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i.
She’s perched cross-legged on his bed; the covers that they were messily entangled in last night were now wrapped around her body covering her bare legs that were barely shielded by Oren’s oversized t-shirt that she snagged from him. The fabric of the shirt swallowed her body — accentuating the height difference between them as the shirt fit rather fittingly on Oren but brushed a few inches past her knees.
It smells like him; a mixture of the Downy laundry detergent that he always uses because they make his clothes extra soft and the Calvin Klein cologne that he wears. The smells seep deeply in the fabric even after a few washes the smell of him is still there. And Tasha can’t help but smile as a memory of her wearing this shirt only months ago wanders around in her mind.
It was right after they’d broken up.
She found the shirt neatly folded in her drawer along with her clothes, probably there after she’d worn it back when they were together as she was always stealing his shirts and hoodies.
(They’re more comfortable, she would shrug insouciantly much to Oren’s amusement as he shook his head and playfully chided her for being a thief but truthfully never really minded because he thought she looked way better in his clothes than he did.)
Tasha picked up the shirt and sighed softly.
Knowing that she had to return the shirt to him because he was now packing up and moving in with Ethan to give her and Jess their apartment back. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t necessarily need to leave, because this place was just as much his home as it was theirs, but he was adamant on his decision, assuring them that he was fine temporarily living with Ethan until he found something on his own.
Tasha grabs the shirt and retreats down the hallway to his bedroom.
They’ve been helping him pack his things all week; carefully storing all of his shoes in their respective boxes. His bedroom was nearly vacant now except for his bags that were placed by the door and a picture of the four from where they went ice skating last year that he had hanging up on the wall.
Tasha stood in the threshold watching as Oren shoved the last few articles of clothing that he had in his drawers into his bag, murmuring low profanities under his breath as he struggled to stuff everything inside.
He cackled a triumph, “Ha!” after he successfully pushes the handful of shirts inside and manages to zip it up without hassle.
Tasha bites on her bottom lip, smiling as she watched him throw his hands in the air and danced around a bit.
She was going to miss this, she was going to miss him.
Oren turned around and jumped startled when he sees Tasha standing there. His hand rested over his chest as he gaped trying to catch his breath. “Geez, Tasha, what are you trying to do give me a heart attack?”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt your,” She gestured towards him, raised an eyebrow. “Celebration?”
His cheeks flushed in a chagrin at the realization that she witnessed him dancing. His hand rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck, his eyes abashedly lowered to the floor.
“I was just-”
Tasha chuckled as she walked further into the room, now standing directly in front of him. “Don’t worry, I still find your dorkiness cute.” His eyes wandered up at hers as she says this and she began to wonder if he heard the soft adoration lilting in her voice when she said it. She harrumphed softly, “Anyway, I, uh, I just came in here to return this to you.” She held the shirt out towards him and watched as his eyes widened.
“I’ve been looking for this since forever!” He says, squinting his eyes at her as he playfully reprimands, “I should’ve known you had it.”
Tasha rolled her eyes, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. Just be glad that I’m giving it back. That was my favorite shirt.” She pouts, sighing deeply.
Oren’s eyes fleeted back and forth between Tasha and the shirt. He smiles softly as he extended the shirt back out to her in offering. “Keep it.”
“What?” She blinks, a little aghast.
Oren shrugged, “It looks better on you anyway,” He lowered his eyes again, smiling a little sheepishly, “besides, you’ll need something to remember me by in case you end up missing me.” His voice goes a little solemn and soft as he says this, making Tasha’s heart clench.
This wasn’t easy for either of them.
She wishes it didn’t come to this because she wants him here more than anything. But she understands why he needs to leave, it would be awkward and hard for them to cohabitate after being broken up. They need this space as much as they were both reluctant to admit.
“I am, you know,” She admits, elaborating further when she notices the confused furrow of his brow. “going to miss you. I’m gonna miss our late night talks, us sneaking in the kitchen and eating all the snacks, our sleepovers,” She laughs at the way his cheeks deepen in a blush at the innuendo.
