Young Love

By Belit



Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. Stuck in an elevator?
Author’s Note: In response to the RCWW Blackout Challenge. Had been planning it for ages, it was about damn time.
Warning: Watch out for the lame title.


Ding ding! Swooosh...

The gilded doors of the large elevator opened and Maria DeLuca stepped into the brightly lit hall.

God, how she hated those lights…

It was around 3 AM, the most beloved hours of the day for her, but unfortunately night time was never admitted inside the doors of the Golden Star Residence where only the Roswell’s finest lived. Maria snorted. “Finest my ass…” Rich and stuck up was more like it.

She had been placed there by her agent three years ago. It seemed like a lifetime now. On her way to greatness, Billy had said, she needed to live in glam. Three years had changed a lot of things, like taking Billy completely out of her life (with a restraining order no less), or adding a couple million dollars to her bank account; but even though she had found out that the glamorous life of the stars was nothing but a hoax, it had been convenient to stay in the spacious apartment.

Honestly, she could care less where she lived, but a bit less lighting would have been appreciated. She looked around her and shook her head. And a bit less glitter…

Dragging her slipper clad feet, she walked past the doorman and went straight out to the cool night air. Ahhh… That was exactly what she needed. She closed her eyes and smelled the air; it felt like heaven. Excitingly new and comfortingly familiar at the same time. That was why she liked her life. Those little things made her survive the day, waiting for the next night when she can be by herself in her own peaceful little world.

Letting out a soft sigh, she pulled the slipping shoulders of her long coat and turned towards the deli she knew was open all night. She heard hurried footsteps behind her and turning back instinctively, she spotted a crying girl slip past the golden doors of her building. She shrugged to herself and continued. It was not unexpected to see all kinds of melodramas play themselves in that place when eighty percent of its residents were actors.

The sudden burning in her stomach made her wince and move faster towards her destination. She had shopping to do.

***


“Go home, Parker!”

Ugh, that voice. Just what she hated to hear in her time of peace and quiet.

“Michael, please just talk to me!” The brown haired girl was still crying, her non-existing make up somehow managing to blotch up her face.

Maria let the door close behind her and tried hard to not look at the weird couple standing by the elevators. Michael Guerin was being an asshole, nothing new there. But the girl… she was Elizabeth Parker, was she not? Now that was tabloid material.

The girl was clinging to Guerin with all her might as he tried to get her off his arm. It was kind of funny actually. Maria had always thought that the Parker girl looked a bit like a mouse, and certainly this voice now could be considered proof to that.

“Michael, say something!” she sobbed, one of her hands leaving his arm to reach for his face.

Guerin jerked back. “Stop it! I told you all I had to say. Now leave me the fuck alone!”

“No!!!” she cried. “I know you don’t mean that! I know how you feel. You don’t have to act anymore. I don’t care what they think! I want you!”

Maria rolled her eyes. A first class soap opera. She hoped the security cameras were getting those; surely a lot of money could be made out of them.

“Good evening, Ms. DeLuca.”

Maria jerked out of her thoughts and smiled sweetly at Alex. “What did I tell you about calling me that, Whitman?”

“That you would kick my ass?” Alex grinned.

“Damn straight!” Maria winked at him. “So…” she gestured towards the fighting couple, “…what’s with those two? And why the hell are we still putting up with the bastard anyway?”

“Well, from what I gathered, Liz Parker is in love with Guerin, and Guerin is having a hard time explaining to her that she was nothing but a one night stand. Same old, same old…”

Maria chuckled.

“As for the second part… his brother owns the building.” He shrugged helplessly.

Maria’s eyes glinted with amusement. “The same brother that is engaged to our little Ms. Minnie Mouse here?”

“Yup!” Alex nodded. “That’s the one.”

“My my…” Maria muttered. “Now that’s what I call entertainment.” They both stared at the couple with amazed expressions. “You think I can get into an elevator unscathed?”

