Limes with Lipstick

Like I'm on trial,
I'm in denial,
That was our past.

Chapter Fifteen: Your Secrets

Escaping wasn't meant for certain people. Elaine was one of those few people who tried to forget and nearly succeeded, but had failed in the end. The past itself was known to be a tricky thing, especially whenever it decided to recall itself into the present. Déjà vu, serendipity, coincidence, or fate – sometimes even when you've thought that you'd shrouded yourself in darkness, the light of the truth still remained.

Elaine fell in love at an impossible age to an unbearable person. This person was as good as a blur at the back of her mind. She couldn't make out his face, couldn't even properly hear his voice anymore. She'd probably made it all up. Her heart had crumbled once she'd realized that she'd lost her one and only friend, real or not.

She turned away from the body strewn beside her, a firm arm keeping her close to the wall of his chest. She was naked beneath the sheets, contented and heavy with sleep. The phone on the end table kept going off, giving an annoying beep. It was a sound she was used to hearing, but for the actor, it was beginning to become goddamned annoying.

He reached behind to grab it, refusing to let go of her warmth. He'd rather surrender to the incessant buzzing noise, than to release her. Elaine would need to be consoled once she awoken, he'd bet. She expressed having not liked him raising her arm and exposing his feelings for her like a champ. They'd just won the unholy title of typical relationships. Then he took her back to his hotel room and roughly, albeit hotly changed her mind about things.

It was embarrassing for her and a resolute black hole for him. He was ready to be out in the open with her, even if the backlash might potentially be harmful for her. He should be worrying more about the extreme focus of the cameras or the articles. He would be hurting his fans, no doubt. It would draw emotions away from his and Margot's on-screen chemistry. His confession would either be a bad thing or…hell, still a bad thing.

He cracked an eye open at the phone in his hand, half expecting it to be his own. A thumb slid across the unlock screen and a text window popped up from where it had left off from last night. The person's name was 'Gee'. He may have heard it once or twice. There was very little he knew about Elaine, not that it had mattered since the road they traveled down was intense from the start.

Jared paused at the thought. He'd just thrown down for her and he hardly even knew her. How ridiculous…

Gee
Subject: ?!

- Did you see that photo your mom
posted last night?
- It looks a lot like Jared in the picture.
- Cheese and crackers…pick up your phone, lady! I
think you should see this. I'm sending
it to you right now.
[Picture message]
Sent at 12:12AM

He stared hard at the picture, recognizing it almost immediately, dressed in the plaid shirt and washed jeans of his youth. It was taken in the backyard of his old home, the place where his life hadn't fallen to complete disarray yet. His brother was there, along with his mother, and the woman who lived next door. It was the mother who would work all day and night, leaving him to babysit her…brat.

There was blood everywhere, staining the tiles where she laid on the floor. She was crying hard, mostly in shock. Children would do that, even if the wound wasn't all that bad, but Jared knew better. It was bad. No, it was fucking awful. It was his fault, the whole mess, her cut, and the fact that she would never trust him again. She had issues trusting others since the beginning for such a young child, which had been devastating on its own, but now he'd practically secured a lifelong trauma for the girl.

He grabbed the cloth from the oven handle and held it behind her ear where the cut was still flowing thick droplets of blood. The towel was seeped through within moments, but he kept his hand steadied. He had to be calm, he reminded himself. For her and for his own sake.

She was a small, fragile little girl – a broken little girl. He had grabbed her arms so tightly then that he thought for sure her bones would snap in half. Yes, he was leaving. Yes, he would never see her again. Yes, he was happy about that fact. When he'd shoved her away, he hadn't expected her to fall. Not at that angle and not that hard.

He'd already tried reaching out for her, before her head met the side of wooden frame, but it was too late. The jagged, splintered surface caught her right behind her ear. She'd landed in the kitchen where she had remained since, whimpering, her small body wracking violently with sobs.

"I'm so sorry, Laney." He brought her small body onto his lap, cradling her head gently to one side, as the other continued to try and stop the bleeding. His pants were warm and sticky with it, causing him to groan inwardly at the realization. "I think we'll need to go to the hospital."

The cut would need stitches, but he'd neglect to tell her that part and let the doctors do it for him. He really didn't need her refusing to go. He didn't want to be forceful after what had just transpired. She was too hysterical to say anything in response to him. He lifted her carefully and brought her out to his jeep. The girl was pale with fear, making her nose and lips look all the more red in comparison. He fastened her seatbelt and instructed her to hold her hand against the towel.

