"That's much better," AJ observed, as Marit walked out of the bathroom, evidence of her earlier breakdown washed away and make-up reapplied. She smiled shyly as he walked around the bed to look more closely at her. As he placed a hand on her arm, the smile dropped and she flinched and stepped back. He didn't let go, but instead pulled her a little closer.
"Please, let me go," she said in a small voice, her eyes wide.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked, his eyes searching her face.
"I don't like to be touched," she said, "please?" At the look of pure panic on her face, he dropped her arm and stepped back. She flushed as she remembered that not too long before, he had held her in his embrace, comforting her.
"When I'm conscious of it," she added, lowering her eyes. AJ studied her for a minute, then shrugged and made his way across the room to a chair. Sitting down, he looked up at Marit, who hadn't moved from her spot.
"Okay, I promise, I'll keep my distance, okay? I don't know what your deal is, and it's not my business anyway, but you have to do something for me," he said. She looked up at him expectantly.
"Stop being so prickly! I only want to help you out, okay? I have no ulterior motives, I just think a girl like you needs all the chances she can get. Because I get the feeling life hasn't offered you too many," he added gently. She nodded.
"I'm sorry, I'll try. Trust... it's a hard thing for me," she admitted, with difficulty. She walked over to his chair and hesitantly reached out her hand. Her delicate fingers lightly brushed the back of his hand, before he turned it around. Softly, her fingers curled over his, and he looked up to see her head down, her brow furrowed in concentration, hair falling around her. He smiled slightly to himself before gently interlacing his fingers with hers, capturing her hand in his, their palms meeting, the moment of connection electric. She stilled for a moment, but didn't remove her hand.
"Truce?" he asked tenderly, the merriment in his eyes belying the serious tone of his voice.
"Truce," she replied, a sweet smile curving her lips, as their gazes locked. He stood up then, still holding her hand, and pulled her over to the bed, seating her on the edge of it.
"So what now?" she asked. He removed his hand from hers, the loss of connection leaving him slightly bereft before he turned to rummage in his bag.
"Well, this is what I was thinking," he replied, then turned and stood up. "I kind of came to get away, and I don't know if I'm ready to go back yet. Plus, I'm in the middle of a song." She nodded, unsure of where this was heading.
"So," he continued, "I was planning on staying her for a few days longer." He looked at her expectantly. She shrugged.
"But I wanted to take you with me when I went back to Orlando." Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated his sentence.
"You want me to just up and go with you?" she asked incredulously. "I'm sure you're a nice guy and all, but you could be a serial killer, for all I know." He frowned, sensing a step back in the progress he thought he had made.
"Well, I'm not. I'm a singer. A famous one, I might add," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you, and you really don't have any where else to go."
"I still don't know anything about you, and I can always find someplace to go," she argued determinedly. He sighed in exasperation.
"You want to know something about me?" Reaching over to the nightstand, he picked up the remote and switched the TV on. Flipping through the channels until he reached VH1, he stopped.
"That's our latest video," he said, as Brian's lead in "Show me the Meaning of Being Lonely" filtered into the room. She turned to watch, her attention caught by the melancholy tune and the story being told. As the words to the song struck her, she raised her knees to the bed and rested her chin, contemplating the TV. Too soon, the song ended, and she turned to see AJ staring intently at her, waiting for her reaction.
"Why were you crying?" she asked, referring to his scene on the bus.
"Because," he answered, his eyes never leaving her face, "there's this girl that I like, but it's hard, maybe because we're always gone and I never get to see her, or maybe because she won't let me in." She let the words sink in, looking at him, seeing him for the first time. From the tips of his brown hair, to his thickly lashed brown eyes, and down his sinewy frame, her gaze traveled as if she had never laid eyes on him before. Finally, she met his eyes again and nodded.
"Okay, I'll go with you to Orlando."
Marit walked in through the connecting door, to see AJ seated on the bed, concentrating intently on a piece of paper. He didn't notice her entering from her new room, until she sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, but I thought you might be getting hungry. Should I order room service?" He waved his hand.
"Whatever," he responded, his attention elsewhere. She hesitated for a moment, then crawled across the bed to peer over his shoulder.
"How's it going?" she asked softly. He turned his head to look at her, his face inches from hers.
"Not good. I'm stuck."
"Can I see what you have so far?" she asked timidly. He smiled.
"Normally, I'd say no, but sure why not? Maybe you can inspire me." He handed the papers to her to read.
"Wait, you have to sing it to me," she said. "Otherwise, it's not the same." He looked at her serious expression in amusement.
"Okay," he said. She smiled in approval and stretched out, her feet resting on the pillow, her head on her arms, turning to watch him. He sat up and rifled through the papers, then softly began to sing in a voice she was quickly becoming familiar with.
There are times
When I look at you and wonder
Why I bother, why I care
With every word you rip me open
Tear me asunder
Drag me under
Hold me down
And I'm drowning
In the heartache of your lies
The sorrow of your eyes
In the whisper of your fears
The betrayal of your tears
And I think
This time is it
This time it's over
But I'm lost
To the sweetness of your lips
The touch of your fingertips
To the silk of your skin
The fire that burns within
To the desire in your eyes
The softness of your sighs
And I know
And I know
This time I can't resist
This time is like every other
But that's when I can see
That love is--
He stopped. She looked at him in confusion.
"Why'd you stop? 'Love is' what?" she asked.
"That's just it, I don't know. I'm stuck," he said, smiling ruefully. He looked at her. "What do you think love is?"
"Non-existent," she replied, almost automatically. "I don't believe in love. And people that do are just deluding themselves."
"I see," he responded, not saying anything else, his eyes twinkling. She flushed slightly, and sat up.
"Well, I think it's beautiful and sad and I hope it's a hit. What would you like to eat?" she asked, changing the subject.
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