Alex nodded reassuringly. “I have faith in you.”

“O-kay. Here we go. Wish me luck.”

***


Michael pushed a hand through his hair and swore. He wasn’t going to hit a girl. Nope, he definitely was not. Just a bit more patience…

“Look, Parker. I told you what I felt and I am telling you again. It. Meant. Nothing. Understand?”

“No!!!”

Whoever found a crying woman beautiful had to be nuts. Liz Parker looked like a drowned rat. She was disgusting and annoying, and for the life of him Michael couldn’t remember how he had managed to have sex with her in the first place.

“That’s it!” he said and pushed her roughly back towards the wall between the elevators. Trapping her hands effectively, he told her what he had been trying to make her understand for hours. “I don’t like you. I never liked you. And I most certainly don’t want you.”

“I love you,” Liz protested weakly.

Michael shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. You don’t love me. You don’t even know me…” Liz began to say something, but Michael cut her off before she could start her tirade again. “…no, Liz, and I don’t want you to get to know me.”

“But you… why?” she looked terribly confused and Michael felt bad for her for a moment. “You’re just scared because you feel something too—”

Argh! He was positive that he was going to start ripping his hair out any minute now. “No! I don’t feel shit! I fucked you once, just once, and it wasn’t even good!”

The sound of the slap echoed in the otherwise silent hall, but Michael didn’t even wince. It was over at least. She had finally gotten the point.

***


Maria slipped into the elevator unnoticed and waited impatiently for the doors to close. The Parker girl was no doubt stupid and mousy, but still, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. God knew what lies that monster had told her to get her into bed. She was sure that slap had been deserved through and through.

Ding ding!

The doors started to close and she sighed in relief. She was going to die right there if she didn’t make it to her apartment in a minute. She watched hypnotized as the gilded doors slid to left, covering the gap slowly. Three inches, two inches, one inch…

She jolted back with the sudden appearance of a hand in between the slowly closing door and the wall of the elevator. A hand that could belong to only one person…

Michael Guerin joined a too-shocked-to-push-him-out Maria DeLuca inside the Elevator Number 2 of the Golden Star Residence at precisely 03:17 AM, and the gilded doors slid closed behind him this time without interference.

Ding ding!

***


03:17 AM

Slowly examining the uncomfortable girl up and down, Michael smirked appreciatively. He nodded to her in greeting. “Maria.”

“That is Ms. DeLuca to you,” Maria said, pulling her coat closer to her body.

Michael chuckled. “Pleasant as usual, I see.”

“To you, always!” Maria spat.

Michael held his heart, grinning. “You wound me.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Asshole,” she muttered.

Michael watched her from the corner of his eyes as she watched the numbers change on the screen. 9… 10… 11… She looked tired. Sick. There were bags under her eyes; and Michael figured the papers would probably pay thousands to catch her with that hair. She looked like she got right out of bed. He grinned to himself. Ten seconds until he started thinking about her in bed. He was improving.

“Stop watching me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Asshole.”

“Very creative.”

“Not as good as little Ms. Parker I’m afraid.”

“She’s delusional.”

“Whatever.”

Maria kept watching the little red numbers, willing them to go faster. 18… 19… 20… Yes, almost there…

The disturbingly bright lights in the elevator suddenly went off and the cabin stopped in between floors.

“Of course!” Maria said. “The night just keeps getting better and better.”

***


03:18 AM

They stood, unable to move or talk in the pitch darkness for a full minute. Then Maria’s stomach reminded her she needed to move, again, and be fast about it.

“Oh, fuck! DeLuca, look where you’re going!”

“There are no lights, dimwit!”

“Oh, really? And that requires you to stomp on my feet, why?”

“I gotta…” she pushed him out of the way and reached for the control panel. “Yes, here!”

“Yes, here, what?”

“The phone.”

Maria pushed the button which she hoped was for ringing Alex and waited. “Yeah?”

“Alex?” she practically yelled in relief.

