Fanfic: The Way You Make Me Feel (1/2)
Title: The Way You Make Me Feel (1/2)
Author: elpmas03
Rating: R (just to be safe)
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: So I absolutely loved 6.20, but it was a little depressing at times with all the angst (that I still loved). Sooo, I was in the mood for a little fluffiness and this is what I came up with. It’s from Callie’s POV and the next part will be from Arizona’s. Hope you like it!
Callie
I love the way you wait up for me.
I remember the first time we had this little argument; you had just finished a 30 hour shift and looked exhausted, but of course in all your glorious stubbornness you insisted on waiting up for me back at the apartment. I yelled at you (or at least I tried to without cracking a smile at your adorable pouting) and threatened no sexy time for a week if I came home to find you awake. That quickly brought you to agree to my request and everything was settled…or so I thought. Coming home to find you asleep in bed, I took a few seconds to watch how peaceful you were-your body lazily draped across much of the bed, your blonde curls splayed across the back of your pillow while you laid on your stomach facing my side of the bed. It wasn’t until I tried getting into bed until I realized how devilish you really are. You made sure to drape your arm across where you know I lay; you made sure to leave the covers on my side tucked in; you made sure to curl your leg over the place where mine usually reside. You made sure I would have to wake you up when I got back…and you succeeded, of course.
I love the way you work.
I have never met a doctor, or a person for that matter, that cares more than you do. About everything…your family, your friends, me…but most importantly about your job. Because to you, it isn’t a job; it’s a piece of you that makes you who you are. I have a confession to make-some days when I have a particularly hard case or am just in the need of a way to make my day a little brighter, I watch you. I drift down the brightly lit peds hallways and look for you. And when I find you? I feel myself melt at the way you look at them; the way you play and laugh and teach them about life outside this hospital. About all the good in the world that you give them the opportunity to see. You are the reason they get to play and laugh and learn and for that you are a rock star with a scalpel.
I love the way you look after making love.
Being from a wealthy family, I’ve gotten so many opportunities to travel the world-I’ve seen deep blue waters of Greece, the white, sandy beaches of Spain, and miraculous sunsets of Miami. But even after all of the places I’ve been and the things and people I’ve seen, nothing compares to the way you look when I’m finished with you. You always have this look in your eyes, one that makes you look so spaced out and oblivious to the world around us. You often clamp your eyes shut, focusing so intently on catching your breath while I watch your chest heave up and down and listen to the faint sound of your pulse slowing down. Your body seems to shimmer from the thin layer of perspiration that covers your exposed, flawless skin and your bangs are damp and clinging tightly to your forehead. You look so safe, sated, and at peace with your body and it’s by far the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I love the way you make the little things special.
I know you feel silly doing these things sometimes, but to me it shows that you care. You once told me you loved the way I cared like crazy and believe me when I say that the feeling is mutual. It might be a little note on my pillow, or a cup of coffee waiting in my locker for me in the morning, or a playlist you create for me as a surprise on my iPod. Either way, it’s the little things that make me feel the most special. I could care less about the fancy jewelry and the extravagant, expensive dinners; to me, it’s the small, intimate things you do that mean the most.
I love the way you take your time.
I’ve had sex with a handful of people in my life and it’s been every kind of sex. It’s been raw, sensual, even animalistic at times, but it’s always been sex. Sure, I’ve felt that connection to one or two people, but no matter how strong it was, it’s still always been just sex. But with you it is so much more. You take your time, breathing in, exploring, tasting every part of my body like you could never get enough; like it’s new every time you do it. The way your eyes turn a shade darker with each inch of my exposed skin they find; the way your fingers dance over my skin, caress the most intimate places, find spots that nobody else has ever taken the time to search for. It is the sexiest, most loving and affectionate thing I’ve ever seen and ever will see because no one but you will ever make love to me again.
I love the way you play.