(Their sleepovers were anything but them actually sleeping. They’d switch off nights bouncing back between her room one night and his on the other. It always started off innocent with them watching a movie but then Oren’s hand would find its way on her thigh or she would kiss him unexpectedly and they’d end up underneath the covers, writhing against each other’s bodies as they ascended one another to their la petite mort.
It was always slow and quiet; consisting of hushed whispers and pleading whimpers in caution of not wanting to wake Jess up. And in the morning’s he would wake her with chaste kisses on the forehead along with a platitude of “good morning, beautiful” that always made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world.)
They were good together. What they had was good. She honestly doesn’t know how or when it all got so complicated.
With his cheeks still rosy and pink, Oren manages to meet her eyes again. There’s a softness that lingers in them; a look that she immediately recognizes because it’s the way he always looks at her. And it still makes her stomach flutter nervously with butterflies and her knees weak in the same manner like it’s always done.
“I’m gonna miss you too, Tash.” He murmurs softly, his lips parting slightly like he wants to say something else but eventually decides against it and gives her another small smile instead.
They just stand there looking at each other. And his stare is beginning to get overwhelming and is starting to smother her. And then she sees his eyes lower to her mouth and for a second she believes that he’s about to take the initiative and just kiss her like she’s inwardly begging him to do.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he takes a step back as he turned away from her and looked at the span of his empty room instead.
“It’ll be like I’m still here because I’m going to be over here all of the time. So, maybe it won’t be too bad.”
Tasha smiled a little wanly, “Yeah. Maybe.”
She ended up keeping the shirt for awhile until she had to give it back to him because it reminded her too much of Oren; reminded her that she couldn’t just stealthily tiptoe down the hallway and crawl into his bed anytime that she wanted, or that she would no longer wake up to the feeling of being wrapped in his embrace as he spooned her from behind.
It was a reminder than he was gone.
…
“Hey, Tash, you forgot the syrup.” Oren says as he saunters inside of the room, balancing his plate of food, his drink and the bottle of syrup in his hand. He kicks the door close with his foot before hobbling over towards the dresser.
Tasha leaned forward and grabbed his plate, setting it down on the bed next to hers to avoid the chance of him inadvertently dropping everything. He offers her a sheepish “thanks,” as he sets his glass of orange juice down on the nightstand.
He sits down at the edge of the bed next to her, the mattress sinks a bit at the additional weight then plops back in shape after he situates himself. He pried open the bottle of syrup and drizzled some of it onto his pancake.
“Thanks for breakfast by the way,” Tasha ripostes appreciatively, biting into her strip of crispy turkey bacon. She swallows the tender chewed up meat, shifting her gaze over to him. “And for last night… I really needed a friend to talk to after everything with Jess.”
Oren’s face falls despondent a bit as the word friend emanates from her mouth. He knows it was presumptuous and foolish to believe that after last night she would want to reconcile and get back together but there was a small part of him that clung onto that naïvety and desperately hoped she would.
He’s a little disappointed at this trivialization because they both know that they’re way more than his friends but he also knows that regardless of his feelings he couldn’t pressure Tasha into something that she wasn’t ready for and to him it seems like she isn’t ready to be with him again.
So instead of being the doting boyfriend that she confides in he was the friend offering her advice and support.
He missed her terribly. It seems as if ever since he moved out she’s been keeping her distance from him. He doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not but it fucking hurts. It wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else’s heed because she still talks to him but she doesn’t touch him and barely even look him in the eyes and sometimes seemed peeved at his presence whenever he was around.
After she came over last night he reveled in the fact that she was opening up to him again; seeking his comfort and presence.
They talked for hours.
Something that they used to do back when they were together. (Oren’s loquaciousness always gave them something to talk about and Tasha would always listen to his sometimes nonsensical rambles that sometimes ranged to his current sneaker purchase to a new documentary that he just watched; it didn’t matter. She would sit there and listen, smiling all fondly like a girl in love. And at the time she truly was.)
Their talking lead to them watching a movie on the couch; with her head tucked against his shoulder and her body pressed against his.
It was the closest they’ve been in months.
He gave her a spiel that consisted of a juxtaposition of her and Jess’ friendship to Steve and Bucky’s. It was choppy at best but the idea still worked and when Tasha turned her head and pressed her lips against his cheek and imprinted a chaste kiss there he knew that she appreciated his words and company.