“Maria?”

“Yeah. Alex, you gotta save me. I am stuck in the elevator. With Michael Guerin. Get me out of here!”

“Okay, okay, calm down. The generator should—”

The small cabin suddenly got lit by a dim light.

“Ahh, yes, finally. Anyway, I’ll try to see what I can do about the power. Talk to you in a bit. Uh, and Maria, please don’t kill him.”

Maria hung up the phone. It was easy for him to say.

***


03:19 AM

Maria settled on the floor and opened the grocery bag she had with her. Michael watched her intently as she pulled out a carton of milk and took a huge gulp from it.

“I thought ladies weren’t supposed to do that.”

A death glare. He was used to that.

“Ah, not a lady, I forgot.”

“Fuck off, Guerin.”

“Can’t,” Michael shrugged, sitting down on the opposite corner.

Maria closed her eyes and leaned her head back to rest it on the wall. The burning was killing her, and she could practically feel Michael’s eyes on her body.

“Stop staring at my legs, Guerin.”

***


03:20 AM

It was not an easy feat to keep his eyes away when he had a pair of long, smooth, milky white legs stretched up before him. It certainly didn’t help that she was wearing only a cream nightgown under her coat. He wished they had more lights so he could see if it indeed was transparent as he suspected. And there was the annoying fact that she was holding the upper part of her coat tightly closed. Annoying… yep, that was DeLuca alright!

“I said stop staring.”

“There’s nothing else to do.”

She knew that teasing tone. Irritating bastard! “God, I hate you.”

“You always say that.”

“And I hate elevators. I fucking hate this building!”

Michael grinned. “I remember differently.”

Maria’s glare clearly said ‘Don’t you dare…’ But of course, when it was a dare, he just had to go further.

“I remember you having a lot of fun last time we were in this elevator together.”

Maria grimaced, her anger coiling in her stomach. “Well, I remember nothing. Guess you are not as memorable as you think you are.”

That was a low blow, but he had a life long experience at hiding his surprise. It was not hurt that showed on his face, but a cheeky grin. “Well, I can certainly help you remember…”

“You are an asshole, Michael Guerin, and I am no Liz Parker.”

Oh, he was well aware of that…

***


03:50 AM

“Alex? ALEX?! Where the fuck are you?”

Maria was on the verge of tears. It had been a thirty minutes from hell. The cabin was getting uncomfortably hot; Michael Guerin was annoying as ever; and her ulcer was just about killing her. Alex was going to get his ass kicked really soon.

“ALEX?!!!”

“Will you stop with the yelling?! Geez! Give me that thing.”

Maria huffed and slumped down on the floor, holding her stomach as if she was afraid it would burst. She closed her eyes and started counting inwardly as she listened to the sounds of Michael trying to get someone to answer.

“Whitman, you there?”

A pause.

“Finally! Where have been, man? Will you be getting us out anytime soon?”

A long silence and then a soft “Oh, shit. What about the generator?”

Another uncomfortable pause. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit what?” Maria asked from her place on the floor, her eyes still closed.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s still alive and irritating as ever.”

A short pause. “You sure? She is in a very pissy mood. Okay, then.”

Michael held out the receiver to Maria. “He wants to talk to you.”

Maria pulled herself up, her face a mask of pain, and grabbed the receiver as she slumped to the wall. “Alex?”

“You doing okay there?”

“No,” Maria said in a small voice. “You have to get me out of here. It’s hot and my ulcer is killing me. Please tell me you’ll get me out, pleeease?”

“I’m trying, Maria. I swear I will get you out as soon as possible. You just hang in there, okay?”

Maria sighed and hung her head in defeat.

“I better go. Take care of yourself.”

“Okay.”

***


04:00 AM

“So you got ulcer?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“Milk helps?”

“Give the man a prize!”

“Bitch.”

“Asshole.”

***


04:30 AM

“It’s TOO damn HOT!!!”

