Life on Mars

*Jared’s POV*

It took me less than an hour to decide that it was impossible to endure an entire night without knowing why Eliza had been acting so strangely. It was obvious that Tomo knew something I didn’t, and the only thing it served to do was once again inspire the insane jealous streak I’d done so well with keeping at bay. I didn’t suspect that anything had happened between them; I just hated that he knew something I didn’t.

I thought she’d be happy that I’d shown up to see how it went, and Tomo seemed to think so, too. When he met me in the parking lot at the end of the night he’d told me how much fun they’d had and how he didn’t think he’d ever laughed so much in his life. He stayed outside to make a phone call and smoke a cigarette, and I’d wandered into the kitchen, fully expecting to catch her off guard.

And I did, all right. I saw something unfamiliar flash through her gray eyes when she spun around to face me, and all I could do was pull her a little tighter against me. Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was fear. Maybe I was worried that somehow, someway, I’d lost her already. I honestly don’t know what I’d been thinking. I just knew that something wasn’t right.

And when everything had been so right, so unbelievably perfect for the last two weeks, it was like my heart had already begun to break. Her obvious lack of interest in spending the night with me simply made it worse.

I didn’t like secrets. I didn’t like not knowing. I didn’t like thinking that there was one thing on Earth that she couldn’t talk to me about. We’d done so well together. It seemed a switch in her had flipped after that confrontation in the middle of her bedroom, and that all the excuses she’d used to avoid me had gone out the window, so what made tonight so different? What made her hold back now, when something was so clearly on her mind?

Presley claimed Eliza was brutally honest. I believed that she was, but I also believed that there was some calculated measure in it. If she wasn’t bringing it up and confronting it right away then she must still have things to consider. I didn’t necessarily mind that, even though I really would’ve preferred if she just said it straight out.

But what was it anyway? This was the thing that bothered me the most. I could handle a need for some time and space…but not if she wasn’t going to at least clue me in on the subject matter.

So here I am, standing in the dark foyer of her house with her spare key in one hand, once again praying that this wouldn’t all blow up in my face. I’d never, ever been on an edge quite like this in any other relationship.

Which begs the question: what are we calling this? Is it a relationship? I liked to think so.

I slowly made my way upstairs, the total silence an indication that she was sound asleep in her bedroom. I wondered the same thing I’d wondered during the entire drive to her house, that maybe I should wait until morning. Yet I came to the same conclusion once again: I cared too much for her to risk losing her. If losing her was a real possibility, then I wanted to catch her before she made a decision either way. I wanted to tell her that whatever was bothering her, I was sure we could work it out.

I stepped into her doorway, mentally preparing myself to wake her up out of the dead sleep she so often frequented, but was surprised when she spoke quietly.

“I really should change the location of the spare key,” she croaked from her bed. “Either that or install a damn security system.”

I licked my lips, sighing at what I knew was indeed partly true. “You do well enough at keeping people out, Eliza. There’s no point in locking people out of your house, too.”

My eyes were already well-adjusted to the darkness, and I could see her roll over onto her back.

“Oh yeah, how would you know?” She retorted. “No one ever goes to your house. My house is like a fucking gathering ground.”

“It’s true that people like being here but you’ve been spending plenty of time at my house,” I pointed out. “You could spend more time there if you’d like.”

She sighed heavily, and I watched as she propped herself up on her elbows to look at me. “So what are you doing here, Jared?” She questioned, rubbing her eyes. “It’s almost midnight.”

“I know,” I returned. “And I’m sorry. I know you’re probably trying to sleep.”

“Trying being the operative word…” She mumbled sarcastically. “But go on.”

“I just want to know what’s going on,” I admitted. “I mean…everything’s been fine for the last two weeks and…tonight it’s like…we weren’t even in the same room.”

“That’s not true,” she disagreed as she scratched her head. “It was just a different kind of night, you know? I haven’t been in a kitchen professionally in years. It put me on a different wavelength, that’s all.”

“That’s not all,” I insisted, surprised at the voracity in my own voice. “Why are you lying to me?”

She groaned, collapsing back onto the pillows again and running her hands through her hair. “I’m not lying,” she told me, her voice far softer than I expected. “I’m just not saying it. There’s a huge difference.”

“Not really,” I went on. “If you deny that something is going on, yet you can sit here and tell me that it’s only that you’re not saying something, it’s still equivalent to lying.”

She sat up quickly and I could practically feel her eyes burning holes into me. “Think back very carefully, Jared,” she began. “Think back to everything single word that was uttered tonight. I never denied anything. You never asked if I was okay and I said I was fine. Just now, I never said that nothing was going on. I was very careful to avoid saying anything could get us into a disagreement like this, okay? The only reason I didn’t talk about it is because I’m still processing it. That’s all. I promise.”

“So…do you need more time?” I asked. “And if so, could you at least give me an idea of what’s bugging you?”

“What difference does it make if I need more time?” She suddenly snapped. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and climbed out. She switched on the bedside lamp and began to storm across the room towards me. “God knows you won’t leave until your curiosity is satiated…”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” I sighed as she pushed past me out into the hallway. “I’m not trying to be a pain in the ass, Eliza, but what choice have you given me?” I could see her push open her office door and disappear inside, and since I knew she could hear me I just went on. “How many things have we talked about and been open about? And suddenly now you can’t say this one thing? Why? What’s so bad about it?”

