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Tamara. What’s her deal anyway?
Well, she’s Tori’s ex-roommate, sort-of-an-ex-friend, on-and-off hookup, and her coworker. They’ve known each other since like the dawn of time. Yet, they’ve never ever gotten that close, as fate would have it. Strangely, they just existed around each other and that was about it for them.
Which was, obviously, a big fucking lie. What they lacked emotionally they made up for in sense of physical closure. Because what else could you ask for?
Their relationship had no reason to be a discussion. They stuck around, they fucked, they fought, rinse and repeat. Using one another to blow some steam to not speak of it the next day. They’ve been at this for too long, each knows another’s quirks and kinks, what they liked in bed, how they liked to be touched. No one could top what they had, because they simply fuck in ways that seem pleasurable to them, without giving a fuck about what the other thought. They tolerated each other and knew what the other needed in these moments.
Which is why, no matter how many relationships or one-night-stands they might have with other people, when it doesn’t work out, they just end up going back to each other. A “meanwhile” thing, to be exact. Neither questioned anything.
Tamara doesn’t say much to Tori, they’re awkward at this talking thing. It’s just, they never know what to say. So, it’s mostly silent. It’s silent with a few nasty remarks here and there until someone says something unnecessary, the dam breaks and they have a big fight that ends behind closed doors. So it’s manageable.
And yet, what is Tamara’s deal? A hopeless romantic still believing in fairy tales of meeting “the one” for her, even if the hope is distant these days. It’s not obvious, Tori has just known her well enough now. She can read her like a book.
She is the type of person to get attached a little too quickly. She is, unfortunately, someone to give everything expecting something to be given in return, just like in her dream relationships. Most of the time, she’s met with a disappointment and drinks her feelings away after every breakup or fight with her girlfriends.
Speaking of her drinking habits.
Having lost both of her parents early on, she learned how to hide her feelings pretty well and push them down far away from any prying eyes. Which is why only times she can ever relax and not think about what others think of her is when she’s shitfaced and downing her sixth (seventh? Eighth? She doesn’t even count) bottle of straight vodka with nothing to eat, regretting her weekend decisions the next morning, when everyone comes to her house just to take care of her, every monday it’s the same thing. Endless nagging at her terrible choices in life while she vomits in the toilet bowl with just her underwear on, everything reeks of puke and alcohol mixed with sweat. They force her to take a shower as she just fights them through it all or laughs her ass off, not taking anything seriously.
And yet, even with everything described so far about her, Tamara was the chillest person you could meet in real life. She didn’t judge much, knowing everyone’s different and has got their bullshit to deal with. “You don’t know where a person could be coming from, why the fuck would you be picking on them when you’re no better than them? People make mistakes all the time, it’s just better to move on from them.”
And in some ways, she was right. However, this was also what almost got her killed at one point, too. By brushing off others’ mistakes she gnawed away at her own and ended up blaming herself for every other mistake someone else was responsible for. She lacked self-esteem, which meant never taking her own advises.
She’s self-destructive, she’s depressed and too proud to admit it, so her meltdowns have always been a normal thing. Which is why her love life was a fucking shitshow.
Hell, she can never think for herself, which just drives Tori up a wall. She’s so smart, yet so naive when it comes to relationships. No matter how much she may put up a wall, she’s a people pleaser. Which means that she’d go to any measures to make sure her partner is satisfied, never once thinking about what she wants, and that’s what burns her out in the end. In these relationship periods she’s mostly sober, basking in euphoria of someone’s emotional closure.
That’s another thing that Tori can never provide for her.
The reason why they just fool around and never take anything seriously is because they never once embraced one another in a romantic or comforting way. It’s always so dirty and harsh and full of force. Tori can’t deal with this romance bullshit, Tamara doesn’t care about it with her either. It’s not like they have anything official going on.
The only hugs they’ve ever received from each other were the awkward pats on the back, and that was about it. Tamara was a touchy person. Whenever she got into a relationship, Tori always took notice of how she held her girlfriends’ hands. Playing with them absentmindedly, rubbing them in a loving way, whispering sweet nothings into their ears. Rubbing their thighs, giggling when they whisper something back.
It was almost impossible how fucking cliché this relationship bullshit is. Tori never understood it. Yet, that was Tamara’s way of showing affection. She was just thankful that she never did it with her.
Although, on other hand, it was weird that she never longed for any emotional closure from Tori. Not once did she try to cuddle with her after sex or play with her hand. Not from what Tori can remember, anyway. She was always rough and grumpy around her. Was this all a part of her people pleasing nature? Or was she true to her feelings with Tori? She’d never know.
