Caged Birds Don't Like to Sing

The next morning went by fantastically. Almost too fantastically. The sun was shining, were chirping, and better yet, no sign of Jackson. I went downstairs and watched television by myself for a while. Not a huge selection of shows at that time, so I just ended up watching some talk show called The Talk.

Ironically they were talking about marriages. Apparently some celebrity they were dishing on had a wedding big coming up. They talked about everything to touch on when it came to the subject; people getting married too young, getting married for the wrong reasons, rushing into marriage, and even arranged marriages.

“Let’s see what they have to say about it,” I said to myself, amusement growing on my lips, and turned up the volume on the T.V.

“I think it is a pretty good concept,” confessed Julie Chen.

“If you live in the middle ages!” Leah Remini slammed her hands on the desk. “I could never imagine sending my kid to get married to some random guy. Let alone having my parents send me! We should be able to pick our spouse.”

“You got that right.” I grinned even more. It is just as bad as she was imagining it.

“I do agree with Leah to some extent,” Holly Peete shared. “You never know the circumstances of the family. Whether it’s worried parents, money issues, religion. However, I think it should be the person’s choice.”

I rolled my eyes. My parents just wanted to get rid of me. They didn’t need a reason besides that.

I heard the front door open and shut. I clicked the T.V. off instantly. I turned back to see Jackson walking into the house with a few plastic bags in each of his hands.

“Hey. Sorry that I didn’t tell you I left,” he greeted as he came through the room and headed off to the kitchen.

“Where were you?” I asked and leaned over the back of the couch, arms propping me up.

“Out.” He started to walk back to the door.

“Not telling me a specific place, eh? I thought we are supposed to be open and honest in matrimony,” I said, mimicking his voice in a mocking way.

He opened the door as someone walked through with bags stacked up over their head. I couldn’t exactly see their face. The mysterious person came the same way in as Jackson did and placed the bags on the counter. I noticed the short hair and guessed it was a man. He turned around.

“You must be Marissa.” He walked over to the couch and hopped over the back of it, plopping down next to me. “I’m Robert. Rob for short.”

I sat back down on the couch normally. “Hi Robert,” I said, already knowing who he was. Who didn’t know who Robert Pattinson was, he’s all over the tabloids constantly. The only thing I didn’t know was that actors actually hung out with each other off set. He held out his hand and I shook it. He had a big, goofy smile on his face.

“Rob lives out on the other side of town,” Jackson explained and sat down on the other side of me.

“Yeah. It’s one hell of a drive,” Robert added in.

“He’s going to stay here for the night.”

“Oh,” I said, acting interested.

“Yup! It’s gonna be a sleepover,” Robert excited.

“You can take the guest room. That won’t be a problem, will it Marissa?” Jackson questioned with a bit of tang at the end of the sentence. It took me by surprise. Where will I be staying then?

“That sounds good. It’s where I usually stay!” Robert stood up and started to stretch. “I think I’m going to head up there and sleep for a bit now. I’ll catch you two later.”

“Wait,” I called, standing up. “I need to get my things out of there.”

“You make her sleep in the guest room, Jay?” Robert asked, appalled. I could tell by the way he was standing up and by his tone of voice that he had been drinking. So that’s where they went for their little escapade, a bar.

“No. She just has some clothes in there. She was also working on something in there, right honey?” Jackson lied, shooting a look towards me. So that’s why I’m not staying in the guest room. The gears started to shift in my brain.

“Erm,” I started to mutter. Jackson slid his arm around me and pinched my side. I made a jerking movement. “Yeah. That’s what I was doing in there. Working on something.”

“Okay. Well I’ll bring them down for you.” With that, Robert was off to the guest room upstairs.

“What was that?” I hissed at Jackson once Rob was out of sight and smacked his arm off of me.

“I don’t want him to think we hate each other,” he said in a strong whisper. “Play along for now.”

“Why do you even care?”