Them hooking up last night was the last thing he expected but he surely wasn’t complaining. It was just as intimate and sensual as all their prior times –– both familiarizing themselves with the other’s bodies again after being deprived of the other for months –– then moving in a easy tandem as they find their rhythm with Oren reciprocating everything that Tasha gives him and more leaving them both satiated and left with unresolved feelings.
When he woke up this morning and saw her tucked against his chest it felt like old times. He smiled as he looked down at her face; then reached up to push a few flyaway pieces of hair from her face.
He wanted this again, wanted her. But he knew it would take time for them to get to that point again.
Oren nodded, giving her a small smile, trying to conceal his sullenness as he looked at her. “You’re welcome. You know I’m always going to be here for you, Tash.”
And she doesn’t doubt that sentiment for one second.
“Are you going to try to text Jess? I’m pretty sure she feels just as upset about this as you are. I think this treasure hunting thing’s really getting to her and has her all stressed… uh, what’s–what’s happening?” Oren’s eyes widen slightly when Tasha reaches over and snags his plate from him. She sets both plates aside, forgotten on the nightstand before crawling over to him and straddling his lap.
The hem of his shirt that she’s wearing hikes up a bit as she maneuvered on top of him causing it to brush further up her exposed thighs. She wraps her arms around his heightened neck, looking into his eyes only briefly before leaning forward to kiss him.
Oren melts the moment their lips brush against each other’s. He swallows Tasha’s content sigh that she breathes into his mouth, wrapping one hand around her waist as he held her steadily against him while the other cradled her face within his grasp.
They kiss slowly and suavely, with Oren’s lips moving delicately against hers. The taste of the tangy orange juice that she took a sip of earlier is passed between their mouths, its sweetness is tangled as Oren parts his lips and seeks after her tongue, sucking on the sensitized flesh. Tasha moans softly, leaning into the kiss as she loses herself in the feeling of him.
He’s doing most of the work: kissing her with vigor, making her senses completely disoriented and hazy. His fingers curve tighter around her waist, sliding up and down her back coaxing shivers out of her. He’s insistent heeding each of her lips with a softness that has her crooning.When they part to catch their breaths, Oren’s eyes are dilated and a little hazy, his chest rises and lowers laboredly, his lips red and plumped kiss-swollen.
He licks his lips before clearing his scratchy throat. “Not that I didn’t enjoy that,” He begins cautiously, watching as a smile widened across Tasha’s face.
“But?” She murmurs, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip where a bit of syrup had messily transferred on his lips.
He shrugs, “But,” and he pauses, stopping himself from asking what did all of this mean because she’d already told him what they were; friends. And he’s certain her viewing of their relationship hasn’t changed that hastily within a span of a few minutes.
So he swallows down the rest of his words, leaving them unasked and forgotten.
Tasha captures his mouth in another kiss, it’s deeper this time and consists of her tongue messily intertwining with his. She nips at his lower lip, sucking on it within the grasp of hers before releasing it with a soft pop. Oren’s barely caught his breath before she begins kissing him again.
He hastily gets intact and is reciprocating her ravenous kisses, groaning softly in her mouth when she slides further up his lap.
“Ethan’s still here,” He whispers lowly, pulling back to gauge a look at her as she begins tugging at the hem of his shirt in attempts to pull it off of him.
She bites on her lip and smirks, pecking a quick kiss against his mouth. “Well I guess we’ll just have to make sure that we’re really quiet then.” She murmurs, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as she slid her hand underneath the shirt and brushed her fingers against his torso, touching the chiseled tautness of his muscles.
“You’re a bad influence, you know,” He chastised with no actual malice behind his words as he lifts his arms and tugged the shirt off of his body. He plucks it aside somewhere absentmindedly forgotten on the floor.
Tasha chuckles, “I don’t see you putting up much of a fight against it.” She’s now got her hands sunk into his curls, her fingers run through the soft tuts of hair.
“That’s because it’s impossible to say no to you,” He congresses, feeling her mouth tut upward in a roguish smirk against his lips. I’m still in love with you sits on the edge of his tongue threatening to spill over in a confession.
