[identity profile] burningeden.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] burningedenfanfic
Title: Sorbet (1/1)
Author: Chelle
Rating: PG
Pairing: Callie/Arizona Callie/Mark
Summary: What was going on in Callie's mind when she asked Mark for sorbet?
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer in my profile at [livejournal.com profile] burningeden_fic.



~*~*~*~*~*


The couch feels like it is floating on a very turbulent sea. Letting Cristina Yang keep refilling my Windex colored drink at Joe's was probably not the smartest idea I've had. It didn't even taste good, but I couldn't bring myself to hurt her feelings. I know how that feels and I can't dish out what I can't take. I hurt. My feelings. My heart. My soul. My entire being. It's nauseating. I'm sick all over, but it's not just from the alcohol.

I lower one foot to the floor to try and steady myself. The foot massage Mark gave me earlier didn't relax me at all.

I kinda had a suspicion that Arizona was in touch with Teddy. I'd see Teddy checking her phone at random times and more often than not she would glance my way with a look of pity. Or guilt. Maybe Teddy's guilty that Arizona is sharing everything with *her* and not with me. I didn't realize until tonight, though, when Teddy confirmed it ... just how much it kills me to know that she is in Arizona's world and I'm not.

I should be the one hearing from Arizona, you know? I should be the one sharing her accomplishments and listening to her bitch about red tape or the weather or whatever the hell she's telling Teddy. That should be me. No, I didn't want to go to Africa and leave my life behind, but I was willing to do it. I've always been willing to do everything for Arizona Robbins.

She wanted me to be a better lesbian and not a newborn so I clocked so many hours watching lesbian porn on my laptop that my internet service provider contacted me to make sure I was aware of it. Not only was that humiliating ... I had to lie and blame it on a brother I don't even have. But I learned stuff. For her. I learned how to touch her, what made her crazy, and most of all ... that I could do it without feeling awkward or clinical. What porn didn't teach me was how to make love to her and that was all me. I did that. It went beyond sex and it was amazing. While I was touching her body she was touching the very core of who I am even when her hands were fisted in the cover.

She wanted me to prove that she could trust me so I deleted every phone number from my phone that could possibly upset her. If she caught me looking at something on my Blackberry I would show it to her immediately to quell any suspicions she had. I put on invisible blinders in public with her and only had eyes FOR her. And I told her repeatedly what she meant to me. I went out of my way to never, ever give her a reason to doubt my feelings for her. All along ... I should have been the one doubting her feelings for me.

She wanted me to swallow my pride during the time that my family disowned me and to lean on her. I did that, too. I let go of my independence and let her buy dinner. I let her treat us to movies and repeatedly stock my refrigerator even though I was humiliated that she had to do so. It was mortifying and degrading to have to explain why I was only drinking coffee for lunch and not eating. I let her take care of my bills when I couldn't and all the thanks in the world didn't make up for the fact that I couldn't do anything like that in return for her. And I know that's what couples do, but I grew up believing that you have nothing if you don't have your pride.

She wanted me to meet her circle of lesbian friends and I happily went along. Even though they made me feel like an eternal newbie and referred to me as 'Arizona's Apprentice' more times than I can count ... I kept seeing them. I let them condescendingly explain phrases or references that any fool on the planet could understand and I would smile and nod in all the right places. I even tolerated their jokes about the men in my past and subtle hints at Arizona 'strapping one on' for me. I learned their names, their entanglements, and would give up time for myself to make sure that Arizona knew I was doing everything to fit into her world.

She wanted the apartment painted beige and even though I had painstakingly decorated it before I ever met her I relented. I did all the work myself while she was pulling a double shift. I thought the final result bordered on a Candyland board game, but she loved it. Seeing her love it made me love it so I didn't mind the aches in my shoulders from the manual labor in the least. I didn't even mind feeling like I was walking into cotton candy every time I came home. It was for her.

What wouldn't I do for her?

I gave up the idea of having babies, but she promised we would. Ten kids, she said. Ten kids and chickens and a dog and a house that would be decorated 'less frowny' ... all for her. For us.