“Take the coat off, genius.”

Maria gave him a Look.

Michael arched an eyebrow. “What? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Maria rolled her eyes but took the coat off grudgingly. Purposefully keeping her eyes away from him, she spread the coat on the floor and curled up on it.

“Stop staring.”

***


Okay, so, maybe it was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but it still had the same effect on him. Maria DeLuca was bad enough when she was properly dressed; having her inches away from him, covered only with a flimsy nightgown was torture in its purest form.

His eyes roamed over her curled up body; discovering, memorizing, remembering… She was perfect, even when she was sick and sweaty. She had been right, she was definitely no Liz Parker; she was so much more. And that was a fact Michael had realized long before she told him.

He couldn’t remember the exact date; it had to be around two years ago, when he had first moved into this building. He had felt like a fish out of water; everything was too big suddenly, everything was too fragile. Moving from the trailer to the Golden Star, meeting his siblings for the first time and seeing the life he could have led… he had been scared out of his mind. The indifferent façade he had perfected over the years had helped him maintain his dignity, but the storms and the fear inside his head had caused him to lose a lot of things along the way; he had made the most destructive mistakes.

Maria DeLuca was the one he regretted most.

He could remember the first time he had seen her, not on TV but in person. He could remember exactly how she looked and how he felt. He could remember how that one single person in one single moment had changed him forever. It hurt that she never knew… from that moment on, for Michael Guerin, the name Maria DeLuca had replaced the word beauty.

He was an asshole; Maria was right about that. She wasn’t quite aware of it, but he was a stupid asshole to top it all off. The stupidest. Life had given him a chance; one he had never deserved, and he had blown it… Oh, he had blown it spectacularly.

***


05:00 AM

Maria woke up with a jolt and grimaced at the pain throbbing inside her body. She was feeling so miserable, it was a feat to stop herself from crying. The tiny cabin was stifling hot and a thick layer of sweat was covering all her muscles, each and every one of them aching from misuse.

This had to be hell.

She sat up on her coat, moaning as her legs protested to her movements. She tried to push back her long, matted hair, wishing futilely for one of her millions of hair accessories to help her tame the wild waves. Money isn’t everything, she told herself with a smirk. Can’t buy love, can’t buy companionship, can’t buy peace… It can’t even buy a freaking properly working elevator. Should have been a hippy like mom…

Her arms lifted up, holding her hair as far away from her skin as possible, she froze. A pair of intense eyes staring at her like… well… intensely. Her heart was thumping madly in her chest. She had almost forgotten who she was trapped with. She remembered her words from earlier: Guess you are not as memorable as you think you are. It was funny. Not true; but still funny.

She remembered Michael Guerin. She remembered every detail about that night. And she remembered how she had been left afterwards. Her mom was right; men were more trouble than they were worth. Sex was not all she wanted; and since it appeared that it was all she was ever going to get from men, she chose to live with the minimum of it.

She did regret her decision from time to time… Like now… trapped in an elevator with a sweaty Michael Guerin staring at her like she was water and he was dying of dehydration… But no. It would pass. She could control her urges. Not again. Not again. Never again.

“Stop. Staring.”

***


The nightgown was teasingly transparent in places; and it firmly fit her body in all the right curves. Her chest was pushed up tantalizingly, and thin straps that were supposed to be supporting the garment was falling down her shoulders unnoticed. She always wore things that would have looked artificial on other women and somehow managed to make them appear like a part of her own body. She carried the fanciest outfits with a carefree grace that was probably making the rest of the female population mad with jealousy. It sure was making him mad with lust.

“Stop. Staring.”

Ah, that stubborn streak she had had become just another attraction for him. That woman had been created to torment him with her presence. Her voice, her eyes, her body, her smell, the way she chewed her lip when deep in thought, the way she rolled her eyes at him… He couldn’t understand how it was possible for such a detached person like him to get so obsessed with a pop queen like Maria DeLuca.

