Callie had her hands full with grocery bags when she crossed the threshold into Arizona's apartment for the first time.
The first thing she noticed was the smell. It smelled like white tea and something sweet, maybe vanilla, a little woodsy and clean like a high end hotel. The scent wrapped itself around her, so charmingly Arizona that Callie immediately decided she liked it.
The second thing she noticed was how neat it was. Arizona's bookshelf was arranged alphabetically by author, throw blankets were folded pristinely over the back of the couch, not a single dish littered the sink. Everything was so light, a mosaic of pastels and neutrals. It almost looked like an apartment staged for a Zillow ad, which also, strangely enough, felt so Arizona, though admittedly a little less charming and a little more annoying.
Callie found herself wanting to run her hands over it all, scrunch up the blankets, rearrange the books. Leave just a tiny piece of herself behind. I was here, and something changed.
The pieces of Arizona's home that made it feel lived in were subtle, but they were there. Picture frames on the wall held an idyllic blonde family, and Callie saw them for the first time. Arizona's marine father, stoic in every photo, standing tall and strong over his family. Arizona's mother, a clone of her daughter, with dimples and blonde hair that was slowly edged out by gray as the pictures grew more recent. The older brother that had nearly gotten Arizona arrested once, a mischievous glimmer in his blue eyes, looking so much like trouble that Callie almost understood what had turned Arizona so willful in the first place.
And then there was Arizona over the years, a mix of both baby faced with missing teeth and beautifully poised as she grew up before Callie's eyes. She was an adorable child—smiley and picturesque with chubby cheeks. Callie wondered what it must have been like to grow up that beautiful, to never go through an awkward phase. To never have been the girl that drew on her jeans in the back of class.
Arizona's life looked so perfect, full of birthday parties and softball games and a family that absolutely adored her. Jealousy plucked at her.
How strange, Callie thought, that Arizona loved her family enough to fill her walls with them, to call them every afternoon, and still not speak about them. She was so, so confusing, almost impossible to figure out.
She made her way into Arizona's kitchen and let the groceries in her arms plop onto the counter, wasting no time in making herself at home in the space. She started unloading the groceries and humming under her breath, opening cabinets and drawers and pulling out the supplies she needed. "You have nice pans for someone that can't cook."
"I think they're just nice because I never use them," Arizona giggled, leaning against the counter next to her. "But I'm glad you approve of my pans, chef."
"I'll teach you how to use them one day."
"Teach me now."
Callie glanced at her, and she looked so exhausted, bags settling under those blue eyes. She shook her head. "No, another day. You should shower before your parents get here."
Arizona's mouth fell open a little, feigning offense. "Excuse me? Do I look bad?"
"You never look bad. You've just been in surgery all day. You'll feel better." She arched an eyebrow. "Tell me I'm wrong."
Arizona's eyes just narrowed. Callie held up the bottle of white wine she had just picked up at the store. "I only need a cup of this for the sauce. I'll split the rest with you when you get out." She grinned. "Go. Let me cook. The peace and quiet will be nice."
"Yes, chef." Arizona rolled her eyes and pushed off the counter where she leaned.
Callie was left alone in the kitchen, and she busied herself with preparing dinner. She threw herself into it, the way she did with everything— she was always all or nothing. It was one of the reasons she loved cooking so much: There was no sense in half assing it. If she was going to spend the time and do the work anyway, might as well make the end product worth it.
She was in the middle of making the sauce when Arizona returned to her. Her hair was wet, the familiar scent of her shampoo blanketing Callie's senses, and she had changed into sweatpants and a faded, oversized NASA sweatshirt that made Callie laugh. "I forget how much of a space nerd you are."
"That just means I'm not being nearly annoying enough about it," Arizona laughed and hoisted herself up onto the counter next to Callie, letting her legs swing. She picked up the glass of wine that was already poured and waiting for her, and she took an indulgent sip.
"Impossible."
"Did you know you can see about 2,000 stars with the naked eye from any place on earth? Only on dark nights though, and away from light pollution. And did you know stars don't actually twinkle? It's just an illusion from the earth's atmosphere being so turbulent. And did you know that the brightest star in the constellation Cygnus, Deneb, is 19 quadrillion miles away. And we can see it so easy. We can see 19 quadrillion miles away—"
"Christ, I get it. Point proven."
Arizona laughed. "I can go all night."
