrong?"
"No, everything is fine. My hands just ache a little and I am kind of tired", I tell her when I glance up from the screen. "I guess I should get used to it, right? For all I know, I'll be walking around on the death-sticks until classes start again." About an hour ago, I have received an email with the notification that there won't be any classes at Harvard Law School for another ten days. Which doesn't really surprise me. Everyone is still shocked. Heck, you had a nightmare, Robbins. "But I agree, today was a good day."
"Do you want me to massage your hands? I could give it a try", she offers with a shrug of her shoulders before getting up from her spot in the armchair. I have my injured leg propped up on the coffee table and just watch as Callie sits down next to me, instantly taking my left hand in hers. "They must be hurting." Placing a gentle kiss on each knuckle, she then starts the massage.
A groan leaves my lips the second her fingers start kneading my palm. It's painful, but at the same time, it's so good. "That's the spot", I grit out through clenched teeth when she hits a particular sore muscle. Warm eyes meet mine, apologizing that she's causing me pain.
"I wanted to talk to you about your nightmare", the brunette starts. "I know you've told me what happened in it, but, that's not what I mean." Wondering what comes next, I just tilt my head and look at her. "It might be a good idea to find someone professional to talk to."
"You want me to go to a shrink?", I question disbelievingly and want to pull my hand away from hers, but she stops me. "I had one single nightmare, it's no biggie, Calliope."
She sighs before she answers, "It was only one nightmare so far, Arizona. You've been through a shooting, you've been shot and you witnessed people die. It's called trauma for a reason, physically and emotionally. I'm not saying it has to be a shrink or that you have to go for the rest of your life, I just want you to consider it. Working through it with someone that specializes in trauma is not a bad thing, it might actually help."
I know she's right. And you hate it, A. She definitely has a point, but seeing someone and to relive it again and again doesn't sound very pleasant to me. "I'll think about it, okay?", I reply. "And if I have more nightmares, I'll go, I promise." She nods and I want to say more but I am momentarily distracted when my phone chimes in my lap. "Oh, a review!", I say with a big smile when I check my phone. It always makes me happy when I get the notification that someone commented on one of my stories. Most of these past few weeks, I got a lot of messages, readers asking for updates and I feel really bad that I am not as dedicated to my writing as I have been before I actually met the gorgeous actress. Yes, law school plays a big part in my lack of updates as well, but whatever free time I have, I want to spend it with my girlfriend.
"What does it say?", Callie asks with genuine interest as her hands continue to be working on mine. It's a good massage, really. I can feel the pressure of her thumbs but it's manageable. "Is it a good one?"
I skim over the words and then freeze for a second. Feeling the blood shoot into my cheeks, I avert my eyes from the brunette. It's one of these reviews I assume probably every fan fiction writer who writes about two women as a couple has had.
"Arizona?"
"It's uhm..." I've had similar reviews a couple of times before. I don't mind them, that's not the problem, it simply always catches me off guard. "This person asks if the couple would possible use a strap-on at some point." I have written sexual content before – lots of it, Arizona – but never anything where the couple uses a toy.
Callie's fingers stop moving for a moment as she throws her head back in laughter. It fills the air like a beautiful song. At first I think she is laughing at me, but after a few seconds I realize that she isn't. This whole situation is just funny. And honestly, her laughter is so intoxicating, I can't help but start laughing myself. Good one, Robbins.
It takes a few minutes for both of us to calm down and I put the phone on the arm of the couch. "That was quite funny", I say, still giggling and explain that I have never written anything that involves sex toys. To be fair, I don't think I will ever dive into that topic in my stories, but who knows?
"It was", she agrees and goes back to massaging my hand before she nonchalantly adds, "The real question is, would that be something you'd be interested in?" And just like that, I once again choke on my own spit and feel the heat rising into my cheeks. What?
"Right there! Fuck, Callie!" It feels like she's getting better at reading my body every freaking time. "I'm close", I rasp out against her skin, my fingers dig into her thighs and I can feel the impending orgasm about to crash down upon me. But her tongue is relentless, flicking my clit and bringing me higher and higher. My grip on her thighs tightens as I try to bring her pleasure, too. Callie's grinding her sex against my lips and tongue with fervor and the echoes of our moans seem to become louder and louder until both of us finally reach our peeks.