For the most part, the way we connect in bed together is sensual and soft. It’s gentle and slow because we both make sure to soak in every moment we can. But then there are those rare times; those times when the lust and need consume us both and the only thing we can think about is how quickly we can tease and make the other squirm underneath us. You have this sexiness about you that is so unique and rare to find; it’s as if you don’t know what you have and that fact alone makes you so much sexier than anyone around you. You’re modest and shy when you catch other people looking at you with that hunger in their expression like you don’t really understand what they see. But then again, they really don’t’ get to see. Nobody is allowed to except for me. I’ve never wanted to be that girl and to be honest, I’ve never felt the need to be, but something about you makes me so possessive and protective when I can pretty much see them calculating in their heads how quickly then can get in your pants. It’s an innate feeling I get, as simple as breathing or blinking, and I always feel special when you play with me. When you try to seduce me into my bedroom by stripping off clothing as you walk, only to be gently tackled to the floor a few seconds later and taken right then and there, giggling at my sudden hungry outburst. It all makes me feel special because I know that nobody else gets to see you this comfortable with yourself; this vulnerable and exposed for me to take and I know that nobody else can make you feel like that. And that is sexy.
I love the way you look at me.
I’ve never met anyone with more expressive, perfect cerulean eyes than yours. I remember when we first started dating and I would look up from the nurses station I was filling out a chart at and catch you seeing me. Not just looking, but actually seeing me. You would smile shyly and pretend to be suddenly worried about your shoelaces being tied tighter, but I always knew you were watching. And even though we’ve been together for a long time now, you haven’t stopped seeing me. Sometimes it’s at the cafeteria table and there’s that familiar lustful glint as you watch me sip my drink; sometimes it’s a loving, affectionate, adoring gaze as you watch me watch you, our noses barely touching as we lay facing each other. No one has ever seen me the way you do and I love every minute of it.
I love the way you try for me.
We all do things we may not enjoy for the people we love, but I’ve never known anyone who does as much as you. After that disastrous birthday party I threw for you and your confession about your hatred for celebrating birthdays overall, I wasn’t expecting to walk into Joe’s on the night of my own birthday only to find the tiny bar full of our friends and people we work with. It was so cute, the way you acted like it was no big deal and rolled your eyes when I teased you about finding a sudden interest in celebrating birthdays. It was even cuter the way you whispered later that you would only do it for me and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more loved in my life.
I love the way you wear my clothes.
It’s become a bit of a ritual when we get back from work together and get ready for bed. I brush my teeth and wash my face first while you change and then we switch spots. There was one night when we were both supposed to get done with work at the same time, but I got slammed with an emergency just as we were walking out. It was the first time in two weeks since we had said ‘I love you’ that we wouldn’t be sleeping together and I remember you shyly confessing that you were worried you wouldn’t be able to sleep alone. When I came back and found you wearing an old college t-shirt of mine and nothing else but your underwear, clutching my pillow to your chest, I felt that familiar flutter in my stomach-I may have even squealed? You whispered to me a few minutes later, clearly groggy from your half-asleep half-awake state, that you needed to smell me next to you to fall asleep. Any other time, I’m sure you would’ve been embarrassed and laughing at how creepy you sounded, but the way you obviously had no idea what was going on was the most adorable thing ever. We still have that same ritual, but now instead of slipping into your usual pair of plaid pajama pants and t-shirt, you always reach for that same outfit even if I’m right there sleeping next to you.
I love the way you make me feel.
I’ve been broken so many times that it’s become a natural thought for me, when I first start to date someone, that it’s going to end in my abandonment. Right away, I knew it was different with you. The way you walked toward me, so confident on making me feel better that night, and kissed me with not a care about anything around us. You picked me up and put me back together and you didn’t even know me. I remember thinking, if you would do something like this for a stranger, do you have any limits for the people you love in your life? It didn’t take me long to figure out the answer to that question because it didn’t take long for me to feel like I could do or be anything I wanted to. You make me feel so whole and safe all of the time with just a look or a touch. You protect the things you love and for that, I love you.