“Because the whole thing just sucks!” She announced loudly as she emerged from her office again. She had something in her hand, and she thrust it towards me as she stepped past me into the bedroom again.

I watched as she climbed back up into her bed before looking down at the object in my hand. “A tabloid?” I asked incredulously when I saw it. “Since when do you read tabloids?”

“I don’t,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “Neither does Holden, and he’s the one I got it from. Page 12, please.”

I grimaced. She sounded like she’d said it at least a hundred times already. Either that or she was tired of hearing it. Neither of those conclusions meant good things for me.

I flipped open to page 12, shocked to see a photograph of the two of us. I remembered exactly what night it was. I also remembered that I hadn’t seen any paparazzi nearby.

I didn’t read the caption below because I already knew what kind of thing it would say. Instead I tore the page out, then flipped the magazine closed again and spun around to walk back into her hallway. She’d left her office door slightly ajar, and I pushed it open just as she had moments earlier and hit the light switch. My angry eyes tried to quickly adjust to the sudden light, and as soon as they did I went to the paper shredder next to her desk. I slid the power button to the side until I saw a tiny green light, then fed the magazine page into it. Once it was through I shut the shredder off again and tossed the magazine into a small trash bin next to her desk.

“Do you feel better now?” Eliza asked as I stepped into the hallway and began moving towards her bedroom. “Does shredding the picture make you think the problem has gone away?”

“What problem?” I asked her as I stepped into her bedroom. She was still perched on the edge of her bed. “We both knew this would happen, just not when. To be perfectly honest, I’m grateful we were even able to get two weeks in. Three if you want to count the first week that you spent trying to keep yourself at least an arm’s length away from me.”

She didn’t reply. She just picked at the hem where her pajama pants met her ankle, her expression blank. I suddenly wondered if she’d already made her decision and was just figuring out how to say it…

“Eliza…” I breathed. “Is this really that big of a deal? I mean…you can’t tell me that you didn’t consider all this when we first started seeing eachother. It doesn’t change anything between us, not if you don’t let it.”

“I know it doesn’t,” she sighed. “It’s just…Holden was getting phone calls all day about it. Everybody knows and everyone’s talking about it and…”

“And what?” I pressed. “What’s really the issue?”

“If I tell you…” She murmured. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Jared…” She pleaded.

“I’m just being honest,” I responded. “I can’t make a promise like that and you know it. Neither could you.”

“All right, fine,” she grumbled. “I know it might sound childish but...I just don’t want people to think I’m dating you for…attention. We live in two different worlds, you know? Yours is mainstream, mine isn’t. I don’t want to look like some writer that’s suddenly discredited herself because she got involved with some…celebrity…” She paused meaningfully. “I talked to Tomo about it, but only because I didn’t have time to call you before heading down there. He put it in perspective for me and explained that if I really cared for you and that if people really respected my work, then it shouldn’t matter what anyone thinks about who I date.”

“He’s right,” I whispered. “About everything. I know how it feels, because…I can’t change who I am, Eliza. I can’t change the fact that I’ve got this God-awful reputation around Hollywood and that some people don’t take what I do seriously. But you’re a different story. You’ve spent the last seven or eight years establishing yourself and you don’t have a dual career. People aren’t going to look at you and say that you’re just cashing in on an opportunity to do something. Trust me, it feels shitty. But all you’re doing is dating me. I’m the joke, Eliza, not you. I’m the one that people think is crazy, not you.”

Her gray eyes shot up towards mine then. “That’s not true,” she insisted adamantly.

“Yes, it is,” I shook my head. “If anything…you make me look good, and you know damn well that I don’t care what anyone thinks about me. I understand how you feel and I accept that. Thank you for telling me. But all I want to know is if this changes things so drastically between us that you can’t be with me. I wouldn’t think you were shallow or heartless or anything if you said yes. If it’s going to get under your skin more than it already is and you don’t want to deal with the scrutiny, then just tell me.”

“So it’s that easy, huh?” She asked, her eyes flooding with sadness.

“No,” I whispered. “It’s not that easy. But I would rather have you in my life as something than not be there at all. I don’t want to let you go, but I also don’t want to make you miserable. Your happiness means more to me than getting what I want.”

She looked down at the bedspread and stayed frozen for a few long seconds, until her shoulders buckled and a soft cry wracked through her. I rushed to her like lightning, climbing up onto the bed and wrapping my arms around her. She tried to push me away but I wouldn’t let her.

“I’m such a jerk,” she groaned into my shoulder. “I’m the worst person ever…”

“No, you’re not,” I hushed her. “You’re perfect and I’m so lucky to know you. You’re human, Eliza, and I love that about you. If you didn’t care about things like that then maybe I’d start to wonder if you were seeing me for the wrong reasons.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she sniffled. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better. You’re the least suspicious person I know and I have to tell you…it doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

I chuckled softly and pulled her tighter against me. “You’re wrong,” I returned. “I’m suspicious of everyone except for the people that I know well and care for. You’re one of them.”