For what feels like minutes I am trying to calm down my strongly beating heart. The room is filled with rapid breathing as we both come down from a very blissful and euphoric high. My leg is a little stiff and I will most likely be sore tomorrow. So worth it, A. Callie manages to turn around and lies down beside me, pulling me closer to her. And as the moon filters through the gap of the curtains, illuminates the Latina's wonderful curves as the pale light dances across her skin, I snuggle deeper into my girlfriend's embrace. In my past relationships – well, in your first and only relationship, Arizona – I found cuddling after sex as something that was requested of me. I did it, but I did not really like the feeling of sweat against sweat. But as many things, with Callie, I feel different. I want to feel her sticky and hot skin against mine for as long as possible. I want the chance to linger in the most intimate position for as long as I can because I know I have to leave Miami and her in a few days. "Can I ask you a question?", I wonder as tan fingers play with my hair.
"You can ask me anything, baby", she hums before pressing her lips to my temple and inhales deeply. Did she even realize she called me baby? "Is something bothering you?" Her hand glides down over my back and moves towards my stomach, stroking it gently on the way.
"Why didn't you come out before?" The words are in the air for a moment and none of us says a word making me instantly regret that I asked. Shit. After all, it should not be my business. She had a life before this relationship; a life lived in public where such news affected a lot of people and maybe even her work. I know that she has been in two relationships before, one with another woman and a short one with a guy, when she was younger. "I'm sorry, it's not really my business. I am just curious why now, I guess."
Brown eyes keep staring at me for another minute, maybe more, before Callie replies, "It's okay. I'd be curious too. It's just kind of a sore topic and I'm not entirely sure I want to get into it tonight." She stops and it looks like she is collecting her thoughts. I am about to tell her that we do not have to talk about it tonight – at all, even – but she opens her mouth before me and starts telling her story. "Nelli and I had been in a relationship for almost two years when I got my first job as a supporting act. It was a tiny role, really. When my career kicked off after that, she stepped back and told me that we could go public when I felt it would fit. So we had dinner dates at home, vacations at my family's private residences – not this one, because she doesn't like Miami – and it all felt good. There was no pressure from her and I honestly admired her for that. Then, one night when she came home after being out with her friends, she threw everything I did wrong in her eyes in my face. She accused me of never actually wanting to go public, ever, that I was too afraid to do that." Callie pauses again. Delicate fingers are playing with the bed sheets that covers our bodies, and I feel that she needs some sort of distraction. "In fact, I had planned on suggesting coming out to the world, I just wanted to finish the project I was filming at the time. But Nelli broke up with me that night. And then she came back a couple of days later, begging me to take her back. As stupid as it might sound, I did. I thought I loved her and I thought she loved me just as much. A few weeks later, I found out that she had been with at least two men since that night and only came back for the money and the fame. Needless to say that that was it. I haven't seen her since, but she dumped a big pile of trust issues on me that just made it impossible for me to come out to everybody in the world. Especially since I had no reason to do it. Until you."
I don't think I have closed my mouth after Callie got to the part about Nelli accusing her of all these things and then pulling of crap like that. That is just a horrible thing to do, to anyone, but especially to someone as kindhearted as the gorgeous woman lying next to me. "I can't even… I am so sorry, Calliope. Nobody deserves that." What a stupid woman. I just want to find her and give her a piece of my mind. "I can understand your hesitation. But why now? Why so shortly after we clarified the status of our relationship?", I asked.
"Because of you. You make me want to hold your hand in public. I want to be able to give you a kiss whenever I want and not look around before to check if someone might see us. I don't want to hide anymore. I am done hiding. I-", stopping herself. Callie shifts on the bed to sit up and locks her eyes with mine. "Have you ever been in love before, Arizona?"
A little dumbstruck from her question, I just stare at the gorgeous brown-haired woman – her hair wild and unruly from the rounds of pleasurable fun in the sheets – wondering what she means. "I- I don't know? I don't think so." Sure, I had relationships and crushes. But the butterflies that everybody keeps talking about have been missing, until I met Callie. "Have you?" Big question, Robbins. But she has asked you the same.
God, I'm so rusty, I know. I still hope you like the chapter?