#anon corner

OJ could go entire parts of the day without speaking, especially in the period between losing his father and you coming into his life. There was no need to without people (besides the occasional rhetorical question or comment to one of the horses), so when you weren’t making that effort to bring him out of his shell it was just you, him, the wind against the hills, the sound of the horses grumbling and snorting, and your boots against the ground as you went about the same chores you always did to help him out.

This was a verbal stalemate, but a farm with animals didn’t have to pay for that too, so you still did what you knew needed to be done – your farm, your boyfriend’s farm, whatever. The two of you weren’t up against a relationship-shattering argument; just a spat that made the both of you needing to go separate ways for awhile, be left alone with thoughts after things had been said.

Neither of you would say anything of value, strong interest, or emotional response. It was all just enough to make your lips tighten, and his eyes for once be unable to leave yours. Prolonged eye contact from someone who only did so behind closed doors was disarming, and what was there to do but run from that? Especially in a shaken up state, you needed to make sure you were shooting straight before anything else.

Ghost nudged his snout against your shoulder, warranting a smile for the first time since the morning. You imagined they were doing the same to OJ, bringing a silver lining to time spent alone and turning over everything brought to light in your argument. A hand, cold but needing contact from another, came up to hold the horse’s head against your arm. He snuffed, letting you lean your cheek against his face for a moment before you sighed.

“Yeah, I know. I need to talk eventually, right?” An oval-shaped eye staring into yours made you shift weight, a discomfort enough to make you answer yourself. “Yeah…”

Still, it was hard to approach. You were getting silly with your need to avoid it, even: Would sleeping in the barn be a step too overdramatic? Would that be an actual problem? You then began to spin yourself a hypothetical: if there was a non-animal referee. You could imagine his sister Emerald watching this stupid dance the two of you were doing, and immediately popping the deafening mute draw between OJ Haywood and [Y/N] [L/N].

“So, why aren’t we talking to each other? I'd ask if someone cheated, but neither of you could do that even if you wanted to.”

The story in your head spiraled as you finally began trekking towards the farmhouse, smirking as you conjured what sort of face that would get your boyfriend to make. The comic relief fizzled quickly as you made it to the porch sooner than you had liked, and you realized imagining his face was unnecessary.

He was right there, waiting like there was a premonition you'd be finding your way back before it got too dark. Your eyes faced forward, and the dread seeped into your countenance. A panic, an unwillingness to be direct, once again choked you into walking past; that proved to be done in vain as a hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping your strides into unstable hobbles on the wood beneath your feet as you hung halfway out of the front door.

SIlent, you followed his pull until you were standing side by side. The closeness after a day of depriving each other of contact made you shiver, unable to look at him, him unable to look at you. Still, there was a recognition both of you were in the boat now. You wanted fixing to be done, but this wasn't a broken stable door or a tangled mane.

Still, you grasped for straws on what would make it easier, so you let yourself speak through the discomfort.

"If I knew what to say, I would've said it."

He huffed at that, but replied, "Wasn't bad enough to run off on me, so I guess we're going to figure it out." You now looked over at him, meeting his eyes. A steady gaze that made you feel like your head was screwed on correctly.

A nervous noise in your throat got you looking out from the porch again, and you asked him, "Is there anything I can do right now to make it easier?"

He was silent, and you started to throw options out. "I could go sleep in the barn."

"Mm-mm." He shook his head, frowning in a mild seriousness before melting when you grinned at him.

"You sure? If you need the space-"

"Nah." He cut you off, a hand snaking around your waist and the other securing over your stomach to lasso you to his side, "You can stay right here. That'll fix it for tonight." Animosity dripped off your arms as they moved, sliding over his shoulders in a returned hold.

"Fine, but really: I understand if you need space." He rolled his eyes at you, making you smile and insist, "OJ, I've been a fucking dick today. I understand if-"

"How 'bout this for giving space?" He asked, and when you looked over again he gave a hurried peck on your lips. A bit rehearsed, but your reaction seemed to balance it out. An elusive smile crept over his face as he began to laugh. "Do you gotta look like it's a shock that I still like you despite arguing with you, [Y/N]?"

A weight descended from your chest, sliding over your stomach in a warm giggle as you scoffed at him.

Silently grateful and shows it by checking in as much as his introverted nature lets him. "You good?"s and bringing you lots of water without being asked when you two cross paths. He makes sure the two of you have a proper breakfast and dinner too before things are said and done.

I can also see late at night: some records being put on, and curling up in his lap with some drinks, talking if the conversation goes somewhere but mostly just decompressing silently, having some contact after a grueling day of being up on your feet and most likely not as close together as you could be.

Since he speaks through actions more than anything, you do have to keep your eyes open around him. He does best with observant types when working together, lots of gestures and noises rather than verbal instructions (note: clicking at Angel to scroll on the cameras). You can always ask, of course, but sometimes in the middle of a hot day he just doesn't want to open his damn mouth.

If you go quiet, he might reach over and touch your shoulder, trying to see what's wrong just through eye contact since most are more talkative than himself. This can be cute, telling, intimate, or awkward depending on how you're feeling.

Maybe even frustrating. "Hanging in there?" "What the fuck do you think?" "...Sorry I asked." "No, no. I'm sorry, OJ- Jesus-"

That being said, he doesn't take any advances while doing chores well either. You're not getting involved with him in the stables, you're not even making out with him unless the sun is down, the work is done, and the horses are tended to.

Shopping isn't done often, but you always go with him. There's usually enough planning around it (whether by him or you) to take a break from work on the ranch to drive into town. Lots of quiet radio lulls, reaching over the console to rest your hand on his leg while he drives. If he's extra soft, he'd take it one-handed to hold yours. Wordless but intimate.

If you're an animal lover, he also notices that. You often coo over the horses and focus in on them when handling them yourself, not even aware he had walked into the stables with you. He holds his laughter in for your pride's sake, but then admits he finds it cute you love the horses