But just as he’s been doing all day, he hides behind his feelings knowing that nothing more would come from it.
Their clothes wind up in a pile in the middle of his bedroom floor; forgotten and haphazardly thrown aside until they’re both naked and underneath his covers again, writhing and grinding against each other.
…
“Who’s that?” Oren surmises indignantly. His eyes narrowed inimically, his lips tutted upwards in a lour as he sat at their table watching some random guy openly flirt with Tasha.
She’d gone over to the bar to order another beer when the guy suddenly approached her, all caviler and suave as he greeted her with a smile before leaning next to her against the counter. He couldn’t exactly hear their conversation all the way from across the room but from the way Tasha was laughing at whatever he was saying, it was clear that she found him amusing enough to want to talk to him.
Liam, who’d been off for the night and decided to accompany them out for a night of drinks, brought his bottle of beer up to his lips and took a large swig, smirking as he watched his friend very indiscreetly hide his feelings for his ex-girlfriend.
“That’s Jonas, he’s a regular here.” Liam explains, throwing his gaze across the room to where Jonas and Tasha were. “He’s cool,”
“I thought you and Tasha weren’t back together?” Ethan laments curiously, leaning forward and grabbing a fry out of the tray, lathering it in ketchup before popping it into his mouth.
Oren averted his eyes away from Tasha and Jonas, now looking between Liam and Ethan who stared at him waiting for his response. “We’re not but-” He pauses, pursing his lips in a thinned frown. He sighs deeply, lowering himself in the seat as he slid down, his shoulders slumped sullenly. “I know it’s probably pathetic to still be in love with her especially when she’s made it perfectly clear that she wants us to be just friends, but I can’t help the way I feel about her.”
“So go tell her.”
And of course Liam says this as if it’s that easy. Because had it been that’s exactly what he would’ve done months ago. But it wasn’t; not when she’s adamant on keeping things strictly platonic even though he knows that she’s still in love with him too. It’s evident in the way that she looks at him –– he knows this because that’s the same way that he looks at her; full of adoration and mirth.
“I can’t,” He sighs defeated, wearily running his hands down his face.
“Why?” Liam rebuttals, “Dude, anyone with eyes can see that you two still love each other. I don’t know why you broke up in the first place but I can tell that you’re both hiding from your emotions because you’re scared. And I get that because being in love is scary but it’s worth it when you find someone special. I know Tasha is special to you so get out of your head and go get your girl,”
Oren would be lying if he said that Liam’s words of encouragement didn’t give him the boost of morale and gusto that he needed. It meant a lot to him that his friends were being supportive in his quest of getting Tasha back.
(And that they had more confidence than he did.)
Liam’s right.
Tasha is special; she’s the first person he’s ever truly fallen in love with and the one person that understands him more than anyone else. She knows him in ways that he doesn’t even know himself, and has always been there as someone he trusted.
Maybe it was time for him to confess his feelings.
And just as he begins to stand up from his seat so that he could approach her he’s sullenly slinking back down after he sees Tasha grab the guys phone and put her number in.
…
She’s on the couch with a big bowl of buttered popcorn tucked at her side and her laptop plopped on her lap as Bridgerton played on the Netflix screen. She’d been indulged in the period piece romance/drama television show when there’s a sudden knock on the front door that interrupts her moment of solitude.
With a sigh, she plucks the bowl of popcorn onto the table before clambering to her feet to answer the door. “Who is it?” She questions, standing on the tip of her toes to look out into the peephole where she sees Oren standing on the other side.
She unlocks and unlatches the door, pulling it open. “Hey,”
“Hi,” He walks past her and enters further into the apartment. He stops just at the threshold lingering just by the living room. Tasha closes and locks the door behind him before returning to her respective position on the couch.
“You want to watch with me?” She asks, grabbing her laptop and adjusting it back on her lap in front of her. “It’s the first season so you might have to sit through me drooling over Regé-Jean Page the entire time,” she smirks, digging into the bowl and grabbing a handful of popcorn, stuffing it inside of her mouth.