"Last time you said that sentence I couldn't walk straight for three days after, so I'll take your word for it."
Another laugh, and her dimples appeared this time. Callie was thrilled to see her looking so much lighter than she had only an hour ago. "I'm not apologizing for that."
"Even if it was mediocre sex?"
"I think we've established I didn't mean that," Arizona said, rolling her eyes. "I was just mad."
Callie reduced the heat to low, letting the sauce simmer, and finally turned her undivided attention to Arizona. She let her hip rest against the counter where Arizona was perched, and she grinned up at her. "You are a delight when you're mad."
"Must be why you make me mad so much," Arizona huffed out a laugh, hooking one of her legs around the back of Callie's to pull her closer. Callie's hands fell to her waist and Arizona's fell to her shoulders. She liked being the taller one, for once. "Thank you. For doing this, for cooking. For being here. All of it."
"You don't have to keep thanking me. If there's ever a way I can help you out, I wanna do it."
"I can make it worth your while. Show you how much I appreciate it." A flirty look entered her blue eyes and she parted her legs a little, hands sliding to the back of her tan neck to tug her closer.
Callie had to fight a frown. She loved sex with Arizona, she really did, but the understanding that Arizona used it as a way to hide herself, as a way to experience intimacy without vulnerability, complicated it a bit for her. Especially when she'd had such a bad day. "You don't owe me sex for this."
"Are you seriously turning down fucking me on my kitchen counter?"
"Your parents will be here soon. And I'm gonna burn the sauce if you distract—"
"Oh my god, you are." It was Arizona's turn to frown. She let go of Callie, letting her palms rest against the countertop, and leaned back a little to get a good look at her. "I know the sweats aren't the sexiest but I look the same with them off."
"Don't you want your parents to like your fake girlfriend?" Callie asked, a meticulously shaped brow arching. "Because I do, and I really don't think walking in on us naked in the kitchen is a great first impression." Arizona just rolled her eyes, and Callie laughed. "Don't be such a brat. I think the sweats are sexy, by the way."
"Whatever." She sulked back dramatically.
"I do. I've never seen you look bad in anything. Even a dorky NASA shirt."
"I look better with it off. Come take it off me."
"Arizona," Callie's gentle laughter spilled out of her as she breathed out her name, shaking her head. So fucking persistent. She stirred the sauce simmering on low.
"We can be quick. We've gotten good at getting each other off fast."
"I really want your parents to like me."
"Please."
Callie swallowed. She had a bad, bad feeling that if this woman used the word please, she would give her anything she wanted every single time.
Casual, Callie reminded herself.
She sighed and pushed the saucepan off the heat to keep it from burning. She stood between Arizona's legs. "If dinner sucks, I'm saying you made it."
Arizona's face lit up at her victory. "They'll be thrilled with anything that isn't frozen lasagna," she giggled, sliding her hands up to cup Callie's face, thumbs brushing across the soft skin over her jaw in a way that made the space behind Callie's ribs ache.
Casual.
Callie felt herself being tugged up and their lips met in the middle in a messy, rushed moment of unification. Arizona felt a little more frantic than usual, less composed or in control, like Callie was the only answer to shutting her racing mind off.
A distraction. She was a distraction.
She was letting herself be a distraction.
Which didn't feel great, but Arizona's mouth felt better than that felt ruinous, so she didn't stop it. She let it happen, let her hands fall to Arizona's hips and grip them ardently, pulled her to the edge of the counter and kissed the hell out of her.
She was trying so hard to let this be what it was: meaningless sex. But that was getting more and more difficult when Arizona was this beautiful, when she made her laugh harder than anyone, when Callie was standing in the middle of her apartment for the first time and felt so at home.
Callie didn't do casual. She didn't know how to and she wasn't built for it. Exactly nothing about her was casual, and nothing about Arizona made her want to stay casual either. But it was casual or nothing. Nothing more or less or in between, and she wasn't sure if she could handle being nothing to Arizona.
She was suddenly cognizant of what a terrible fucking idea meeting her parents was. Nerves jabbed at her for the first time, inconvenient little needles poking holes in her haphazard plans.
She could feel Arizona's hands move to her hair, her nails dragging along her scalp lightly, and it brought her back to her body and out of her head. Callie broke the kiss, and her lips moved to the spot against Arizona's ear that she had learned worked like a charm every time. Including now, if her sharp gasp was any indication.