It was beyond comprehension. But there, nonetheless.

“You should have worn something less revealing if you didn’t want the attention.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t exactly planning to get stuck in a stupid elevator with you.”

“What were you doing then?” Michael said, scrambling from the place he had been sitting for the last half hour to reach for her grocery bag.

“Hey, do you mind?!”

“Come on, I’m hungry!”

Maria sat back sulking and watched as Michael went through her bag.

“Pickles… chocolate… milk… chocolate… chocolate… and chocolate.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “You needed pickles and chocolate at 3 AM? No wonder you have ulcer.”

Maria crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. “Not your damn business.”

“What if I make it my damn business?”

“You have no right—”

“Oh, stop being such a princess!”

“Me?” Maria sputtered. “I am being a princess?! Just who the fuck do you think you are?!”

Michael sat back with a smug expression. He couldn't help but feel victorious for having incited such a strong reaction from the petite girl. Her eyes were flashing with fury and the green flames shining in them made his breath catch in his throat. “Winning a stupid MTV Award doesn’t make you a higher being, you know. You are still just another girl. A stupid, vain, pop queen. If it annoys that I don’t bow in front of you, you’ll just have to deal.”

“You— you asshole! You don’t know me! I never—” Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths to calm herself down. “I am sure you were not calling me just another girl when you were bragging about having fucked an MTV Awards winner.” She looked at him with a slight smirk to show him that she was not affected, but the smug look in his eyes at the mention of his conquest made her more furious than she had let herself feel in years. “What gives you the right to judge me, huh? At least I did not fuck my brother’s fiancée! At least I make my own money and not live off my family! At least I have the dignity to say I did something with my life! So fuck you, Michael Guerin! I don’t give a shit about what you think of me or the way I live my life!”

A deafening silence took over as both occupants of the elevator held their breaths, waiting for an explosion. It did not come. What came instead was a sharp cry of pain as the blonde girl clutched her stomach and doubled over. Michael winced and caught the slight body, cursing his ability to dig himself into holes under his breath.

When was he going to grow up?

***


05:25 AM

“Are you okay?”

Maria opened her eyes to find herself lying snugly in Michael Guerin’s lap, with one of his hands in her hair and the other holding her body in place. He didn’t look infuriating for once as he gazed down at her with a concerned look, but Maria was too overcome with anger and pain already to let that little fact affect her.

“Don’t touch me.”

Her instincts were screaming at her to struggle and get out of his grasp, but the spasms in her stomach demanded otherwise. Now she knew what could possibly be worse than being trapped in an elevator: being trapped in Michael Guerin’s arms in an elevator. She ignored the voice in her head that reminded her how enjoyable she had found the same situation last time, and focused on giving the face looming above her the best glare she could manage under the circumstances.

“Shut up, DeLuca.”

“You can’t—”

“Yeah, yeah…” Michael said dismissively. “You can bitch all you want once we’re out of this thing. But until then, you’re gonna shut up and act like a good girl. The last thing we need is a gastric bleeding here.”

Maria tried to look annoyed, but ended up pouting instead. “If this is a plot to get into my pants—”

Michael smirked, hiding hurt behind fake amusement. “You know me so well,” he said sarcastically.

Maria raised an eyebrow questioningly. “What’s there to know?”

The mask on his face froze in a grimace and Michael averted his eyes. “Yeah,” he managed to say before his voice cracked.

He had underestimated their potential. Apparently this thing between them could get worse. And it just now had.

***


05:27 AM

She had won.

There had always been a sort of war between them, and she suspected that each had been subconsciously keeping score. Until now, she had been sure that he would win. After all, he was the guy. He had the advantage by default. They had had sex, and it had been his conquest by God knows what rule. Refusing to acknowledge the fact didn’t mean she didn’t hurt when he ignored her afterwards. She had buried her hurt deep inside, refusing to dwell on it, refusing to let it keep her from moving on, and had managed to be a bitch in response to every guy that was being an asshole. And now… Now she had won despite all her past mistakes. She was not stupid: that look, that face… she had finally cracked him.

