Summary: During Owen’s next trip to New York, Allie comes to some realizations.
Note: Set after Think About It Always (NSFW).
The weather in New York refuses to cooperate the next time Owen flies out. His flight is delayed because of severe thunderstorms (which he teases her about, how it’s never the weather in L.A. that’s causes them travel issues). When he finally lands, it’s cold and still down-pouring. It’s miserable as they dart into a cab outside the airport, but Allie is so happy to see him that she can almost ignore that she’s wet and shivering.
Owen’s hair sticks up all over the place when he runs his hand through it, and it makes her grin. Her hair is dripping incessantly on her jacket and her jeans are sticking to her legs, but Owen snags a kiss in the backseat and squeezes the damp denim over her knee, and that helps her feel warmer.
She’s still shivering when they get inside her apartment, dripping water on the kitchen floor.
“Shower?” Allie suggests through chattering teeth, hanging her jacket on one of the hooks by the door and getting her damp shoes off.
Owen’s hands are somehow warm as he runs them up and down her arms, his lips soft when he kisses her. His eyes are filled with undeniable heat that makes her swallow hard.
“Shower,” he agrees.
They leave their wet clothes draped across the kitchen chairs, kissing slowly as they make their way to her bathroom. Allie flips the shower on, leaning back into Owen as his hands roam over her chilled skin. A billow of steam pours out when she pulls the shower curtain back and they step in.
Owen’s hands run through her hair and down her back before he tilts his head down and presses his lips to hers. Allie loops her arms around his neck, sighing at the feel of his wet skin sliding against hers while they kiss languidly. She has a feeling they’d be utterly impatient right now, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’ll be here for longer this trip.
“I missed you,” she murmurs.
“I missed you too,” he says.
He blinks slowly, his hands drifting down to caress her hips. “I miss you a lot, Al,” he confesses.
Allie trails her thumb over his lips. She misses him a lot too, though she’s not entirely sure what the solution to that is. He has a job and a life in L.A., and she’s torn over whether or not she could move across the country just for him. More and more, when she hasn’t seen him in days and finds herself nearly aching with missing him, she thinks about it.
She wants to see him more. She knows their relationship is serious and they’re both committed and they can’t go on forever being almost 3000 miles apart. But she also knows any big decisions she makes need to be for her, and not only about them.
“Hey,” Owen says softly. “Where’d you go?”
She glances up at him, at his dark eyes and the way his hair is sticking up and the tender way he’s looking at her. She’s struck by how much he’s come to mean to her, how much she looks forward to being with him.
“Just thinking,” she says.
Allie leans in, rising on her toes to kiss him again. “I miss you a lot, too.”
The water is cold by the time they get out of the shower, and Owen laughs about how it defeated the purpose.
“Oh?” Allie asks, watching him watch her get dressed. “Are you saying we should avoid showering together in the future?”
Owen pulls her in close, his chest rising and falling rhythmically against hers. “Never,” he says, a smile on his face when he kisses her.
It’s still raining hard when they go to bed later that night, pounding relentlessly against her bedroom window. Her room is nearly pitch black, Owen just visible in the hazy glow from the streetlight outside. She curls against his chest, listening to the rain and the steady thump of his heartbeat and drawing lazy circles across his skin.
“I like falling asleep with you,” Allie murmurs.
“Mm. Me too,” Owen agrees.
He glides his fingers through her hair and shifts her closer. She lifts her head up, her lips seeking his.
There are words on the tip of her tongue, words that have been on her mind the past few days. Words about him, about them, about her worries about how long this distance will work for.
“Allie,” Owen says quietly, his breath warm against her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” she asks, trying to sound casual and knowing she’s failed miserably.
Owen cups her cheek in his hand. “You’ve been so quiet most of the night. What is it?”
She sighs. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”
He sounds a little hesitant, like he’s afraid of what she’s going to say, when he asks, “About what?”