“See?” She chuckled in return. “You are full of it. You’d never think I was dating you for attention.”

I laughed again. I couldn’t deny it. I had indeed only said it to prove a point, and her ability to see the humor in it showed me that she understood what I was trying to say and couldn’t disagree. I was just relieved to hear her laugh again. I was overwhelmed with panic the moment I’d realized she was crying.

She pulled away then and reached down to start untying my shoes. “You’re not going anywhere,” she told me with finality, tossing them to the floor. She sat up again and began to push my jacket off. I pushed her hands away and did it myself, throwing it over the side of the bed to join the shoes. We both lay down facing one another, and I could only fully relax when I saw that her tears had completely dried.

“So what did you tell Holden to say?” I asked quietly. I snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her towards me once again.

“I told him I’m sticking to ‘no comment,’” she answered. “I don’t see the point in saying anything else.”

I shrugged. “You could just do what I do and not say anything at all,” I suggested. “People will see us together and figure it out for themselves. We don’t need to get involved.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I guess you’re right.”

I smiled gently. “But that brings me to my next question. What are we calling this? Am I allowed to call you my girlfriend?”

“You want a girlfriend?” She laughed. “You don’t just want someone of the opposite sex to hang out with and spend a whole lot of your free time with?”

She was teasing me, of course.

“I only want a girlfriend if she’s you,” I grinned. “I’m sure we could both find casual company of the opposite sex if we really felt it was necessary…”

“You’re right,” she nodded. “I’m sure we could.”

“So then what’s the final word?” I pressed playfully. “Yes or no? You’re killing me…”

“Yeah…” She playfully rolled her eyes at me. “I guess that would be okay. I haven’t had a real boyfriend in a long time, though.”

“Well I’m glad you’re breaking the rules for me,” I whispered. “And I’m glad I’m not considered…you know…fake or whatever.”

“No…” She said with a small smile. “You are indeed very real, Jared. Very real and very much mine.”

Something in her gray eyes changed then. I’d seen desire in them countless times before, even while we were doing simple tasks, but this was a new kind. It unnerved me just enough to make my breath catch in my throat, and before I could lose the courage I bent down and crushed my lips to hers.

She responded immediately, her lips soft, warm, and moist against mine, and I had to fight back a smile when she moaned into my mouth. Her tongue was like velvet, her teeth gently nipping at my bottom lip, and I found myself searching once again for the self-control I’d had to hold in a vice grip since day one. My skin tingled and I actually started to feel light-headed. I wanted her – all of her – right now, and I didn’t want to wait any longer.

At that thought I violently pulled away. “I’m sorry,” I gasped quietly, rolling over onto my back. I ran my hands through my hair and then pressed both heels of my hands against my closed eyelids. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to kiss you that first night.”

I could hear her sigh next to me, and suddenly her fingers were wrapped around my arms and pulling my hands away from my face. I opened my eyes in just enough time to see her climbing on top of me, and I silently cursed at myself. I didn’t need to say anything; my body was communicating my thoughts effectively enough.

“Jared,” she whispered. “You’re ruining a perfectly appropriate moment. Did you think we would never kiss?”

“No, of course not,” I whispered back. I motioned to her body with my eyes. “You’re not making this any easier, though.”

She laughed breezily, her head tipping back to expose her throat. I desperately wanted to kiss that throat, but instead I focused on trying to force a smile before she looked down at me again.

“Calm down,” she said reassuringly, her gaze sympathetic when she finally did. “This doesn’t change the rules.”

I snorted. “Easy for you to say. I don’t know if I can stick to them now. It was easier when there was still that one thing, you know? Kissing is like…connecting with someone on a different level…”

“I know,” she agreed softly.

Her eyes said it all and suddenly...I understood. What started out as me attempting to restrain myself had first progressed into an innocent game meant to tease ourselves and one another. But then it turned into something much more. It turned into a way to keep a tight grip on the last of our ourselves. For her, presumably, the last part of her that simply despised being in a relationship. For me, the last part of my cautious heart that had already almost completely succumbed to her graces.

I reached up to touch her face, smoothing my fingertips across her cheek. I wound my other arm around her waist and slipped my hand beneath her shirt, resting it on the small of her back. “Is that okay with you?” I asked tenderly.

She nodded slowly, carefully lying down on top of me, and pressed her lips against the corner of my mouth. “It's okay with me,” she whispered, running a hand through my hair.

“Good,” I smirked. “Because I wouldn't have taken no for an answer.”

“Gee, what a surprise,” Eliza chuckled. “You never take the easy way out, do you? Not like some people...” She casually motioned to herself.

My smirk turned into a curious smile. “Would it have been so easy to stay away from me?” I questioned.

She chuckled again. “No, not at all,” she replied without hesitation.

“So then I guess you didn't take the easy way out,” I pointed out. She opened her mouth to respond but I pulled her in to kiss her again. “Less talking,” I laughed against her lips. “More making out.”

And when she laughed with me I realized something with striking clarity.

No matter what it took, I was keeping this one.