“I don’t want him to start telling everyone or mocking me about this. It would spread around the whole town once he had too much to drink. And after that the press.”

It already looked like Rob had too much to drink. “Fine. But I’m staying on the couch.”

“No,” Jackson instructed. Before I had a chance to start debating him, he continued on. “I’ll take the couch. It wouldn’t be nice if I made you stay down here. I’ll just tell Rob I fell asleep down there or something.”

Something seemed fishy. But I took up the offer so I could have a bed. “Alright,” I hesitantly said. “Why are you being so nice?”

“I’ll explain later.” Jackson’s voice lowered as he spoke and he turned to see Robert stumbling down the stairs with my things.

“Here ya go,” Robert said, dropping my things on the couch.

“Thanks.”

Later that night, after watching even more T.V. as Rob and Jackson had their time outside, I crawled up into Jackson’s bed. It was a lot comfier than the one in the guest bedroom. It seemed more broken in and fluffy. Before I started to get comfortable, I heard the door crack open.

“Hello?” I called and peeked out. Jackson came in and closed the door. He walked over to the bed.

“Night,” he said, placing himself on the edge of the bed.

“What do you want? The sun’s already set so there isn’t a sunset to go watch or something.” I was beginning to get tired of this nonsense with him.

“The reason I would rather have you in here, rather than the couch is that, for one, I don’t want you down there when I’m up here comfortable. It’s not very kind of me.”

“I already heard that one downstairs,” I fussed. “Get to the real reason.”

“Robert can get a little... antsy. Especially after stuff with Kristen went down,” He explained in a hushed voice. He must be talking about Kristen Stewart, Rob’s onscreen love or something. “I didn’t want him to go down there and mess with you, he’s been known to that when he drinks. That’s why he’s here. He drank some at the bar and out back, I didn’t want him to drive home. At least in here you’re a little more protected.”

“Oh. That’s actually... sweet of you.” I thought about my choice of words and curtly added, “But don’t let that get to your head!”

He smiled and looked down. “I won’t. Don’t worry about that,” he assured when he back up at me.

I thought about what Jackson had said about Robert for another second. “Wait, if I’m still upstairs by myself, can’t he just walk in? What’s the difference?”

Jackson pondered this for a moment. “I can stay up here with you.”

“Nope!” I abruptly said.

He laughed. “Just lock the door behind me. You’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

He moved in closer and hugged me. I didn’t move my arms. I just waited until it was over. I groaned quietly in his ear. He pulled away with chuckle. “Goodnight, darlin’,” he said and walked out.

“Don’t call me that.” I waited another few moments as he opened the door. “Night.”

He closed the door. That’s when I immediately jumped out of his bed and locked the door. Running back to his bed, I snuggled down into the sheets. Jackson should sleep on the couch more often. This bed is awesome.

A few hours later, I guessed, a knock at the door made me sit up in the bed. I walked over and opened it. It surprised me when it wasn’t Jackson. “Robert? What are you doing in here.”

“I was just... in town,” he said nonchalantly. His breath reeked of vodka.

“You’re drunk. Go back to bed.” I tried to closed the door. Rob’s foot caught it.

“I can’t sleep, doll face,” he mumbled in a raspy voice. He slammed the door open and let himself in. Before I could stop him, he was stomping over to the bed. He plopped onto it, face first.

“Get up, you big oaf!” I demanded and came up the bed and tried to tug him off.

“No, no!” He grabbed my arms and pulled me down in the bed.

“Get off!” I shouted. Rob’s hands covered my mouth.

“Shh. You’re being too loud. Time to sleep.”

His arm weighed down my abdomen. I couldn’t get free. His body smelled worse than his breath. It was a mixture of smoke, old alcohol, and bad cologne. His skin was much hotter than Jackson’s, if that was even possible.

“Rob,” I said and ripped his hand off my mouth. “Please get up.”