That didn’t explain why she was feeling all awkward about it though.

The silence was disturbing; the thought of leaving the conversation at that even more so. She watched the stony expression on his face and her lips moved without a sound. Say something… Say something…

“I am not wrong, am I?” Her voice sounded arrogant and bitchy, but it was still better than the silence.

He looked down at her briefly before fixing his gaze back on the wall.

“You did sleep with your brother’s mousy fiancée.”

His eyes fell down to her face again, making her fear that he could read the uncertainty in hers.

“Why would I wanna do that?”

Maria raised an eyebrow at the impassive question. “How should I know? She’s not even that pretty. You were drunk maybe? Or it was a bet?”

That elicited a smile from the scruffy looking man.

“Was it a power trip or something?” Maria suggested with an answering smile of her own.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I am asking, right?”

“Not your business anyway.”

“I’m making it my business.”

“Stop being a bitch.”

“So it was a power thing then?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Michael…”

Michael closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he tried to calm himself. She already thought he was the lowest scum on earth; digging this deeper would not make him gain points in her eyes. If she just let this go, they would at least leave this elevator as they had entered. Not better or worse. Talking could get them in trouble. It always had in the past.

“Let it go.”

Maria glared at him and finally snapped. “I don’t understand that no talking policy of yours. Why the hell not? You fuck me and not look me in the eye again afterwards. Are you that much of a coward? Couldn't you just say ‘I don’t wanna see you again.’? Now, I know you’ve fucked that girl; why the hell not tell me the reason? Do you really have none? Am I giving you more credit than you deserve? Cause if so—”

“Shut up about the things you don’t know.” Michael hissed.

“Then who knows, Michael? Who? I honestly doubt that it’s dear Elizabeth.” She caught her breath and her eyes softened. “Is no one good enough to know Michael Guerin or is it just me?”

“It’s… it’s not pretty.”

“No one is.”

Michael gulped nervously, his eyes traveling around the small cabin like a trapped animal. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Their eyes met and the green gaze held the brown one insistently. Maria DeLuca with nothing better to do was a scary thing. Michael knew she wasn’t expecting what she would be getting. He knew it would be a mistake… a big one. He was sure he would regret it terribly afterwards. But something inside him had given way and he couldn’t not say it.

“It wasn’t about her. It was Max. I was drunk and… well… it just happened.”

“Why were you angry with him?”

Michael ran his fingers through his hair. How many questions did that girl have? “Why shouldn’t I be?” he said gruffly.

“Well… long lost brother, found after years and welcomed to the rich and famous family with open arms… Shouldn’t you guys be, like, close?”

He snorted. “Don’t tell me you buy all that bullshit?”

“Of course,” she said sarcastically, “the papers said so.”

“Maxwell is an asshole who has the best of everything… everything I never had. I just wanted a taste I guess,” he shrugged noncommittally. “Didn’t like it.”

“Aaah,” Maria said, understanding dawning in her eyes. “So you weren’t really fucking Liz. You were fucking Maxwell.”

Michael looked at her long and hard, wondering if he would ever be able to figure her out. He nodded slowly. “Yeah, you could say that.” Tearing his gaze away, he grimaced. “I could have lived without that mental image though.”

Maria let out a girly giggle, and Michael’s heart leapt despite its heaviness at the beaming smile she directed at him.

***


06:00 AM

Maria groaned and turned once again, making her pillow (a very disgruntled Michael Guerin) swear in return. She buried her face in the sweat soaked t-shirt Michael was wearing and talked against his stomach muscles, her words tickling his skin and making him shiver. “It’s too hot. I’m all sweaty. I wanna get out of here.”

