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She didn’t get that whole “itch to touch” thing until that exact moment. Her fingers usually didn’t itch. Her whole body with the chicken pox? That was itching. Touching someone. That was just need.
But Arizona had turned onto her side and the little smile she’d had when the lights were on had twisted into a frown and she’d stared blankly at nothing and Callie had itched to touch her. Itching was a compulsion. Something so irresistible people hurt themselves in an effort to satisfy. That’s what she’d been compelled to do. To reach out and pull Arizona into her arms. She’d brush a few fallen strands of hair out of her face and tell her how much she loved her and how beautiful she was and Arizona would get it. She wouldn’t flip over and look all shattered as soon as she thought Callie wasn’t watching. She’d actually hear Callie and believe her.
And then they’d make love. And it wouldn’t be awkward. Arizona wouldn’t cry. Callie wouldn’t cry. They wouldn’t have to start slow or spend precious time rediscovering each others’ bodies. They’d just slide into one another like nothing at all had changed.
But Callie couldn’t touch her wife. As soon as she’d reach out Arizona would flinch. That righteous and near constant anger at Callie would flare and they’d be three steps back again. Not even talking as they went to bed. Or smiling.
God, Arizona had smiled and Callie had wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss all the stupid fear right out of the woman.
Why couldn’t Arizona just get that Callie loved her? Why couldn’t she see how gorgeous she was—or at least trust Callie to tell her the truth?
Why couldn’t she just…trust Callie at all?
She flipped over on her back and folded her hands across her stomach.
That was the problem wasn’t it? Arizona still didn’t trust Callie. Callie had promised to save her leg and she’d failed and now her wife, the only person in the world she could ever imagine being with forever, didn’t trust her.
Hell she could barely even listen to her! Callie would have given up a limb of her own in that moment to have her wife finally understand her again. She missed that maybe even more than the sex.
Maybe.
She was really horny.
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Callie’s muscles always seemed to dance beneath her touch. Her hands would roam over that perfect skin and she’d feel the muscles jump and coil and relax. All because Arizona touched her just the right way.
It made Callie addictive. Even when Arizona wasn’t sure about an actual relationship or a commitment or whatever she was positive she could sleep with Callie Torres the rest of her life and never get tired of her.
Next to her leg Callie moving against her and being oh so vocal with her sighs and giggles and screams was what Arizona missed the most. She didn’t just miss sex. She missed sex with Callie, who moved for her like a well-tuned instrument. They could be furious with each other on any matter of things, but they’d fall against one another and lips would caress lips and fingers would slide into warm, dark places and everything was okay. It was a salve.
Too bad her wife could barely touch her.
Callie said she was beautiful and she’d looked at her so lovingly that Arizona had almost felt it. It was that smile and that little sarcastic “you know better” tone, but mainly the smile. Callie had a smile that glowed and the way her eyes studied Arizona while she smiled—like it was all just for her. It was magic. Then she’d leaned in just for a peck on the cheek.
There’d been something in the moment. Arizona had felt something in the moment but Callie had done little more than brush her lips against Arizona’s cheek and the moment had dissolved.
And it was Callie doing the dissolving.
It was easy for Arizona to get. A lot had changed but she could still read Callie pretty well, and her wife just wasn’t there. She wasn’t ready to be attracted to Arizona again. Smiling maternally like she did at Sofia and being so very chaste. Callie showed her love. She expressed it with a raw sensuality that could turn Arizona to liquid in a heart beat. She didn’t hold back. She never held back. A kiss on the cheek was supposed to be a precursor to something beautiful. Not an end to the night.
Callie told her she wasn’t dumpy. That she was beautiful. But Callie couldn’t even touch her. What was gorgeous about a woman who couldn’t even muster lust in her own wife?
Behind her Callie’s breathing slowed as she fell asleep. Used to she would have curled up against Arizona with her arms wrapped around her waist and the two of them sharing a pillow. Instead Callie slept like a mummy on her side of the bed and Arizona curled up into a tight little ball on her side of the bed.
All she wanted to turn over and find Callie watching her. Then she’d whisper that she wasn’t so fragile and Callie would tell her she was too beautiful and she’d pull Arizona close and they’d kiss languidly and pity wouldn’t flicker on Callie’s face when she undressed her and Arizona wouldn’t struggle not to vomit from all the nerves. Callie would then let her hands roam all over Arizona as she dipped to kiss her neck and her fingers wouldn’t pause as they ran over her thighs and the sensation wouldn’t terrify Arizona and they’d be just Callie and Arizona again and everything would be okay.
But Callie was asleep and Arizona was left feeling lumpy and dumpy and incredibly horny.