#gradearing

So here’s the last part of my fic, a direct followup from No.3. All previous parts have been linked below (they work on the mobile app, hopefully they’re accessible).. If you wanna, please feel free to check it out! I don’t even know if anyone’s reading/enjoying it but I can’t help myself when it comes to writing for these two!

Owen had never, ever found it more difficult to stop himself from punching something than he did right now. He rubbed his hands against his face and through his hair in exasperation as a desperate sigh escaped him. How had he fucked up this evening so badly? More importantly, why did he feel as though he’d fallen for Claire in a way he’d never experienced before? He had visions of her eventually becoming his moon and stars, his reason for waking every morning. And he was nothing more than a cloud on her horizon. Well, if he wasn’t before; he certainly was now.

He should have sensed Claire tiring of his velociraptor talk in the restaurant. It was glaringly obvious to him now that this evening was a channel of escapism to her, a way to forget about her corporate duties and the weight of thousands of people upon her delicate shoulders. She obliged him at first, smiling along and even prying into the routines and processes that occurred at the behavioural unit. Taking a bite of her sea bass, she had remarked “I remember watching you imprint on them when they were born. I thought it was an absurd practice; but it actually seems to have worked in your favour.” She offered him a smile; her even, perfect teeth gleaming as she sipped from her water. Owen was tucking into his steak with gusto - relishing the fact he was enjoying his favourite food, discussing his favourite subject with perhaps his favourite woman.

Thinking about it now, Owen shook his head and scratched his beard. Fucking greediness, Grady. It never did you any good. Admittedly he did propose several questions to her, but it became apparent her family and early life were the last topics she wanted to discuss as in-depth as Owen would’ve liked. “Yeah, I have an older sister, Karen. She’s great. She’s got two boys - my nephews. They’re really great kids..” She resumed eating quietly, and he couldn’t help think her whole side of the conversation was a farce. Talking about normalities just to please him. How had their flirtatious conversing at the Halloween party turned into this? Why was she holding back?

Frankly, Owen would have talked to Claire about anything - the first movies they ever saw, their prom dates, their first pet, hell; he’d even ask her if she believed in soulmates if it would produce a genuine response from her. All too soon their courses were finished and she was taking out her card, clearly ready to split. Owen placed a large paw over her dainty hand and snorted. “No way. I’ll get this, Claire. A woman should never pay, even if she’s earning more than me.” He smirked at her. This was clearly not the right thing to say. “Excuse me? My salary doesn’t come into this. At all.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, defensive position deployed. Owen was immediately transported to her office, staring into the same face that reprimanded him so often for handing in his reports too late. He reverted back to his nervous stance - his hand shooting to the back of his neck and scrubbing the skin there. “Look, I, uh, didn’t mean to offend you. It was just a joke.” He raised his hands in surrender. They ended up splitting the bill, and she stood up abruptly and he followed; feeling like a piece of shit with his tail between his legs.

“Tonight was fun,” she’d said, her false smile playing tight across her face as they sat outside his bungalow. After a few moments of awkward conversation in the car, they’d actually ended up outside his fucking house. At 8.30pm. He couldn’t believe his luck - as a jock at high school, he’d been used to getting his way with women. Even more so in the Navy. Not that he didn’t respect women - jeez, his momma would never have let her son grow up like that, but if he had ever truly desired a girl; he’d win her eventually. Charm her, woo her, get to know her preferences and what turned her on. And he’d never even make it that far with Claire, now. He sighed, and turned to face her. “You don’t have to lie to me. I could tell you didn’t really enjoy it. I was going to suggest we went to Margaritaville, get a few tequila shots down our necks to lighten the mood.” He chuckled sadly. “My, uh, current diet doesn’t really allow for tequila.” She murmured, looking anywhere but at him. He shook his head, in pure disbelief that the night was truly ending like this.

He unbuckled himself and almost leapt from her car. “Owen?!” She called after him through the window, and he turned round, hands on his hips. “Let’s just pretend this never happened. You clearly didn’t enjoy yourself, and you have no idea how hard that is for me to accept. Whatever, Claire. We tried.” She spluttered in indignation. “Fine! Fine. If that’s how you want to leave things. I’ll be down to the paddock next week for a progress report. Good night, Owen.” Her tone was flat, she made no attempt to fight or argue, and it pained him greatly. With that, she pulled away.

He was left standing there in the dark, when all he wanted to do was tear after her and scream that no, no fucking way was that the way he wanted to leave things. He tried so hard not to grow attached to people - humans were an overrated species. He’d been content on this island just him and the girls until he thought he had a shot to try with Claire. He wanted to beg for a second chance, to kiss her so hard that it could potentially make her feel just an ounce of the passion he nurtured for her. He kicked the dirt in frustration and retreated to his bungalow. And that’s where he found himself now, replaying it over and over again in his head sat alone in the dark. He now faced the toughest challenge ever since arriving on the island. To erase all memory of tonight and keep working for Claire as if nothing had ever happened. As if he’d never even contemplated the fact he’d fallen in love with Claire Dearing. It doesn’t do to fall in love with the devil you know.

them: Oh My God it was so forced.