Unable to decide if she should take Michael’s grunt as an affirmative response or not, she continued. “I think I’m going to die here. A very tragic end to such a talented, bright, young artist. My fans will leave flowers all over the building and you’ll have to move because the reporters won’t leave you alone. I’ll never get to eat another pickle sandwich and I’ll never get to practice with Alex again. No one will ever know my own songs. That is so sad. Don’t you think it is sad?”

Michael grunted.

“I’ll never—”

A buzzing sound interrupted her self-pity fest and Maria reached in her coat to find her cell. “I didn’t know I had it with me,” she mumbled as she pressed the OK button.

“Hello?”

Michael heard her moan and something twitched inside him again. It was a good thing he was too hot to move.

“Billy?” Maria said in a strained voice and Michael’s body tensed at the name. He wasn’t big on the gossip pages, but he couldn’t help but listen every time her name came up on the TV. He knew very well who Billy was. Maria continued in a weary voice. “I really can’t talk right now. I am hot and sweaty and lying on top of a very sexy man. Maybe later, okay? Bye.”

She threw the phone away and growled. “Asshole.”

***


06:18 AM

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? This?”

“Yes.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re ticklish?”

“Not ticklish. Just a normally functioning male.”

“You can’t be serious. How can you be thinking of sex right now? It’s so cramped here. It’s hot and we’re all... eww... sweaty. I need a bath.”

Michael gave her an unbelieving look, full of barely controlled lust.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Male libido. That’s why I gave up on men completely. Too damn easy. Too damn shallow.”

“Gave up on men? What, you’re gay now?”

“Nah. Tried that. Didn’t work. I don’t think I’m fit for relationships. I don’t know. Something must be wrong somewhere.”

Michael groaned. Another mental image that would haunt his dreams.

***


07:00 AM

Michael jolted awake from his dream when the floor started shaking. It took him a while to realize where he was and who was sleeping with her head on his stomach. By the time he did, the elevator had reached 10th floor.

“Maria, get up.”

Maria moaned and turned away, mumbling something about cat food. Michael pulled her hair away from her face and decided to not wake her just yet. She was obviously spent.

Wrapping his arms around her fragile body, he rested his back against the wall and lifted her up. Light as a feather. Just like he remembered.

“Michael?” she mumbled against his chest and he felt her eyelashes flutter through the thin fabric of his now completely wet t-shirt.

“Ssshh. It’s okay. We’re getting out of here.”

“We are?” she asked, her words getting lost in a yawn.

“I think so.”

Maria rested her cheek against his chest and watched the numbers on the screen change. Too fast for her liking.

“Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s… uhm… what’s gonna happen now?”

His gaze fixed on the flickering screen, he tried to swallow the lump of dread growing in his throat. “You go to your life with your chocolate and pickles and concerts, and I go to mine, finally free of your prodding questions.”

“Do you think that’s—”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, we could—”

“No. You know it wouldn’t work anyway. I know you mean well, Maria, but I’m not a kitten you found on the street.”

Maria looked up, not really understanding his reasoning. She reached with her hand in a daze to cup his cheek, and brought her face closer involuntarily, aligning their lips. Her eyes flickered from his lips to his questioning eyes and she whispered: “I just…”

It all happened in the space of a heart beat: Michael realized she was going to kiss him, leaned in to welcome the yearned touch, but saw the number on the screen turn to “0” and flinched back just in time to see the doors glide open gracefully to reveal the brightly lit hall of the Golden Star Residence, full of reporters, a very flustered looking Alex Whitman and a grinning Liz Parker.

Ding ding!

***


07:20 AM

It had taken the three of them a whole 15 minutes to keep the reporters out of the elevator long enough to close the doors once again. Michael, who had sworn off elevators after the stifling night spent in one, had welcomed the hot but peaceful cabin with a sigh. “I hope they won’t kill Whitman.”

Maria nodded, looking down at her hands. They had taken pictures, lots of them, and they would end up on the front page by the next morning. She had been so stupid. “You were right,” she mumbled without looking at him. What had seemed cruel minutes before was very clearly true in her eyes now.