Her hands slid up her sweatshirt, over the warm skin of her tight abdomen, to the swell of her breasts, where her thumbs brushed over her hardened nipples. Arizona moaned and her head fell back, leaving her neck exposed to Callie's mouth, which immediately found its rightful place as messy kisses were pressed into the hollow of her throat. Her skin still tasted faintly of her body wash.
Arizona's hands fell to the counter beneath her, nails scratching into it a bit as she started to squirm under Callie's touch, so sensitive and so ready. She let out a whine when the stimulation started to feel borderline torturous, hips jerking a little reflexively. "I need you," she rasped, and that was all it took for Callie to give in to her. That and Arizona grabbing her wrist, pushing it down, always so needy.
Their lips found each other again, eager and familiar. Kissing Arizona like this was beginning to feel second nature—hands groping, tongues down each other's throats. It was the rare pecks that startled her, the ones that usually came after they had both already gotten off. They'd be helping each other redress, fixing the other's hair or makeup, and their lips would sometimes meet in the middle in a chaste kiss, gentle and quick. Those kisses were never sexual, and they certainly weren't friendly. They were in their own category completely, and they took her by surprise every single time.
They never acknowledged them. They never acknowledged a lot of things. It was part of the deal.
Callie's hand slid past the waistband of Arizona's sweatpants and she grinned against her mouth at the way she shivered, the way she was nearly trembling with how much she wanted her. She dipped two fingers inside of her, just barely, and used them to spread her wetness to her clit. She rubbed slow, lazy circles there.
The carnal noises that she elicited from Arizona's throat were divine, heavenly, obscene. Callie would have stayed there worshiping at the altar between Arizona's hips for hours if the world let her, if time was kinder to them, if there wasn't someone knocking on Arizona's door.
Callie pulled her hand away and Arizona's eyes shot open, spine straightening. She was breathing heavily, cheeks flushed pink, and she let out a frustrated little groan at the cruel timing. "God, no. They're early," she whined, and she kind of looked like she could throw a tantrum about it. "Fuck. God damn it. I would have come in 5 more minutes. Maybe 3." She hopped off the counter and started to fix her hair and her clothes, grumbling on her way to the door. "This isn't over. We will be finishing that later."
Callie held back her laugh and washed her hands, busying herself with finishing up dinner. She was trying very hard to look more put together and less discombobulated than she felt on the inside. She focused on slowing the erratic rhythm her heart had fallen into, using her diaphragm to take deep breaths as she listened to Arizona greet her parents.
Her mom sounded sweet, doting. She kept calling Arizona my baby. Callie could almost hear her pinching Arizona's cheeks and smothering her with hugs. She spoke to Arizona in a way that Callie's mom had never spoken to her in her entire life. Callie counted three compliments in the first minute: my baby, you look so beautiful. You've grown into such a pretty girl. Oh, you've always been a pretty girl, but you just get prettier. Your apartment looks wonderful, honey, I love what you've done with the place. I'm so proud of you. I've missed you so much.
Callie couldn't imagine what her own mother would do if she answered the door in sweatpants with wet hair. Probably keel over and die. Then reincarnate just to lecture her. Not that her mom would ever show up to her door anyway.
Arizona's dad sounded considerably more stoic and much quieter. He called her young lady and, once, champ. But he sounded happy to see her too.
She heard Arizona's mom ask where her girlfriend was, and she heard Arizona mention the kitchen, and then they were standing in front of her, a bit older than they were in the pictures on the wall.
"Hi," Callie squeaked, then cleared her throat. She plastered a warm smile on her face. "Dinner is almost ready. I'm Callie. It's so nice to meet—"
She was cut off by Arizona's mom wrapping her up in a hug, and she was so surprised that she went a little stiff at first. She forced her muscles to relax and hugged her back.
"I'm Barbara, honey," the older woman beamed up at Callie. She looked so much like Arizona that it felt like looking into a portal of the future. Same eyes, same dimples. Arizona would age beautifully.
"Colonel Daniel Robbins," Arizona's dad held out his hand. Callie made sure to shake it firmly. He seemed like the kind of man that would respect that. He studied her closely, eyes narrowed as he formed his opinion of her.
"Call him Daniel," Barbara rolled her eyes with affection. "Oh, you are just gorgeous, Callie. I'm so happy to finally meet you." She glanced at her daughter with a warm grin. "She's so gorgeous, honey. Stunning."