"It'll be okay."

The promise he failed to keep. The stitching process had been a nightmare, even when he held her against him firmly. She shoved at his chest, feeble and useless, screaming, and trying to wrench him away from her.

"Hold her still."

He turned his head away, the nails pressing into her arms dug in hard enough to leave marks. The boy could hardly endure the fact that he'd done this to her.

It was a farewell present.

Jared moved his hands up along her spine, careful in doing so, as to not wake her, but needing her to turn more towards him. He brought her hair away from the back of her neck and inspected the newly revealed expanse of skin. He could already see it. It was paler than the rest of her skin, standing out in a harsh contrast. The scar he'd marked her with…He ran his fingers over it gently, tracing along its curve with a sinking feeling.

Elaine…Laney…It felt like the air had suddenly left his lungs. His body grew still. It felt like he was underwater, too slow to move, or to process anything. He drew his arms around her waist and held her more firmly. She nuzzled against his chest, pressing her face into the junction between neck and shoulder. The light sounds of her breathing dragged him in further and further beneath the waves.

His heart was a thundering pulse, hard, and uneven. The actor was surprised it hadn't disturbed her from her slumber. He slowly detangled himself from her arms and closed his hand around her phone. Irrational thoughts plagued him. Delete the text messages. Get rid of her phone. He slid into a pair of washed jeans.

Laney, always sick with eyes swollen with tears. The child he'd shrugged off his shoulders as though she were nothing. The woman he was currently sleeping with. He rubbed a hand over his face in a lousy attempt to clear his mind. He paced the room, bare feet stepping onto the cold marbled floors. He needed time to speak with her, before she found out on her own.

He turned off her phone and placed it in the pocket of his jeans. His feelings for her were swirled, the intensity of them certainly not lessening. There was a dull pain inside his chest, the kind that overwhelmed him whenever he felt devastated. There were only a few times. Jared was shaking with chills by the time he crawled back into bed, welcomed by the layers of bedding and the warmth radiating from her body. She was pulling him in closer.

This brat…

She nuzzled up against him, lips gently brushing over the sensitive skin along his neck. He stared ahead at the wall, struggling to remain calm and not give in so easily. He could clearly remember how wonderful she felt, how perfect, and soft. He'd love nothing more than to roll her over and show her just how delightful morning sex could be with him, but the young Elaine flashed at the front of his mind again and again. It bitterly reminded him that she had bled and cried for him.

Small hands roamed up his back. She wasn't upset, surprisingly. No, she was something else entirely, something he knew all too well. Little by little, he felt himself break into even smaller pieces for her. He wanted to sink beneath her touch and have the world swallow him whole, because he didn't deserve anything at the moment.
He wound his toned arms around her, because he was truly apologetic. He pulled her as close as humanly possible to the point where he was trembling from the intensity. The bite of her nails made him gasp, but they remained like that for as long as time would allow it to happen.

"I can't breathe, but I don't want to move," She said, laughing at the childish statement.

He loosened his grip on her, however slight, "I'm sorry."

"For squeezing me or revealing to all that I am 'your woman'?" Elaine brought her face to the front of his chest, deciding that was a safe place to hide for the moment. She tried mocking his voice, going deeper, "'This woman is with me.' Were we filming a drama or what?"

This was a happy revelation for her and it was a long time coming. She had to call Gee later on. She must gloat, especially since they had repaired their friendship. A part of her felt the need to go tell Clark, too. She wanted everyone to come and frolic with her. After so long of bitterness and hopelessness, from running away from every relationship that presented itself, she was steadily easing herself into it once again.

And she was ready.

She was silly for thinking that it would never be possible again.

Elaine adjusted herself so that she could stare up at him, worried about his unusual 'bout of silence. It was rare that he wasn't quick to banter with her. His eyes were as hard as stone, all traces of softness gone, and she felt her stomach tighten nervously.

"Jared?"

There was a long pause where she held her breath. Then he was suddenly reaching up and placing a hand behind her ear. He traced over her scar in slow circles, staring at her pointedly. "Where did you get this?"

"Oh, you saw it?" She rested her hand on top of his, beaming back a shy smile. The past was always a blur. "I honestly don't remember…I think I fell? It's my battle scar. I keep trying to come up with outrageous stories for it, but uh…"

"You think you fell?" He narrowed his blue eyes at her, trying to determine whether she was lying to him or if she truly didn't remember. He pressed her, impatiently, "What was your childhood like, Elaine?"