He snored loudly in my ear. I swatted his side. My arms were stuck to my sides and that’s all I could hit. “You are such a creep!”

“Stop it, silly woman!” His laugh grew malicious as he turned over and started kissing me fervently. I didn’t kiss him back, I just kept my lips pursed tightly. I squirmed around as he held me down.

His hand slid down my back and held onto my sweatpant’s band. The kiss got more intense and he bit lip. That’s when I couldn’t take it handle it anymore. I lurched by body up. “Ow!” I whined. Robert’s arms flew off of me.

I patted my lip. “That hurt like hell.” Right before I attempted to get away, his arm pinned me down. “Jackson!” I screamed, but his hand covering my mouth cut me off.

“Sleep,” he commanded in a sterner tone. I obeyed this time, now that I know what he’s capable of. It’s not really like I had a choice, his arms were already tightly around me. And I was not really in the mood to get raped.

Before I drifted off, my body began to get heat flashes and I sweat great amounts. Robert’s hot breath blew down the back of my neck and his body heat consumed me. I began to get claustrophobic. It’s going to be over soon. It will be over soon.

I woke up the next morning dripping in perspiration. Robert’s ironclad hold on me was still as strong as last night. I stared up at the ceiling, hoping he’d be up soon and be sober. Then we could forget about this whole thing.

Footsteps grew nearer and nearer. “Great,” I heard Jackson groan. “What happened here?”

“Just as you predicted! Get him off of me!”

Jackson thought about it for a moment. “Should I?”

“Do it, Rathbone. Or face the consequences later,” I threatened. He chuckled and pulled Robert’s arm off of me.

“What’s going on here?” Rob said in a groggy voice as he sat up.

“You almost raped me last night,” I yelled. “You need to stop drinking!”

“Hmm,” Rob contemplated. I assumed he was thinking about last night. He began to laugh. “I don’t recall anything.”

“Don’t laugh, you bozo!”

Jackson pulled me up.“Be nice. He’s not going to put up with your attitude like I do,” Jackson said caustically. I looked at him through my narrowed eyes. “You’re bleeding,” Jackson noticed, concerned. He then pulled me away to the bathroom.

Once we were in there, I started to elaborate on what had happened yesterday. I made my way up to being pinned down and then I got to the part that caused my lip to bust. “He kissed me last night and bit my lip. Really hard, actually.”

Jackson placed a wet towel to my mouth. “He kissed you?” he repeated back. His voice got serious all of a sudden.

I nodded. “It was a rough kiss, too. Obviously.” I mumbled through my lips that I tried not to move.

“I’ll send him home. Hold this.” I took the towel in my hand. I watched him leave the room. He was gone for about five minutes. He walked back in with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, ashamed.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why? You didn’t cause it.”

“But I didn’t stop it, either.”

“It’s not like you heard it.”

“I should have though. Anyway, I’m just sorry.”

I forgave him so he’d feel better. “It’s okay.” He smiled softly.

The rest of the night, I didn’t hear from him. He left through the back door somewhere. When I went out there, he wasn’t on the back porch. Did he run away? That’d be ironic. I walked out into the green for a while, but gave up when I realized there was no sign of him.

When I walked back into the house, Dean greeted me with a purr and rubbed against my foot. “Do you know where Jackson went?” I asked in a soft voice as I crouched down and scratched the crown of his skull. He meowed. “Me either.”

By eleven o’clock, Jackson still wasn’t back. I searched the house again. And even the front and back porch. He was nowhere to be found. I was kind of worried, but I went to bed anyway. I just hope he wasn’t at the bar with Rob again. That’d be a disaster.

What woke me up this time was not a drunken man. Nor was it a simple knock at the door. What woke up me up, sometime late in the night, was a heavy weight on top of my body. I peeked one eye open as I felt warm air on my throat. I recoiled when I saw it was Jackson. I didn’t move much, I was trapped under him. His head was against my neck and he seemed to be sleeping.