“About?”

“It would never work.”

“Oh.”

They didn’t talk after that.

***


03:40 AM

Maria slept twelve hours straight and then spent the next eight or so wallowing in self pity in her bed; her dreams were restless, and her thoughts were always on the door to her left. What was he doing? What was he thinking? What was he feeling? She tried to think of all the disgusting habits he had, all the manners he lacked, all the typical male behavior he possessed that she so fiercely detested, but one picture of his chocolate brown eyes flashing through her mind took care of them.

She was hopeless. Hopelessly in love? In like? In lust? Hopelessly in need of getting laid? She couldn’t find the will to care either way.

Something inside her craved something about him. It was unreasonable, primal, uncontrollable. Trying to smother herself with her pillow was not helping.

20 steps. It was all it would take. But her knees were weak and crying her frustration to her pillow was a lot less terrifying.

***


06:02 AM

Ding dong!

Maria pulled herself out of bed, and walked blindly towards the source of the annoying sound. She didn’t bother with her robe; the pajamas would have to suffice for whoever it was assaulting her door at this hour. Hitting the light button reflexively on her way, she let her eyelids open halfway. The plan was simple: destroy the annoyance, go back to the warm bed and soft sheets. She had not, however, thought she would be finding the object of her confusion on the doorstep.

Michael, looking nervous and fidgety, held up his arm as if he had planned the fairly simple move thoroughly beforehand. There was a newspaper clutched in his fist and as Maria tried to blink away her sleep, his fingers loosened their hold on the folded half, letting it drop to reveal a picture of her on the front page, snuggling in his arms.

She blushed at the title (Young Love) and stammered. “I’m… uhh…”

She shook her head. This was not the way to spend this night; her day had been dreadfully long, she needed the simplicity of sleep. This—the papers, Michael… it was too much for now.

Nodding to herself in agreement, she turned around to head back to bed.

After the first couple of stumbling steps it occurred to her that she had not given an explanation to him; that was not very polite now, was it? And she had definitely not closed her door, which was even worse.

So she turned back, gliding on her mismatched socks over the slippery floor towards the open door and the uncomfortable looking young man.

Close the door, explain, walk back, and sleep.

Or was it: explain, walk back, close the door, and sleep?

She moved to close the door, but Michael was on the other side and how was she supposed to explain anything with a door between them? Her brain was still sleeping. She pulled the surprised man inside, closed the door and explained: “I’ve got to sleep.”

The walk back wasn’t supposed to be that long, but it was only expected since she was dragging a protesting Michael with her. Finally reaching her destination, she moaned at the heavenly sight of her bed and threw herself on it. Michael stood on the spot he left her, looking like a lost puppy.

Half opening one eye, Maria looked him over. “Take off your shoes… and shirt.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but her whining voice cut him off. “Pleeeeease just do it.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Michael complied.

***


“You make such a great pillow.”

Michael rolled his eyes.

“Mmmm…”

“I thought I told you not to do that!”

Maria giggled. She looked up at his face with hooded eyes.

“So… Young Love.”

“Yeah. That’s what they say.”

“Must be true then.”

Michael nodded. “The papers say so.”

Maria sighed and shrugged. “Alright then.” Pushing herself up on her elbows, she captured his lips in a slow, sleepy kiss that felt like closing a deal more than being passionate to Michael. But it was a genuine Maria DeLuca kiss and he was sure his heart would burst once the real meaning hit him.

Maria let her body rest on his and snuggled closer to his warmth. This was good. Much better than sleeping alone. She dropped a kiss on the smooth skin under his cheek. She could now sleep, then wake up to have a boyfriend and have sex with the said very sexy boyfriend and then eat some chocolate.

Yeah. It was a great plan.

Or maybe: they could have sex now and she could sleep later and her boyfriend could eat the chocolate?

Oh, nevermind.

THE END