She frowned slightly, "Why are you asking me this suddenly?"

"I don't know anything about you. Not really." But now he wanted to know more, no – he needed to know, he starved for it. He wanted to see how much she remembered. He wanted to know that he didn't ruin her whole damn life. There were things he wished he could take away, regrets that still haunted him. And even though he knew enough about her past, he knew nothing of her adulthood. As far as he was concerned, he hurt her back then, and hurt her even now.

He was royally and irrevocably fucked up. Only God would serve him this dish.

"My father left my mom when I was young, but she got remarried to a guy named Chris. Great guy…" These weren't the answers he wanted from her.

"It must have been lonely." She'd been babysat by an egotistical asshole that treated her like shit like it was his favorite pastime. He needed her to say it.

"Not always alone, I don't think. I have a hard remembering it, but there was someone else around, someone who took care of me." She squinted, finding it difficult now more than ever. The closest she ever got to him was in her dreams and what she remembered changed every time. "He moved away though and I didn't take it very well. He was my only friend and I can't even remember it…"

"Elaine," he said, swallowing thickly at the lump in his throat. It pained him to even breathe and his mind was numb. It was all wrong, the way she had put it. He was a fucking bastard. No good like everyone said. He smoothed his hand down the side of her neck, before pulling her to him forcibly.

He kissed her softly at first, just to feel the softness of her lips. He kissed her, because it was the only thing he knew that would calm them both down. His body was constantly on autopilot, always a physical reaction first, before his thoughts kicked in. It was wrong maybe, but she felt good. He parted her mouth with his tongue and pushed his knee between her thighs. She was already wet, rocking her hips along his leg in the same rhythm he'd started.

'You can't leave! Please!' He drew back as though he were burned, a heavy sound passing through him. She took his reaction as one of pleasure, as she turned so that she was straddling his waist then.

The sheet fell away from her body in a cascade, pooling around her hips. She wasn't as timid as before, there was little hesitation when she leaned down for another draw of his lips. It was slow, dizzying almost with so many emotions swarming through the both of them, like a line of electricity that kept them tethered together.

"I want you," she whispered against him, eyes daring to flash at him seriously.

Her words washed over him, bittersweet and guilty all at once. It might as well had been a knife dragging over his skin. He leaned up, large hands at the sides of her neck to pull her down into another deep kiss. An animal existed, somewhere deep within, like a predator that would step into the light whenever something delicious would come its way.

She moaned into him, allowing their positions to be reversed with her body trapped beneath his chest and the mattress. Her hands were above her head, where he held them firmly. Her lower half squirmed against the rough material of his jeans. She could feel how hard he was already. Hard and ashamed, wanting her so badly.

"Jared, please…"

He blinked, staring down at her as though she weren't there at all. There was emptiness.

'Please…please…'

The actor moved himself away from her before she could touch him again. He tossed the sheet over her body in an attempt to cover her up. Despite being haunted by the memories, he was still rather aroused, and didn't know if he would be able to control himself again. There were things that needed to be sorted…

She tucked the sheets beneath her arms, "Jared."

"Mr. Leto," He corrected her, voice growing colder the more he thought of his actions. Jared grabbed his shirt from the floor and finished getting dressed. "I need time to figure this out. I don't regret telling everyone about us. That's not what this is…" He gestured over himself. He was sure that he must've looked bat-shit crazy.

"What else is there to think about? You're freaked out because I know more about you, than you do me? Is that it? That's an easy thing to fix."

"Not everything is easy, Laney." Fuck – he'd even used her nickname. What the hell was happening to him? She didn't even appear to have picked up on it and now he was losing his temper. "Unless that person is you, right? I'm sure it's all very easy and convenient for you, but for people like me it's…"

He paused, biting back his thoughts. The more terrifying part was how little she knew about him and how much he realized he knew about her. How could she not remember him, not even a little?

"Okay," she said, quiet and subdued. She didn't want to argue with him. "You have interviews beginning at ten and then a scene to film at four. I'll meet you at the car at nine thirty-five sharp. Until then, I suggest you shower and eat breakfast. It's going to be a long day, Mr. Leto."

She pulled the blankets with her, as she stood up from bed, and headed straight for the bathroom. Once the door was closed, she placed her back against it and locked it. She could hear the door to the hotel room close a few moments later, signaling that Jared had left. That was when the tears came, angry and hot against her cold cheeks.

What the fuck…

TBC