Arizona blushed. "She is."
Callie's turn to blush.
"I know you said she's beautiful, but I really think you understated it. Wow. She is radiant." Barbara gave Callie a soft pat on her back. "Is there anything I can do to help with dinner, dear? It smells wonderful."
"No ma'am. I'm just getting it plated now. I hope you guys came hungry."
"Starving."
"Excellent," Callie smiled. "Please, sit. I'm sure you've had a long day traveling. Do you need anything to drink? Water? Wine?"
"You're a better host than the actual host. Wine would be wonderful, sweetheart."
"Hush, mom," Arizona said with an eye roll, looking through her small collection of wine for a red her mom would like. She picked one, opened it with a corkscrew, and poured a glass, dropping it off at the table in front of her mom.
Arizona helped Callie with the plates of food, and all four of them sat at the table. Callie took her spot next to Arizona and across from Barbara. "I hope it's good."
"It looks delicious. Thank you, dear. Arizona's never cooked anything like this for us before."
"I've tried."
"I'm gonna try to teach her how to cook," Callie laughed and took a bite, relieved when it tasted exactly how it was supposed to.
"Barbara tried, believe me," Daniel chuckled. "Arizona just preferred running around with Tim or helping me mow the lawn."
"I do love yard work," Arizona giggled, and Callie had to push images of a sweaty Arizona in a tank top out of her head. "Cooking is just so boring. I don't like to stay still that long."
"You stand still for 12 hour surgeries all the time," Callie teased.
"Yeah, but surgery isn't boring. That's the difference."
"I'll find a way to make it like surgery for you, then."
"Callie," Barbara cut in, "this is delicious. My god. She can cook and she's beautiful. You picked a good one, honey. Keep her."
"I'll try, mom," Arizona rolled her eyes. Her voice lowered a bit as she looked at Callie. "It really is so good. Thank you."
"It's not a problem. You know I love to cook."
"What do you do for work, Callie?" Daniel interrogated, and Callie shifted a little in her seat. God, she wanted them to like her. For Arizona's sake, of course.
"I'm a surgeon like Arizona. Orthopedics though. Bones instead of babies," she laughed airily and took a sip of her wine. "I moved here from Miami to be the head of the ortho department at Seattle Grace Mercy West."
"Is that how you two met?"
"No, actually," Callie stole a glance at Arizona, who was keeping quiet, chewing on the inside of her cheek. It was a nervous habit, one of her tells. "We met at a bar and she made me sing karaoke. Then she made me trespass on a beach. She's an excellent influence," Callie giggled, giving Arizona's knee a reassuring squeeze under the table. "The moment I saw her, I thought that is the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I had to know her. I met her that night and my life just…changed. My world suddenly revolved around her."
Not a single word was a lie. Arizona had an odd expression on her face, softer than usual, almost shy. Her hand fell to Callie's on her knee, their fingers intertwining as they continued to eat. "Don't let her fool you. I wouldn't leave her alone until she talked to me," Arizona laughed sweetly, gaze locked on Callie. Then she really sold it, tugging Callie's hand to her lips to kiss the back of it.
The yearning that filled her was disconcerting.
"You two are so sweet. I'm so happy for you, darling," Barbara watched them both with a loving look in her eyes, nearly beaming.
They fell into easy conversation as they finished dinner. Callie learned that Arizona's mom was a librarian for 40 years, instilling a deep rooted love for reading in her daughter. Callie knew she liked to read, but it wasn't until she saw her bookshelf that she realized just how much. Emma by Jane Austen was apparently her favorite book, and Callie made a mental note to read it. Barbara loved to knit and she promised to make Callie a scarf, despite her protests. Her dad liked to hunt and fish—Arizona had gone on exactly one hunting trip with him at 11 years old, and she had cried so hard over the dead deer that they had to come home early.
Callie stood and began to collect the empty plates when they finished dinner, and Barbara looked at Arizona with an expectant grin. "Floats?"
"Duh," she stood up and helped Callie, and Callie just smiled dumbly and pretended she knew exactly what they were talking about.
Once they were alone in the kitchen, Callie started to wash the dishes in the sink and Arizona stood next to her with a dish towel, ready to dry. "Root beer floats. Family tradition," Arizona explained with a soft laugh, keeping her voice quiet.
"That's cute," Callie handed a dish over.
