The Walking Dead: You're Beautiful - A Tara and Rosita Fanfiction

Chapter 6: About Last Night

My head feels like I've got a throbbing, pulsating vice grip tightly clenched around my skull, ready to knock my eye out of its socket. Goddamn, this hurts. Last night feels like a word on the tip of my tongue, like I just cannot think of it for the life of me. I don't know what Rosita remembers (or doesn't remember, for that matter) and I'm afraid to ask her. We made out last night, I know that much – if she doesn't know, then I should probably leave it that way. I'd hate for it to throw off or ruin our friendship. At the same time, I know I am going to have the hardest time erasing the memory of those sweet, Latina lips boldly but ever so gently asserting themselves against my own. The way she held me in her arms, looking me in the eyes...it was all so beautiful, and yet I can't say anything to her in fear she'll be upset. Without a doubt in my mind, I have feelings for her – but I know I can't. She's straight, isn't she?

I can't stop thinking about Denise, either. I shouldn't have these feelings for Rosita, not so soon after losing my girlfriend. Shit, this situation is getting worse and worse. If she only knew, I'm sure she'd have the same feelings, considering what happened to Abraham.

Rosita is currently sitting in my kitchen, slouched down with her back against the refrigerator. She's drinking some water to try to ease her own headache from her hangover.

"Goddamn it..." she mutters. "How much did I drink last night?"

"I dunno...you downed a lot of whiskey, though."

"Why didn't you stop me?"

"I was shitfaced, okay?" I offer her a smile.

We share a soft laugh. For a moment, I'm taken back to the day Martinez had that little picnic out in his camp. Lilly was laughing it up with Brian, Meghan was playing with her food, and I was there, hammered as hell, next to my girlfriend, Alisha. Lilly always had a way of scolding me whenever I swore – it was motherly. Even when we were younger, living it up with Dad, she was that way – so damn mature for her age. Maybe it was just because Mom wasn't there, she felt compelled to raise me "proper" or something...I don't know...but it just makes me think back to the time when she got on my case for saying I was shitfaced in front of Meghan. I miss them both so much...even Alisha, to some extent. As for Brian, I hope he's rotting in hell.

There is an awkward silence wedged between Rosita and I that has come and gone in waves since we woke up. I feel so incredibly uncomfortable knowing the possibility that we had sex while completely inebriated. She must feel even worse. The not knowing is the worst part of it. It's already noon...I hope no one saw us last night, leaving Aaron and Eric's party in drunken excitement as we rushed back to my place. If only Glenn were around to tease us – I'd take it in a heartbeat, just knowing he was alive; he'd laugh at us and be persistent with his jokes, pushing and pushing until one of us finally spilled the truth out, much to his often terrified "too much information" reaction in such the occasion.

"So..." I begin. "Should we address the elephant in the room?"

"Yeah, we better before it flies off with its big-ass Dumbo ears."

"What do you remember from last night?"

"Not much of anything, really...I remember being at the party. I think I was pissed off...angry at something. It was probably some old shit about Abraham, 'bout how he used to drink whiskey all the time to cope with his pain...could always smell that shit on his breath when he'd kiss me. After that, it's fuzzy...not sure what I dreamt and what was real or some sort of shit in between."

Great...she doesn't know we kissed. I hope that if she finds out, she doesn't think I was aiming to take advantage of her in her impaired state of mind. At the same time, though, I didn't tell her to stop when I easily could've. I guess I was taking advantage of her...I wasn't going to let that opportunity pass me by, though. I had to live for the moment, especially since our future is so uncertain. I get up an go to the upstairs bathroom to take a moment of privacy; I splash some water on my face, looking myself in eyes in the large mirror. They're bloodshot as all hell. Damn, I look rough. I quickly brush my hair and tie it back into a tight ponytail. As I stand there in reflection (in both the literal mirror sense and the mental sense), the last night's activities suddenly come to a stronger clarity. I feel sick to my stomach as it comes back to me. Damn...I rush back downstairs. Rosita is readying herself to leave. I should really talk to her, but I can't bring myself to admit it, not after Abraham and Denise.

"I take it you don't remember anything then, Tara?"

I pause for a moment. "No, I don't think so..." I lie, unable to tell her.

"I'm going to head out, for some space, then...I just want to be alone until we have things figured out..."

I feel so ripped up inside. I cannot hide both this AND Oceanside at once...I'm going to pop. After she leaves, I collapse onto the counter, sobbing into my arms. I took advantage of her curiosity...my conscience can't handle this secret. I run out the door and chase her down.

"Rosita, we need to talk..."

I take her to the small bench gazebo by the safe zone's pond. We sit side-by-side; telling her could ruin everything, but she deserves to know.

"What is it?"

"I lied...about last night. Not remembering, I mean..."

"What happened?"

"I don't know how you're going to take it. We were still at the party. You were drunk...way more than I was...and you kissed me. You kissed me so damn hard...I- I couldn't stop myself. I wish that I could have, but I just couldn't. You took me on so strongly...everything felt so damn right with you holding me like that, and for a moment, for just a moment, Rosita, everything felt like it was a little fucking normal again, like it wasn't the end of the world, that our friends weren't dead."

She looks confused and almost upset, staring down at her feet. "That's all we did?"

I close my head, turning my head downwards. My lips quiver as tears well up in my eyes. "I'm so sorry..." She hugs me and tries to comfort me, but I push her off me. "After we kissed, I led you back to my house and we made out pretty rough. Next thing I knew, you were feeling me up and you pushed me into the bed. I couldn't remember after that, but then it all hit me. We...we basically went all the way, Rosita. You were so insistent and your boldness turned me on, so I couldn't stop you. I wish I could've, Rosita...I really wish I could've. I'm so, so very sorry. I took advantage of you..."

She is speechless. She looks like she's wrestling with her feelings. I cry into my palms, upset with myself. Rosita looks incredibly disgusted, probably with me and maybe even herself. She stands up and rushes off, not uttering a word. I feel sick to my stomach...