It became a cycle of similar days. You'd be driven to meet her in the dressing rooms or backstage at whatever studio asked her to be interviewed for the promo of her new movie and you took some interesting behind the scenes photos, but you mostly looked forward to the nights following those days. You'd both agree to grab food and bring it back to the hotels in whichever city you had arrived in that morning for her interview. Then you'd both stay up late talking and laughing around whatever food that best reflected the country that you could find late. It was nearly impossible to go out without her being followed by her bodyguards or being mobbed by fans since word got out she was making the press rounds and it wasn't hard to find where she'd be next.
But you didn't care.
You nearly forgot she was famous most nights because you got to see the other, lonelier side to this line of work for her and she seemed to let her guard down when the cameras were off.
"But if you had to pick," You wiggled your eyebrows with a shit eating grin and she bit into a dessert pastry, "Besides Evans, who's your favorite to work with in the Marvel group?"
"That's hard!" She complained around a laugh, swaying a little where she sat criss cross facing you on the bed, and then she bit her lip, glancing away as she thought it over, but you couldn't help following the action with your eyes, "I'd have to say – hey, you're staring!"
"What? Oh, it's just revenge." You shrugged, snatching a smaller cookie off the plate in between as she playfully glared, and you avoided her eyes.
"Revenge for what?"
"Oh, please! I might make faces at you behind the camera sometimes, but you've been staring at me more and more lately – people are gonna start to notice!" You laughed, shaking your head, and missing how she blushed.
"Let them notice," She shrugged nonchalantly after a moment and you furrowed your eyebrows with a curious smile as you watched her, "Most of those questions are boring or repetitive anyway, so if I'd rather be looking at a beautiful woman, then so be it. Doesn't matter."
"Being called beautiful by Scarlett Johansson," You whistled lowly, fanning yourself, and she chuckled, "That has gotta be the highest compliment."
"Oh, shut up," She groaned, still smiling, and pushed your arm with her hand, but then left it there as she continued, "You know you're beautiful, don't even try to pretend."
There was a pause between you both and the air just seemed to shift into some dangerous territory. She had cocked an eyebrow at her statement, challengingly, and while you had to bite your tongue from saying something that was probably an inappropriate comeback, the silence in return seemed to only thicken the tension between you both.
"You're avoiding the question." You smirked, remembering.
It was nearly a whisper, her deeper voice sending chills down your back, "I think we're well beyond that question."
"Are we?" You mused, trying to match the intensity with the question and she smiled at that.
"So, we've been doing this for two weeks now," She started after a long moment of you both just getting lost in your own thoughts as you looked to each other, wishing the other would make a move and all the while knowing they never should before she dropped her hand, "What do you think so far?"
"You have no bad angles," You deadpanned and then you both started laughing before you huffed, "What? It's true! I have about a thousand proofs to go through and picking only a few dozen for you to keep is going to be hell."
She cleared her throat almost uncomfortably as her cheeks dusted pink, "Carpet's next week," And just like that, your mood deflated, "You'll get plenty of photos as it gets closer too – with all the designer try-ons and makeup samples."
"Super excited to meet your boyfriend as well," You didn't mean for it to come out as sarcastic as it felt, but she seemed surprised at first before there was a ghost of a smirk cross her lips, even as you asked, "Where is he by the way? New York? You don't ever mention him."
"Figured boyfriends were off limits." She shrugged, taking a drink from her soda can, and watching you closely as she tipped it back.
"Why? Because mine was an abusive piece of shit?" You found yourself chuckling, missing her jaw clench, and you were relieved and surprised to feel how good it felt to get it off your chest – to call it what it is, "Nah, like you said, nothing's off limits," You smirked then, "Especially if we're in this for the next two weeks – we should be transparent right? Build the trust?"
"I trust you," She told you immediately and you raised your eyebrows before she continued, "Is your ex in jail? Or...dead?"
"Dead!" You laughed, "I wish," Then you shook your head, "But no, he's back in Chicago, probably whining to my mom that I haven't called him since leaving."
"Does she know?" Her tone was dead serious, and it sounded like she was angry, but you didn't think you were making the conversation too heavy, just honest.
"I think that's the worse part," You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head as you frowned down at your lap, "Because while he hid it from everyone else like some kind of expert, even when I came crying to her for help after the night I got the call to move to New York from Leibovitz' assistant, she...she stuck up for him, saying he was probably stressed and jealous and angry that I was getting all these opportunities."
That was the first time you had said that out loud to anyone and you hadn't meant to – this wasn't what she wanted you here for, this wasn't your job. You were here to take photos and be a nice relaxing time after her long day to just kick back, eat something, and have a laugh. She didn't need more on her plate.
You cleared your throat, quickly wiping at your cheeks with your hands, and you glanced up to apologize for dumping that on her, but your words got stuck in your throat as she got up to lean over for a hug after she had pushed aside the food. You were shocked by the gesture, but quickly wrapped your arms around her and let her tackle you back into the bed with the force of it, smiling into her hair. You tried not to snot on her shoulder as you squeezed her gently, letting your eyes close, and then you exhaled shakily. She smelled like the rose deodorant she had her assistant pick up the other day when she was running out, some lilac that was probably her shampoo, fresh linen, and something that was indescribably her.
She did pull away eventually before she laid down next to you, still holding you close as she brushed your hair from your face delicately, and she kept doing it as she watched the action, thinking, well after it was out of your face.
"Nothing I say can make it better," She decided, and you nodded, knowing what she meant, but then she proved herself wrong when she whispered, "But you didn't deserve that. Nobody does. And you're one of the most caring, thoughtful, and wonderful people I've ever met, so it makes me want to just strangle him for what he did," She bit her lip, stopping herself from saying something else that she didn't want to blurt in the moment, and then she kissed the top of your head as her hand rested in the crook of your neck, her thumb brushing your jaw as her other hand held your waist, "You deserve all the love in the world, but the last thing this world deserves after that is you."
You had so much trouble accepting that as truth, accepting that she meant it, but you'd keep trying to piece it together so one day you did. Because you do. You deserve so much love.
