Hooked on a Feeling

Annalise stewed for days after Thanksgiving. Why had she done that? She honestly barely realized she had been moving to kiss him.

Lars didn’t call once.

He had his girlfriend. His smoking hot air hostess. He didn’t want her. That was finally clear.

She could feel his arms locked around her. So sure then frozen into uncertainty. Why did it have to be like that?

But then he did call. After he had returned from the road trip. Unlike all the other times, she asked if she could go over to his place. They had to talk. And this way she could leave when she wanted.
She brought Casanova.

“Hey.” Lars grinned as he opened the door. His hair was wet from the shower. “Hey Cass!”

She unhooked Casanova and let him run free in the apartment before stepping inside herself.

“How was the road trip?” she asked quietly.

“Alright.” He led her into the kitchen. “I had to share a room with Brandon the entire time. He thrashes about in his sleep. Not very peaceful. Can I get you a drink?”

“We have to talk. About Thanksgiving.”

He sighed. “Annalise, I – “

“I’m sorry.” She said quickly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you –“

“Really.” She insisted, speaking over him. “We’re friends, right?”

Lars looked at her, finally seeing. She had bags under her eyes and her gel manicure was pealing. This had been eating away at her, while he himself was being the asshole who suddenly wouldn’t call.

And he just could not take any more. She was so perfect, she wanted him, and he was too busy being a dipshit to consider that his feelings towards her were mutual.

“Anyway.” She muttered. “I should go.”

Lars grabbed her arm and pulled her close, just like Thanksgiving.

“Who said I didn’t want you to do that?” he asked, watching the confusion in her eyes.

“I – “

But he was lowering his lips to hers, running fingers up her back. Relieved to feel her moving in response to him.

“Lars.” she muttered.

He carefully lifted her onto the kitchen table, kissing her neck and moving his fingers steadily down her shirt buttons. Every part of his body was telling him to have her right there, on the kitchen table.

“You have a girlfriend.” She whispered.

He opened his eyes and pulled away from her. The spell was broken.

“It…doesn’t matter.” He said softly.

“Yes, it does.”

“I don’t love her. I haven’t for a long time. We just…”

“Stay together.” She finished, and pushed him away. “I can’t do this.”

“Annalise.”

“No. You just want someone new.”

“You’re the one I want.”

“No. I didn’t come for this.” She grabbed her coat and purse from the floor. “Goodbye Lars.”

And she was gone, his erection the only evidence it had happened at all. He fell back against the counter. A good girl. That was how everyone described her. That was what she was. Why did he expect any differently?

And now she was gone, more finality in that goodbye than he realized.

Annalise was calm as she exited the building and walked around the corner to where she had parked. But her hands shook as she pulled out her keys. She was gasping for breath as she turned on the engine. She couldn’t drive like this.

Even thought she had a strict no-smoking policy in the car, she rolled down the window and lit one. The cold air on her cheeks made her realize she was crying.

She had done the right thing. She told him no. Told him she wouldn’t hook up with him while he had a girlfriend. Mainly because she wanted to think highly of him, that he wouldn’t do that no matter how little they loved each other. Really, it was the right thing to do.

So why was she so upset? Why did it feel so wrong?

~*~

When Olivia came home that day, the house was quiet and dark. There was no jingle of Casanova’s dog tags. No deep voice of Lars. No laughter from Annalise. No music or TV. Silence.

Olivia found her sister wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her eyes red like she had been crying for hours. She grasped a bottle of wine in her hand.

“Annalise?” Olivia frowned. “Where’s Lars? Where’s Cass?”

Her sister slowly stood, taking her blanket and wine with her. “Lars won’t be coming over any more.” she said hoarsely.

“What? What happened?”

Annalise shuffled past her sister and headed towards her bedroom. “I need to sleep. There’s something to eat in the fridge.”

“Annalise!”

“Do your homework.”

Annalise shut her bedroom door behind her, and the apartment was silent again.