You know what I think? I think Arizona Robbins is selfish.

She is.

Wait ... no she's not. I'm just pissed. I can't hold her decision to go to Africa against her.

I really need to just go to sleep.

You know what? Actually I can hold her decision to go to Africa against her. What about me? What about the life we were building? What about the promises we made? What about living together? What about her taking me home to meet her family and me doing the same? What about Fiji and Spain and sitting beside one another on lazy Sundays to do the crossword puzzle in the paper? What about forever? She said we had forever. She swore that we were unbreakable.

This is the second time that Arizona has walked out of my life and not looked back.

The first time was because I wanted kids with her. I wanted to build a family and she didn't. While I was crying in the janitor's closet after seeing her in the halls everyday ... she was perfectly fine. She'd greet me with 'hello, Calliope' like we were mere coworkers who had not shared everything.

This time she has left me for Africa and she's telling Teddy everything and not even mentioning me.

I go crazy worrying about her, praying for her safety, thinking about her and wishing I could just look at her one more time.

And she's not even asking about me.

The me who was left behind with no home because we rented out our apartment, who had no job because I had resigned, and whose luggage still hasn't returned. The least she could do is ship my luggage back, right?

The more traditional route of hating her guts would be such a small comfort, but I can't even do that right.

WHY IS THIS ROOM STILL SPINNING!?

From the corner of my eye I see Mark come out of his bedroom and head into the kitchen.

I love Mark. He's the best friend I've ever had and he takes care of me. He's reliable, funny, and ... great in bed.

I can't keep dancing alone. I don't want to sleep alone tonight. Not tonight. Not after realizing how unimportant I am to Arizona after all.

I stand up and walk into the kitchen. My gaze moves over the expanse of Mark's bare shoulders, over his muscular chest, and down toward the line of hair below his belly button.

He can make me forget. I know he can.

Turning from the refrigerator, he notices me and says, "Oh. I was just thirsty. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Oh, no," I assure him. "I was awake."

I look at the chiseled slope of his back as he offers me a glass. "Water?"

I sigh. I can't believe I'm doing this again. Why does my life have to play on repeat so often when I really need it to fast forward? "I want ... uhm ... sorbet."

"Sweet tooth?" he asks, turning toward the cupboard. "I think I have some cookies around here somewhere."

"Mark," I say.

He gives me his full attention again and I know that I'm pleading with my eyes. Sorbet. Sexual sorbet. The kind that Bailey mentioned over drinks. I want sex. I want the dirty, no strings attached, grunting, grinding, pulling, pushing, and hard sex that we are notorious for. The kinds where our bodies are in it, but not our hearts. Neither of us can get hurt. It's just a good time.

"Oh. Ohhhh." He finally gets it and a cocky smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Really?"

This is it. Time to get her out of my mind the same way I tried to cut the memory of her fingertips out of my hair. It's time to give up my body to someone else. I can do this. I need to do this. "Really," I mutter softly.

When he sets his glass down on the counter and studies me I know that he knows why.

The girl at Joe's only wanted the number of the hairdresser.

Arizona left the country and didn't look back.

My biggest fear with her was abandonment because I've been abandoned so many times. And she made that fear my reality.

Her biggest fear was that I would have sex with Mark again. And it's time to make that fear *her* reality.

Even if she never finds out, I'll know. I don't even think it's about revenge. It's more for me ... because I need to feel needed right now.

His mouth crushes onto mine a moment later. It's scratchy because of his beard and I flinch, but deepen the kiss anyway.

He pulls my shirt off and helps me get rid of my skirt.

When my chest presses against his I steel myself for the lust that will shoot through me.

But it doesn't come.

I go through the motions like a tired acrobat who dreads each tumble.

Sorbet is supposed to taste sweet while it cleanses your palette.

All I can taste is bitterness.

All I can feel is cold.

All I can see ... is her.

All I can hear is her voice.

All I can touch is Mark Sloan.

I'll never be touched again.

~*~*~*~*~*
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