"It was kind of me and Tim's thing when we were little."
"That's sweet. You'll have to send him a picture, make him jealous."
Arizona went quiet and focused on drying the plate in her hands. She set it on the drying rack and cleared her throat. "Do you want one?"
"Sure. I can't even remember the last time I had one."
Arizona pulled four clean glasses down and moved to the fridge, collecting vanilla ice cream and cans of root beer.
"Do you think I'm faking it okay?"
If Callie didn't have her back to Arizona, she might have seen the way her face fell at her question. She might have seen the way she rolled her shoulders back and had to steel her expression back into something on the pleasant side of neutral. "Yeah, they believe it. They like you too. My dad doesn't usually talk this much."
"Really?" Callie smiled in relief. "They're so nice. I kind of feel bad for lying."
"It's okay. The night's almost over, we're almost through it, and you won't have to worry about it ever again. I promise."
Callie nodded, missing the slight edge in Arizona's voice, and opened the drawer in front of her, pulling out 4 spoons. They each carried two glasses back to the table. Callie slid her chair a little closer to Arizona and rested her hand on her lower back, rubbing gentle circles there.
"There's something I need to tell you girls," Barbara said suddenly, and Arizona's mouth slowed as it wrapped around her spoon. Her head shot up in concern.
"Are you okay?"
"Relax, honey. I'm fine. Everyone is fine. You doctors always jump to the worst," Barbara waved her hand around with a laugh. "Your father and I will be married for 40 years next month. We're renewing our vows in the mountains at this darling little resort a few hours from here, and we want you there. Both of you."
"Oh," Arizona gulped. Callie could feel her muscles tensing a bit under her hand. "Surgical schedules are really hard to coordinate—"
"We'll be there," Callie interrupted her. "We'll make it work."
Barbara's face lit up. "Oh, I knew I loved her." She reached across the table to give Callie's hand a motherly squeeze. "Arizona, could you get me another glass of wine?"
Arizona groaned. "Mom, I was just in the kitchen—"
Her dad cleared his throat strictly and Arizona immediately shut up. She grabbed the empty glass and went to the kitchen without another word, not daring to argue.
Barbara moved quickly, digging into her bag to pull out a card and a small wrapped gift. She kept her voice quiet. "Callie, dear, could you make sure these get to Arizona on Wednesday? I know, I know, she doesn't celebrate her birthday, but she's my baby and I can't stand not getting her anything."
Callie blinked and took them, trying as hard as she could not to give away that Arizona's upcoming birthday was news to her. She remembered Mark telling her about Wallace and the birthday they shared—the birthday Arizona no longer acknowledged out of guilt. "Of course," Callie mumbled and hid the gift away in her purse.
"Thank you. And honey?"
"Yes ma'am?"
"Thank you for being so good to her. She looks so happy. I've never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at you. She's been so closed off since Tim died, and we've been so worried she would never…find anyone, or let anyone find her."
Guilt gnawed at her, beat against her ribcage, tried to escape out of her mouth. She had a horrible feeling she had just learned something that Arizona wasn't even kind of close to talking about on her own yet. "She deserves incredible things," she said, because it was the only thing she could think to say that wasn't another lie.
Arizona returned and they fell back into casual conversation. Callie's eyes kept drifting to the pictures on the wall, sharp twists of empathy churning in her stomach as she looked at them in a new light.
There was one of Arizona in the snow, no older than 5, wearing a tiny pair of skis as Tim stood next to her protectively. Another of them at Chuck-E-Cheese, stickers on Arizona's cheeks and a paper crown on her head as she blew out her birthday candles. Tim was behind her, watching with a huge grin. Another of them roller skating down a neighborhood street. Another of them at Arizona's high school graduation, Tim beside her in a military uniform.
Arizona was smiling in every picture with him. They looked like best friends, two halves of a whole.
Callie had been so blinded by how perfect her family looked that she had never considered the possibility of Arizona experiencing actual, tangible loss. She had spent so long being jealous, jaded from her poor relationship with her own family, that she had found Arizona's closeness to her parents irritating. She felt like shit about it now.
Of course Arizona's parents called her every day. They only had one kid left.
It was near 10 when Arizona's parents stood up to retire to the guest room for bed. Callie stood too, rubbing at her eyes. "I should probably head out. I had a wonderful time—"
"Oh, nonsense. You don't have to leave just because we're here, Callie. We aren't uptight about that kind of thing. You're adults," Barbara laughed and pulled Callie in for a hug. "I am so, so happy to have finally met you. I'll see you at breakfast."