She once heard from one of her past girlfriends about their sex life back when the girl was with Tam. Apparently, she was gentle in bed? And didn’t go too far with her? “The best experience in her life”, as she was calling it. So Tamara could attend to anyone’s needs, huh? Yet Tori knew exactly why her preferences were changing so much. Because they were never truly what she preferred. Making someone think that she was the one in control, when in reality, she was the one succumbing to one’s desires. She also knew how to read through people when she really tried. When her head wasn’t drowning in her romantic fantasies.
Tamara’s favorite pastime activity, aside from photography, was playing bass. She was very enthusiastic musician, taking on gigs now and then to play in bars. After college her job required her full attention on taking photographs of models, leaving very little time to doing anything music-related. She’d sometimes bring her favorite bass to the studio, though, especially when the days seemed like they were gonna be too long and exhausting. She’d play a few songs on Steve (that’s what she called her bass) to during break times. In these moments everyone else stayed quiet, listening to her skillful fingers strum away on strings, deep tunes filling the office as they stood or sat around her.
Tori took special notice of her facial features. The way her slightly parted lips dried up as she was too focused on playing the instrument, long sandy hair pulled up with her crab halfheartedly, strands falling out as she moved her head along to the tune, her eyes closed in a relaxed manner, slightly wide nostrils especially tense, she was fully emerged into the play, after all. One could see that she was truly in a bliss. Nothing could make her feel more at ease than her Steve, and Tori couldn’t help but stare.
Tori would sometimes catch herself thinking of her at most random times. Either in a sexual way, or just analyzing her as a person. Sometimes, she couldn’t get her out of her head, tensing up at everything she does at times. She just made something in her tick, secretly longing for these same moments behind closed doors, where she could unravel herself, giving in to her desires, and Tamara could provide them for her so well. She could never truly hate her, things were complicated with these mixed moments of knowing so much about her as a person, knowing how broken she is and that Tori knew about it, none of her girlfriends ever knew what they were getting in the end, with Tamara’s fucked up self-esteem and issues, and yet admiring her as her colleague, watching her stay focused whether it be playing her bass or whipping up something incredible in Photoshop. Or just standing her ground and not allowing Tori to proceed with her bullshit at most times. She wasn't just a soppy depressed alcoholic, she had a strong character to her no matter what anyone said. And Tori admired that a little more than she'd like to admit.
When she thought of Tamara, she thought of such intense pleasures, having been spoiled by her just like everyone else were, in this sense. She wanted to tick her off, to drive her mad, she was addicted to seeing her in this light. Just staying true to herself and showing Tori everything that she’s got in her. Pushing and pulling, showing her her place. This version of Tamara felt so much more real, angered Tamara, the brutal Tamara. She could never find that amount of pleasure with anyone but her.
And at the same time, Tamara knew her boundaries and when to not cross them. Just like Tori knew her boundaries. Tamara didn’t like feeling physically vulnerable, add her short height to that, she didn’t want to seem weak. Not letting anyone else see what her true pleasure looked like. Sometimes, she slips up, though, and Tori always feels something inside her flutter, cherishing this to her core.
At one point, she cried from such strong pleasure hitting her, losing control just for a moment, letting her guard down. Tori would never forget the way she looked at that moment. It was a different side to her. A different angle of the woman she swore she knew everything about like the back of her hand. What if she could unravel Tamara the same way Tamara does to her? See her in a different light? Ah, that thought would stick in Tori’s mind at least for a month.
Having said that, fuck Tamara.
Fuck the way she looks so smug when she wins during their arguments.
Fuck her skilled fingers that Tori can’t help but feel herself shake at the sight of when she looks at them for too long.
Fuck her stupid teenager-like free attitude, and the reckless shit she pulls at times that Tori always plays into, when given the chance.
Fuck her friend groups and how she can’t ever have anyone normal she considers her “homies” around her.
Fuck her plump lips that she wants all over her body, sharp teeth biting deep into her skin, that always stink of alcohol no matter how much mint gum she chews on in a day to get rid of, she has this smell engraved into her senses by now, recognizing when she’s around a meter away.
Fuck the way she always puts up such useless fights to defend her pathetic ego just because Tori dares to try and challenge her, filled with hatred and disgust. The feelings that Tori’s more than happy to reciprocate.
Fuck them both, in fact.
Tori stands outside, finishing her second cigarette now. She throws it on the ground, stomping it out with her heel as she turns to walk away from her usual smoking spot.