Oren rubbed at his neck as he shook his head. “Actually, I just came by to talk to you about something.”
At the seriousness that lilted in his voice, Tasha could tell that something was bothering him. She paused the show again, then shifted her body around so that she’s fully facing him with her attention heeded on him.
“What’s up?”
Oren’s face contorted in an expression that she couldn’t quite gauge; his bottom lip worried between his teeth as he nervously writhed his hands.
He was making her nervous. Had something happened to Jess or Ethan, she wondered.
“You mean everything to me.” He says after a moment’s silence; finally averting his eyes upward to look at her. “You always have and the other night when we… I didn’t expect us to get back together but some part of me thought that maybe it meant something to you like it did for me. I hoped it did.”
“Oren—”
He chuckles softly, “I’m still in love with you, Tasha. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you. And I’m sorry if this is a bad time because I know you’ve moved on and I’m happy for you because you deserve to be happy.”
She was speechless.
She didn’t know how to respond or what urged this sudden love confession from him. But it certainly did surprise her to hear.
Her silence must’ve made him think of it as a rejection because suddenly he looks defeated and heartbroken. “I should go,” He murmurs, turning away and heading for the door.
“Oren,” Tasha calls out after him.
She clambers off of the couch and approaches him. “Hey,” he only has to lift his head up halfway to meet her gaze; there’s a sullenness flickering in his pupils as he stares out at her.
She wants to tell him that she feels the same way, that her feelings had never gone away not even when they were broken up. Oren had been her first love, the first guy that’s made her feel special and wanted in every way.
When they broke up; it was a rash and unthought of decision on her part. She got scared and decided to end things to protect herself. She doesn’t even fully know what she was scared of; maybe it’s because sometimes Oren’s love for her felt overwhelming but not in a bad way, in a way that she’d never experienced before and it made her scared.
When she broke up with him she knew that she broke his heart.
It wasn’t intentional; that was the last thing she ever wanted to do. Oren was too good of a guy for her to ever purposefully hurt. And even though she knew she did that; he still wanted to be her friend through it all.
Friends.
That’s how she trivialized things between them. Even though she was still deeply in love with him.
The night she came over and they had sex she felt this reconciliation between them. It felt like how it did before — before she got scared and let her emotions overpower her, it felt like when it was good. And if she was being honest she missed that; the good moments between them, being with and around Oren.
It wasn’t the same when they were just friends.
She wanted him in the same way that he wanted her. (Probably even more.)
He’s a little taken aback when she kisses him, but he’s kissing her back almost instantly, pulling her body against his as he chases her mouth. He pulls away to catch his breath and stares at her a little dazed.
“I love you too,” She confesses. “I never stopped either.”
He breathes softly, his heart squeezes against his chest. “You do? But what about that guy at the club?”
Tasha’s face affixes in a confused frown until the realization dawns upon her. “You mean Jonas? What about him?”
Oren shrugs, “I saw you putting your number in his phone. I figured you two hit it off.”
Tasha laughed at Oren’s pout which only deepened further in confusion. “I didn’t give him my number. He was asking for recommendations for somewhere to take his girlfriend for their anniversary. There’s this guy I know from high school that works at this fancy restaurant downtown so I gave him the number so he could make a reservation.”
Oren’s face flushed in chagrin at this realization. “Oh,”
Tasha grabbed his face and kissed him, smiling. “I only have eyes for you if you hadn’t noticed by now,”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” She smiles, “only you,”
…
Bridgerton’s long forgotten and they end up stumbling their way into her bedroom; kissing messily and feverishly as they tugged at the other’s clothing. He’s gentle; caressing and fondling every inch of her body, praising her like a goddess that he worships.
And they fall into that familiar synchronicity; their bodies mold perfectly into each other like they were made for one another. She feels him everywhere, feels the emotions he pours through the gyrations of his hips, how he tightens the hold of her hands as he intertwined their fingers.
They’re sweaty and slicked with each other’s body fluids after they’re done. She’s got her head on his chest listening to the thrumming of his heart as he lulls from his post release.
“Hey, Tash?”
She flutters her eyes close as she snuggled closer to him. “Hm?”
“Would you be my girlfriend again?”