“Us,” she answers honestly.
She can’t see him clearly in the dark, just the light outside reflecting his eyes and the soft outline of his face.
“Have you…thought about how we’ll keep doing the long-distance thing?” she asks.
Owen’s thumb stills, then resumes tracing over her cheekbone.
“Yes,” he says after a minute, but doesn’t say anything else.
Allie can feel her heart pounding. “So have I.”
Owen remains silent, though his hand is still soft and soothing over her cheek and through her hair.
“It’s so far,” Allie says, thinking out loud. “We see each other…what, four or five days a month?”
The rain falls steadily against her window, and her heart steadily starts pounding harder.
“What do you want to do?” Owen finally asks.
“I don’t know,” she answers, wondering what in the world the solution is to them living so far apart.
Owen stiffens underneath her. His hand drops away, and she feels him shift away from her, just a little.
“Allie,” he says, his voice sounding so pained that it almost physically hurts her to hear it. “If you want to stop-“
“What?” she interrupts him. “No, I don’t want to-“
Allie halts, realizing suddenly how her out loud “I don’t know” thought must have sounded to him.
“Oh, Owen,” she murmurs, her voice catching. “No. No. I didn’t mean…”
She curls against his chest, feeling tears come to her eyes. Sheer relief flows through her when he wraps his arms around her again, and she exhales shakily, bringing her arms around his back.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice muffled against his chest. “I meant I don’t know what the answer is. The long term answer. I don’t want to stop.”
She lifts her head up, kissing him deeply. “I don’t want to stop,” she reassures him again, her voice soft. “I want this. I want you. I-“
She pauses, just for a second, blinking the tears back. She can see him watching her.
“I love you,” she whispers.
Allie swears the world outside pauses, just for a minute. She can’t hear the rain or the noises of the city, only hears his sharp inhale. All she can feel is his chest rise and fall against her, his warmth, his hands on her skin, her racing heart beating out an unfamiliar but welcome rhythm.
“Allie,” Owen says, his voice thick with emotion, almost reverent. He pulls her in tight, taking her face in both of his hands.
“I love you, too, Al,” he whispers.
She chokes out a half laugh, deliciously happy and half-overwhelmed at the sudden shift from overthinking and worrying to this inexplicable warmth and joy.
Owen presses his mouth to hers, his lips soft and sensual, hungry and desperate, all at once.
“Allie,” he whispers. “God, Al. I love you. I want to make love to you.”
She runs one of her hands down his bare chest, along his stomach, feeling his muscles quiver. “I just want to love you,” she murmurs. “I do love you.”
“I love you too. So much,” he groans softly.
Owen captures her lips again in a bruising kiss, then lifts her upright and sits up, settling her on his lap. He pulls her tank top over her head, his fingers and his mouth trailing over her neck and chest and shoulders.
“Oh,” she sighs, closing her eyes and tilting her head back when he lightly sucks at her pulse point.
Allie shifts against him restlessly.
“I want you,” she sighs.
“I’m here. You have me,” he says.
~~~~~~~~~~
When she wakes the next morning, it’s still raining. Allie lays there a few minutes longer, content to feel Owen’s chest pressed against her back and his arm tight around her waist. She traces her fingertips over his hand, smiling when he fidgets and flexes his fingers against her.
“Morning,” he mumbles sleepily, making no effort to get up.
“Good morning.”
“I’d say you’re up early, but I’m guessing you want coffee,” he yawns, and she can hear the humor in his voice.
“You’re probably antsy to get to a gym,” she teases him.
His chest rumbles with his laughter. “Actually, I’m pretty good here.”
He loosens his grip so she can turn around, his stubble prickling against her palm when she cups his cheek in her hand.
“I love you,” Owen says, threading his hand into her hair.
“I love you, too,” she murmurs.
She loves the sound of those words, loves the way he’s looking at her, loves knowing that whatever plan they come up with, they’re in this together.