The Make-Up Artist: Part 2

Chapter Thirty Four: Deliciously Evil

"Taron...", you stammer, although in all honesty you're not all that surprised to see him. "Are you stalking me?" You ask lightheartedly. He looks positively livid though and doesn't even crack a smile.

"No, you already have one of those remember? Or maybe you forgot which would explain why you're here and not back at Richard's", he fumes, staring you down. Oh good, sarcastic Taron. You half expect him to push his way into the apartment but he stays rooted to his spot just outside the door frame and waits for you to respond. You don't even know what to say at this point so you just stare back. When he sees you're not going to reply, he continues in a slightly softer tone. "May I come in?" You nod your head up and down and open the door wide for him to step through. He walks through the door briskly then turns to lock it behind him. Turning to face you with his back toward the door, he places his hands on his hips and appraises you as if he's still waiting for you to explain yourself. "Well? Why are you here?"

"Umm, because I live here?" Might as well match his sarcasm. His left eyebrow raises as he regards you with consideration.

"Why did you leave Richard's flat? And why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because I'm a grown woman and you two are not my dads'', you retort. The over-protective act is starting to wear a little thin, however endearing it might be. He eyes you again, presumably deciding how to handle your supposed insolence. He finally releases his hips and steps around you to sit at the table, in the same chair Ethan occupied just last night. The vision of Ethan sitting there glaring at you while he handled that knife gives your heart slight palpitations, and you have to close your eyes briefly against the imposing memory.

"You are beyond frustrating sometimes, you know?" He asks, looking up at you with soft eyes and your heart melts. Damn those eyes of his. "You get completely freaked out by some silly party, but returning to the place where a psychopath held you hostage not twenty four hours ago is no big deal", he says, sounding exasperated.

"I'm sorry", you offer, sighing and taking a seat across from him at the table.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to do what you need to do to stay safe."

"How did you even know I came home?" You ask, assuming you know the answer but for some reason you want to hear him say it.

"I called Rich to check on you and when he went downstairs he said you were gone. I figured you had most likely come home."

"Taron, you're not always going to be around to babysit me. You're just going to have to get used to that. I understand that you worry, but you are going to have to figure out a way to live with the fact that I am here doing my own thing while you are off doing yours."

"Yes, you've made that perfectly clear that we have our own lives to live and that being together won't work", he says disdainfully and you can see that he is definitely not over what you told him this morning. Did you really expect him to be?

"I never said us being together won't work. I simply said that we should PAUSE our relationship until you're done promoting Rocketman."

"Do you think my career is just going to stall out after Rocketman? There will always be other films, other projects that will separate us, but I thought we could work through all that. I still don't understand what this is really about." His eyes are pained and he looks desperate for some other explanation from you. Having none that you are willing to give at the moment, you quickly change the subject.

"So what are we going to do about our present situation?"

"Well, if you don't want me staked out at your door for the next week, I suggest you either come stay with me at my hotel or go back to Richard's." Unfortunately, you don't really care for either of those options. He must see that you are about to argue again so he follows it up quickly with, "At least until you know what's happening with...HIM." Obviously he can't even bring himself to speak Ethan's name as it looks as though he has to choke down the word. You sigh heavily and look longingly around your little apartment. It may not be much and it may now be the scene of a "crime", but it's still home to you. It's where you feel safe, well, at least you did. Maybe a change of scenery for a few days wouldn't be such a bad idea. And maybe a couple of devastatingly handsome men looking after you wouldn't be the worst thing either.