"Sweet dreams, girls," Daniel gave Callie a firm pat on her shoulder, proof that he approved of her, and the older couple disappeared into the guest room with their luggage.
Arizona blinked up at her when they were finally left alone. "You don't have to stay. I can make up something in the morning."
"I mean, I don't… you drove me here. I'd have to get a cab."
"Oh." There was an awkward, strained silence between them that Callie hated. But then Arizona smiled softly. "I have a spare toothbrush and a spare set of your clothes. C'mon."
Callie followed her toward her bedroom, an amused grin on her face. "My clothes?"
"Mhm, from that first night. I kept them."
"You still wear them?"
"Sometimes, to sleep. They're comfy." She opened a drawer and pulled out Callie's old college sweatshirt, neatly folded. She pulled the sweatpants out of a different drawer and passed them off to her. "I want them back. You're just borrowing."
"I'm borrowing my own clothes?" Callie laughed as she changed. Arizona was leaning against the door frame to her bathroom and watching her with a smirk.
"Nope. They're mine now." She turned and disappeared into her bathroom, messy blonde curls bouncing. She was opening a package of toothbrushes when Callie joined her, and she was handed a pink one.
They brushed their teeth side by side in silence, and something about it was so intimate and domestic that Callie averted her gaze every time their eyes met in the mirror. She left her toothbrush next to Arizona's after she spit into the sink, pink joining blue, and Arizona seemed a bit unsettled by two toothbrushes being there.
They crawled into Arizona's bed, into her blue sheets. Callie left space between them, ensuring their bodies weren't touching. The room was lit only by the soft, warm glow of a bedside lamp, and Callie snuggled underneath the covers. It was so soft and warm and smelled like Arizona.
The blonde wasn't settling in though. She was sitting up, chewing on her lower lip and staring straight ahead. Callie furrowed her brows. "Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry. I won't be able to sleep for a while. You sleep, I'll be quiet."
"Oh. That's okay." Callie pushed herself up a little, watching her closely. "Why? I can go, Arizona. I don't mind."
"It's not you," Arizona replied quietly. "I lost a kid today. I have nightmares when that happens. So I usually don't sleep."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Okay. Do you want to watch a movie until you're tired?" Callie offered. "I won't even make you watch a scary movie. We can watch Titanic or The Notebook or something else more your speed."
Arizona twisted her face up a little in distaste and laughed. "Ew. I've never seen either of those."
"What?" Callie gaped at her in surprise. "Seriously? You seem like the romcom type."
"Romcoms, sure. If they're funny. But not those sappy movies." Her nose scrunched. "I don't believe in that stuff."
"Stuff? What, love?"
"Yeah," Arizona shrugged and slumped against her pillows, lips pursing a little as she contemplated. "Maybe that's an oversimplification. I believe it exists, I believe people have had it. I just don't believe it's ever worth the risk. I think people always walk away with less than what they started with."
Callie studied her, and her words came out before she could think about them. "I was married."
Arizona's expression morphed into surprise. "What?"
"Yeah. Back in Florida. Married, then divorced." She swallowed, feeling vulnerable. "And it was a disaster. You have no idea. I was betrayed and humiliated and it hurt so fucking much. But it also… it made me stronger and it taught me a lot and I think it made me who I am now. I don't feel like I walked away with less."
Arizona finally turned her head to meet her eyes. Callie kept talking before she could be shut down. "What I'm trying to say is that it's worth the risk sometimes."
Arizona stared at her in silence for a few moments, a complication of emotions swirling in her eyes. Callie was almost scared she had pissed her off from how unreadable her face was. Instead of replying verbally, she reached for her TV remote. She searched for The Notebook and pressed play without a word.
Arizona watched the movie the whole way through and cried at the end, curling into Callie's side for comfort. Callie held her, rubbing her back in soothing circles until she finally fell asleep.
Arizona slept, and the nightmares didn't come.
A/N: anyone else starting to feel like two weeks and your mom invites me to her long beach house? anyone else starting to feel like is it casual NOWWWW?
As always, thank you for reading and i sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter. thank you for the incredible response to this story so far, it really helps me stay motivated. hope you guys have a fantastic weekend :)