“Jackson?” I asked in a tired voice. I slithered out one of my arms from beneath him and grabbed his hair on the back of his head. I tugged his head up. “What on earth are you doing?”

He rolled off of me and laid beside me. His face was turned towards me. Without an answer, he traced his finger down my jaw line. I pulled his finger off and placed his hand beside him. “Where were you today?” I asked.

“Out,” he said like before.

“Tell me now. Rob better not be here. Is he?” He shook his head. “Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“Then where were you?” I exclaimed.

“I went out far into the fields. Out where the forest is,” he admitted.

“Oh, so now you’re a wilderness boy.”

“I just like going out there sometimes. Helps me clear my head. I didn’t say anything in return. His hand wrapped around my body and pulled me in close. When our chests bumped, I tried to pull back.

“Why are you in here?” I asked angrily.

“I didn’t want Robert to be the last one to spend the night with you,” he crooned and started to caress my cheek again.

“Doesn’t mean I want you to,” I made known. I pulled his hands off of my face and slamming them back by his side.

He made a scoffing noise and stroked the side of my body. “So you can confidently say you’re not attracted to me.”I gulped a little as his hands trickled up my body and started playing with my hair, toying it back and forth between his fingers. "You have pretty brown hair."

I ignored his attempts to swoon me over. “I’m not attracted to you. Stop acting narcissistic.” The remark didn’t come out as confident as I wanted it to be. It’s not that I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting the question and it’s been awhile since I’ve been this intimate with a guy.

“That wasn’t confidently,” he smirked.

“You’re a pompous ass.”

He chuckled in response. His hand started to trail back into my hair. He played with a piece between his fingers.

“Would you just get off me? I’ve had enough of touchy-feely Jackson lately,” I jeered, remembering when he pounced at me and pinned me down out on the porch.

“Nope.” His face grew closer to me. The membranes of his lips brushed against the side of my face. They started to near my lips. As his breath got closer, I noticed how it smelled of whiskey, but it wasn’t as intoxicating as Robert’s was. This was only subtle.

I had enough. I flung my body up with enough momentum and twirled us around to the opposite end of the bed so I was on top, staring down at him. I held his body down with my hands on his chest.

“Ha!” I laughed haughtily as I sat up with my legs over both sides of him.

“I could get used to this,” he joked perversely. I snorted and crawled off of him quickly.

“Get out of here,” I demanded once I was on the other side of the bed. I crossed my arms, unamused with his antics.

“Fine, coward.”

“What would I be afraid of?”

“You said you were afraid of physical contact the other night,” he recalled.

I mouthed the words to myself in a mimicking way before I replied. “I said I don’t like it. Not that I’m afraid of it.”

“Same thing.” He started to walk off.

I thought angrily and got up on a rash decision. I didn’t like to be wrong, especially when it was about how I felt. Even though I was neither afraid of or hateful against physical contact.

Before he opened the door, I turned him around and pressed my lips to his in a feral way. I ran my hand up his back and played with the hairs on the back of his neck and up his head. His hands held onto my shoulders. Before he tried to slide his tongue in my mouth I pulled away. “Told you.”

“So you do like me!” I didn’t think of that. Great, that’s not the way I wanted it to play out.

“No!” I insisted. “I was proving a point.”

“You like me, you like me!” He sang as he started to walk out. I chased him down the hallway and smacked the back of his head.

“Do not! I told you I’m not attracted to you. I just kissed you, proving the point that I wasn’t afraid of kissing.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mrs. Rathbone,” he giggled as he went into his room. I kicked the back of his legs and he stumbled off a bit.

“I still hate you,” I shouted back as he shut the door.

“I heart you.” He knew how to get under my skin. I debated on how I should murder him as I shook the doorknob furiously. It was locked. I heard him laugh behind the door. I stomped back off into my room. I wish my door had a lock.